she was almost supernaturally cool during the most threatening crisis. But he knew, too, how that pale face would soon burn with blood lust when they were within range of their target. That was the only time she showed genuine passion.
"What's the American doing shouting orders at our men?" he rasped at her as she approached the porch.
"I told him to run the men through a few special drills. Don't worry, he knows what he's doing. We should take advantage of his knowledge."
"You haven't forgotten our decision to kill him after this is over, have you?" he whispered.
"On the contrary," she smiled. "I want you did your best work on him. Exceed yourself. I want what you did to those two agents to look like kindness. There should not be one square inch of his body left unexplored that might cause him excruciating pain. And not just pain, I want you to humiliate him however you can, physically, psychologically. Get Rudi to help you, I'm sure he'd appreciate the opportunity. And then when our Sergeant Grendal reaches that limbo beyond pain, I want you to chop his body into bits except for the head. That we want them to recognize. After they receive his remains the authorities will think twice about how they are to deal with us."
Thomas studied his sister's face with puzzlement.
In the past she had not minded his torturing and brutalizing certain people, but she had never encouraged him either. Now she was insisting on it. He could tell by the hard edges around her mouth that she meant it, too.
Whatever the American had done to earn her wrath, he would certainly be sorry by tonight. This would be Thomas's greatest achievement, perhaps making it last for days before death would end his pleasure... and the sergeant's life.
"What happened to Hermann's hand?" he said, nodding at the bandage.
"An accident."
Rudi came around the corner of one of the buildings and Thomas was startled at the man's appearance.
Dark purple bruises circled his eyes and spread across his cheeks. His nose was bandaged with white adhesive tape, but it still looked as if it had been flattened with a sledgehammer.
"My God," Thomas gasped. "What happened to Rudi, his face?"
"An argument with the American. No one's fault."
"No one's fault first Hermann has an 'accident, then Rudi is injured. We should kill this American right now, not take any chances of taking him along."
"There's no rush," she said quietly. "He's a man who will do anything for money. He won't harm our mission. If we had more like him we could pull this whole thing off with half the men."
"I don't like it." Thomas shook his head. "He's dangerous."
Tanya smiled. "So are we, brother. So are we."
Bolan grabbed one of the hardguys roughly by the shoulder and pitched him forward into the snow. "Pick up your feet! All of you. You'll never make it through this kind of snow if you use your legs like plows. You'll poop out after half a mile."
The terrorists grumbled but under the watchful eyes of Tanya and Thomas Morganslicht, dutifully picked up their feet and trudged forward. Bolan continued shouting automatic orders at them while he studied the situation around him. Tanya had "suggested" he warm the troops up with some special drills, so he'd been making it look legitimate and military. It had been a clever move on her part. This way he was out in the middle of the campground, unarmed, his voice could be heard anywhere in the camp, and he was surrounded by armed killers. It was tighter security than locking him up.
Without looking directly at them, he was aware of Thomas and Tanya conversing on the porch of their cabin. He did not need to overhear their conversation to know exactly what they were saying. They were a little shorthanded after last night's raid, so they would take advantage of having this trained soldier. They had already offered him money, and since that was what they thought he wanted most in the world, there would be no suspicion of betrayal. Nevertheless, they had
"What's the American doing shouting orders at our men?" he rasped at her as she approached the porch.
"I told him to run the men through a few special drills. Don't worry, he knows what he's doing. We should take advantage of his knowledge."
"You haven't forgotten our decision to kill him after this is over, have you?" he whispered.
"On the contrary," she smiled. "I want you did your best work on him. Exceed yourself. I want what you did to those two agents to look like kindness. There should not be one square inch of his body left unexplored that might cause him excruciating pain. And not just pain, I want you to humiliate him however you can, physically, psychologically. Get Rudi to help you, I'm sure he'd appreciate the opportunity. And then when our Sergeant Grendal reaches that limbo beyond pain, I want you to chop his body into bits except for the head. That we want them to recognize. After they receive his remains the authorities will think twice about how they are to deal with us."
Thomas studied his sister's face with puzzlement.
In the past she had not minded his torturing and brutalizing certain people, but she had never encouraged him either. Now she was insisting on it. He could tell by the hard edges around her mouth that she meant it, too.
Whatever the American had done to earn her wrath, he would certainly be sorry by tonight. This would be Thomas's greatest achievement, perhaps making it last for days before death would end his pleasure... and the sergeant's life.
"What happened to Hermann's hand?" he said, nodding at the bandage.
"An accident."
Rudi came around the corner of one of the buildings and Thomas was startled at the man's appearance.
Dark purple bruises circled his eyes and spread across his cheeks. His nose was bandaged with white adhesive tape, but it still looked as if it had been flattened with a sledgehammer.
"My God," Thomas gasped. "What happened to Rudi, his face?"
"An argument with the American. No one's fault."
"No one's fault first Hermann has an 'accident, then Rudi is injured. We should kill this American right now, not take any chances of taking him along."
"There's no rush," she said quietly. "He's a man who will do anything for money. He won't harm our mission. If we had more like him we could pull this whole thing off with half the men."
"I don't like it." Thomas shook his head. "He's dangerous."
Tanya smiled. "So are we, brother. So are we."
Bolan grabbed one of the hardguys roughly by the shoulder and pitched him forward into the snow. "Pick up your feet! All of you. You'll never make it through this kind of snow if you use your legs like plows. You'll poop out after half a mile."
The terrorists grumbled but under the watchful eyes of Tanya and Thomas Morganslicht, dutifully picked up their feet and trudged forward. Bolan continued shouting automatic orders at them while he studied the situation around him. Tanya had "suggested" he warm the troops up with some special drills, so he'd been making it look legitimate and military. It had been a clever move on her part. This way he was out in the middle of the campground, unarmed, his voice could be heard anywhere in the camp, and he was surrounded by armed killers. It was tighter security than locking him up.
Without looking directly at them, he was aware of Thomas and Tanya conversing on the porch of their cabin. He did not need to overhear their conversation to know exactly what they were saying. They were a little shorthanded after last night's raid, so they would take advantage of having this trained soldier. They had already offered him money, and since that was what they thought he wanted most in the world, there would be no suspicion of betrayal. Nevertheless, they had
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