Читать книгу Blood Toll - Don Pendleton - Страница 2

“Uh-uh.” The Hawaiian shook his head. “You want the knife, you have to take it.” Then the giant whipped the kukri underhanded right at the Executioner’s face.

Bolan ducked. The kukri slammed into the wall behind him, handle-first, leaving a dent in the drywall. The Hawaiian was already on the run again, slamming into the fire door fronting the stairwell. Bolan grabbed the kukri and dropped it into his canvas messenger bag, hurrying after the escaping native.

When he rammed open the stairwell door, the first barrage of gunfire rang out. Bolan ducked back as heavy slugs ricocheted in the metal-and-concrete stairwell. The Hawaiian continued to fire blindly up the stairwell.

Bolan pulled out his secure phone and speed-dialed Stony Man Farm. “Barb,” he said quickly, “get in touch with our liaison. Tell her to keep her eyes open for a big Hawaiian, over three hundred pounds. He’s armed and dangerous and we need to stop him before he kills someone.”