Читать книгу Deadly Command - Don Pendleton - Страница 2

They were debating something that was also holding them back from approaching the office. The Executioner figured they had found the dead guy downstairs.

To Bolan’s right was the door that led to the parking garage—it was the only way open to his escape.

Aware the three men might push caution behind them and head for the office, Bolan acted. He eased the door wide enough to let him through, raised the Beretta and powered into the corridor. He fired off two 3-round bursts in the general direction of the group and heard the startled shouts. Return shots, fired in haste, gouged the wall, sending plaster dust across the corridor. Bolan kept moving, committed to his action. He reached the door and shouldered it open. A final shot from his pursuers thudded into the door frame inches from Bolan’s head. He slammed the door shut, knowing his freedom would be extremely short lived.

The thunder of boots approaching the door and the voices shouting back and forth warned him his time was running out fast. They had his scent. The hounds had taken up the chase and Bolan was the prize. The only thing they should have taken notice of was this prize had the choice of fighting back.