Читать книгу Ninja Assault - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

Bolan sprinted across the roof, heading for the fire escape.

A pistol cracked, and he heard the whisper of a bullet as it streaked past his cheek. One shooter was behind him when he turned, and Bolan saw another peeking from the rooftop access doorway. He sent the shooter spinning away with a 3-round burst, his white shirt spouting scarlet, then sent three more rounds to make the doorway peeper duck back out of sight.

With ammunition running low, he glanced over the parapet, saw no shooters prepared to pick him off as he descended and swung out onto the fire escape. Gripping the side rails with his hands and bracing the insteps of his shoes against them, Bolan slid down until he landed in a crouch fifty feet below.

Gunshots echoed above him, a reminder that he had no time to waste. Raising the MP5K’s muzzle, Bolan fired a burst and saw a face fly back.

His rented wheels waited for him half a block away.

Bolan ran.