bullet plowed into his skull. It took a while to get over that. But Shawnee didn't say anything. She hunkered next to the Executioner and waved for Rita and Lynn. The two women ran up and knelt next to Bolan and Shawnee. They'd been told to follow behind Bolan and Shawnee, so their path must have brought them to the dead KGB agent Shawnee had killed. Rita looked at the shotgun, then at Shawnee. Lynn, the most reserved of the women, nevertheless touched a comforting hand to Shawnee's shoulder, then withdrew it. Nothing was said among the women, but Bolan could sense a feeling of support, of unity. One he'd experienced many times in Nam and again with his men at Stony Man Farm.
"Rita, you and Lynn stay here and keep those two goons pinned down. If you hit them, fine, but our main priority is getting Dodge Reed free." Bolan checked his watch. "Give Shawnee and me five minutes to get to the van, release Reed and be on our way back to the car. Once the time is up, drop back and head for the car yourself. It'll take them a while to decide whether or not it's safe to follow us."
"Okay," Rita St. Clair said. "But with this baby..." she hefted her Krico Super Sniper "...I should be able to do a little more damage than just pin them down."
Lynn tapped her watch. "Five minutes. Go"
Bolan led Shawnee through the underbrush to the road.
Behind them Lynn and Rita were peppering the hillside with a hard rain. A few shots were being returned from the KGB agents and Shawnee stopped to make sure Lynn and Rita were okay.
"Come on," Bolan ordered. "As long as they stay under cover, they'll be fine."
Shawnee hesitated, but then ran after Bolan as they dashed for the van. Bolan reached it first. He stepped into the vehicle, climbing over the bodies of the guards and ignoring the pleading of the men begging to be set free. Kneeling on the floor, he kept watch out the window while Shawnee checked the two guards. Bolan knew what she'd find, but he also knew she needed to try.
"Dead," she finally said. "Both of them."
Bolan nodded, started searching the bodies for the keys to the handcuffs. The prisoners were yanking and jerking at their cuffs, trying to dislodge the whole seat.
"It's you," Dodge Reed said as Bolan approached him with the key.
"Yeah, kid. You're coming with me."
"What's going on here?"
Bolan gave him a cold stare. "Don't you know?"
Reed shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know what you want."
Bolan paused. What if the kid was telling the truth? Then why was Zavlin trying to kill him? Either Reed was lying, or he knew something that he didn't know was important.
It didn't matter. Reed knew something. Something the KGB was willing to kill him for. Bolan had to know what that was. He jammed one of the keys into the cuff lock and turned. Nothing. He tried another key. And another.
"Hey, Blue," one of the prisoners yelled.
"I know you, man. I seen you in Fulton. C'mon, man. Give us the keys."
"Give us the keys, Blue," another man demanded. Others chorused in their agreement.
Bolan ignored them, trying keys until he finally sprang Reed's lock. The kid seemed dazed, unable to move. He just sat on the floor in a stupor. Bolan grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet.
"Let's go!"
Reed stumbled after him.
As they headed for the front door of the van, uncuffed arms reached out and ensnared both Bolan and Reed. Bolan felt them grabbing at his arms and legs, trying to pull him down so they could get the keys. He used the eight-inch barrel of his .357 to smash fingers and hands, kicking his way free from the groping wall of arms. He pulled Reed after him, stopping to hammer the wrist of one stubborn prisoner who had hold of Reed's hair.
"They'll kill us, man!" one of the convicts whined to Bolan.
"No, they won't," Bolan assured him. "Once we're gone, their interest in you will be gone too. When you guys don't show up at the prison within the next ten minutes, they'll be sending a few squad cars after you. If you were
"Rita, you and Lynn stay here and keep those two goons pinned down. If you hit them, fine, but our main priority is getting Dodge Reed free." Bolan checked his watch. "Give Shawnee and me five minutes to get to the van, release Reed and be on our way back to the car. Once the time is up, drop back and head for the car yourself. It'll take them a while to decide whether or not it's safe to follow us."
"Okay," Rita St. Clair said. "But with this baby..." she hefted her Krico Super Sniper "...I should be able to do a little more damage than just pin them down."
Lynn tapped her watch. "Five minutes. Go"
Bolan led Shawnee through the underbrush to the road.
Behind them Lynn and Rita were peppering the hillside with a hard rain. A few shots were being returned from the KGB agents and Shawnee stopped to make sure Lynn and Rita were okay.
"Come on," Bolan ordered. "As long as they stay under cover, they'll be fine."
Shawnee hesitated, but then ran after Bolan as they dashed for the van. Bolan reached it first. He stepped into the vehicle, climbing over the bodies of the guards and ignoring the pleading of the men begging to be set free. Kneeling on the floor, he kept watch out the window while Shawnee checked the two guards. Bolan knew what she'd find, but he also knew she needed to try.
"Dead," she finally said. "Both of them."
Bolan nodded, started searching the bodies for the keys to the handcuffs. The prisoners were yanking and jerking at their cuffs, trying to dislodge the whole seat.
"It's you," Dodge Reed said as Bolan approached him with the key.
"Yeah, kid. You're coming with me."
"What's going on here?"
Bolan gave him a cold stare. "Don't you know?"
Reed shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know what you want."
Bolan paused. What if the kid was telling the truth? Then why was Zavlin trying to kill him? Either Reed was lying, or he knew something that he didn't know was important.
It didn't matter. Reed knew something. Something the KGB was willing to kill him for. Bolan had to know what that was. He jammed one of the keys into the cuff lock and turned. Nothing. He tried another key. And another.
"Hey, Blue," one of the prisoners yelled.
"I know you, man. I seen you in Fulton. C'mon, man. Give us the keys."
"Give us the keys, Blue," another man demanded. Others chorused in their agreement.
Bolan ignored them, trying keys until he finally sprang Reed's lock. The kid seemed dazed, unable to move. He just sat on the floor in a stupor. Bolan grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet.
"Let's go!"
Reed stumbled after him.
As they headed for the front door of the van, uncuffed arms reached out and ensnared both Bolan and Reed. Bolan felt them grabbing at his arms and legs, trying to pull him down so they could get the keys. He used the eight-inch barrel of his .357 to smash fingers and hands, kicking his way free from the groping wall of arms. He pulled Reed after him, stopping to hammer the wrist of one stubborn prisoner who had hold of Reed's hair.
"They'll kill us, man!" one of the convicts whined to Bolan.
"No, they won't," Bolan assured him. "Once we're gone, their interest in you will be gone too. When you guys don't show up at the prison within the next ten minutes, they'll be sending a few squad cars after you. If you were
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