Читать книгу Cold Snap - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

BROGNOLA HEARD THE DISTANT CRACK OF HIGH EXPLOSIVES

He touched the earpiece. “Barbara, what was that?”

“Grenade and small arms fire,” Price answered. “The protesters who started for the security entrance have been hit. Secret Service is on the lookout for grenade launchers and assault rifles.”

“Any idea who opened fire?” Brognola asked. He jogged to a nearby window overlooking the scene. Wisps of black smoke curled into the sky, a grisly grave marker for the brutal violence.

A police car racing to the scene suddenly erupted, bursting apart under the force of a shoulder-mounted missile. Flames blew out the glass on all sides.

Secret Service guards at the gate took cover as automatic fire sizzled at the guardhouse. Even bullet-resistant glass and built-in steel plating did little to alleviate the incoming torrent of bullets.

Brognola grimaced as the sudden flurry of violence abated.

This was not going to be the last shot fired in this war.

Not if Stony Man Farm had anything to say about it.