Читать книгу Road Of Bones - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

So much for stealth

He’d only got halfway to the lights when the man addressed him from a pool of shadows to his left, between a thresher and a skid loader. The lookout spoke in Russian, but his challenge had the tone of “Who in hell are you?”

Bolan let his AK answer back, one Russian to another. Three rounds at a range of six or seven feet, two punching through a plastic cooler the stranger carried, loosing plumes of smoke. His muzzle-flashes lit a startled face before it toppled over backward, out of frame.

He dodged between a swather and a mower, reached a different aisle and pounded toward the bright oasis where the action was. Bolan could hear people scrambling, as a voice called out, “Mikhail? Mikhail!”

Presumably calling the dead guy.

Bolan let the others wonder about the body as he moved in for the kill.