Читать книгу Cold Fury - Don Pendleton - Страница 7
Оглавление“What’s on the satellite feed?”
“Striker, I’m seeing thermal images of six figures on each side of the airstrip,” Kurtzman told him. “Looks like an ambush.”
The Executioner glanced out the window. Ahead, the airstrip was visible, a series of burning oil pots lining each side. “Roger that.” To Grimaldi, he said: “Jack, it’s no good. This is a trap.”
“Hold on,” Grimaldi told him, then pulled back on the yoke, sending the nose of the plane upward. “Got to get over those damn treetops.” The fuselage began to vibrate as the engines quivered.
Bolan’s eyes shot to the left. Grimaldi’s face was a frozen grimace, covered with a brocade of sweat.
“You need help?”
“Pull back on the yoke until we clear the trees.”
Bolan gripped it, but they were heading for a solid wall of branches. He braced for impact.
