Читать книгу Patriot Acts - Don Pendleton - Страница 2

A camouflage tent erupted, the nylon a flaming blossom that disgorged smoke. Bolan slipped on a pair of goggles to protect his vision, pulling a scarf up over his nose and mouth to filter out the choking cloud created by his incendiary round.

With an inferno suddenly ablaze in their midst, the militia gunmen were distracted. Billowing clouds spread through the gap created by Spelling earlier, pouring out over the pair.

“Move in,” Bolan ordered.

Spelling and Bolan charged into the churning cloud, slipping among the militia members. They had finally breached the compound, but the militia was on one side and the commandos were at their back.

The Executioner didn’t mind. He’d engineered the crossfire between the two groups. The chaos and confusion were his protective cloak, enabling him to continue his mission of cleansing fire.