Читать книгу Uncut Terror - Don Pendleton - Страница 3
Оглавление“Our only chance is to get up this ladder to the street. Think you can make it?”
Framer shook his head. “Leave me here. I’m too weak.”
The man’s face was grayish. He needed medical attention soon, very soon. Bolan motioned for Grimaldi to go up first. Without another word he began scaling the iron rungs. Seconds later Grimaldi called down, “Clear up here so far.”
Holstering the Beretta, the Executioner turned back to Framer. “Listen,” Bolan said. “I’m going to climb up the ladder. You hold on to me with all you’ve got. Ready?”
Framer grunted a yes.
Bolan waited for the man to secure his grip, then began climbing. The extra weight made every movement difficult, but the soldier continued the rigorous assent. When they were halfway up, Bolan tried to count the number of rungs to the top. Perhaps fifteen more.
Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen—
The iron rung under his left hand popped loose from its cement socket.
Framer screamed.
Bolan managed to tighten his grip on the other rung he was still holding, avoiding the deadly plunge. Thirteen had always been his lucky number.
