Читать книгу Blood Vendetta - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

The corpse of the gun-wielding rider was flung from the motorcycle

Bolan thrust himself to the side, rolled when he hit the ground and came up on one knee, his ice-blue eyes sweeping the terrain for more threats. A short volley from his M4 took down two more gunmen.

As he stood, Bolan loaded an HE round into the grenade launcher. He set his sights on a single-story building. An undulating glow of flames was visible inside the structure through the windows. A pair of bay doors that made up half of the building’s facade were buckling from the onslaught of the flames.

The handful of guards, who had been trying to hose down the structure, abandoned their work when they saw Bolan and began grabbing for their weapons.

He noticed another man climbing frantically into the cab of a tanker truck and, judging by his urgency, Bolan guessed the truck wasn’t filled with corn syrup.

The Executioner leveled the launcher and fired.