Читать книгу Battle Cry - Don Pendleton - Страница 3

A shotgun blast shattered the banister

The Executioner ducked out of sight as more bullets peppered the walls and ceiling overhead.

Barging through the first door on his right, he found himself inside what looked like a guest room. Directly opposite the doorway where he stood, a sliding door opened onto a narrow balcony that faced the yard and street beyond. It was a drop of twenty feet, and then a run of twenty yards across the lawn. He would be wide open to the shooters in the house—and any who were quick enough to follow him.

One step at a time.

Bolan kicked the bedroom door shut, locked it and crossed to the window. He opened it and waited for the angry voices to resume from the hallway. If they went straight, he had a chance to make the drop unnoticed. But if they searched room by room…

The doorknob jiggled, and Bolan stitched a double 3-round burst across the paneling, and was rewarded with a squeal of pain. A second later, he was on the balcony, one leg across the rail.

As small-arms fire ripped through the room’s door and eastern wall, Bolan took his leap of faith.