MacK Bolan: Bloodsport
farmhouse window. The increased volume of shouting in the farmhouse indicated the terminal nervousness in there. Bolan led the next charge, gaining ten more yards but bloodily losing another man. Tanya led her own group through the hell of bullets, and she also losl a man, with another wounded in the groin. The last run cost them two more soldiers, but now they were pressed against the solid farmhouse walls. They were safe here, as long as they kept away from the windows.
    And then the Black Sunday hardguys burst through the front and back doors simultaneously, spilling six or seven troops from each exit into the smoke-filled night. They were all armed with new Uzi machine guns, and they knew how to use them. But they were at the disadvantage of having to come out into the open to fire them, and the Horde was waiting with guns trained on each door. There was a fearful echo of explosions, the Horde opened fire on the rival terrorists, literally shredding their targets.
    According to Tanya, Thomas and Rudi were on the other side of the building which was just as well, because Bolan did not want to have Rudi and his shotgun behind him during this next phase.
    "Und jefts?" Thomas Morganslicht yelled out from the other side of the house.
    "Any suggestions?" panted the woman terrorist leader.
    "Sure, but it'll cost you." answered Mack Bolan.
    "How much?"
    "Two men at least. And that's for sure dead, not maybe."
    "Acceptable," she said without hesitation.
    "Okay. We blast the doors, send a man through each, one at the front and one at the back. Once both doors are open, we chew up the survivors in a cross fire as long as we're aware of where our own people are. Naturally the first men through each door are dog meat."
    "Dog meat?"
    "Dead."
    "Naturally," Tanya Morganslicht said.
    She waved three of her nearest men over to her, then whispered instructions and they hurried off to pass the instructions on. "Erich," she called to one of the younger men, the one who had gotten the American cigarette from Bolan. "You will have the honor of leading us through the door." Erich tried to smile to acknowledge the honor. But it was a sick smile, full of the knowledge of death.
    "Don't worry, Erich," she said in a soothing voice, "we will cover you." He tried to speak but only choked on the words. Instead he just nodded.
    Then, suddenly, he was running across the porch toward the front door, his Uzi blasting away at the lock.
    Bolan could hear the same commotion coming from the other side of the building as another kamikaze "volunteer" charged the back door. Bolan gripped the H and K tightly in his fists, and hunched into a ready position.
    Erich's concentrated fire on the lock caused the door to swing open, but that was all that Erich would get to see of the inside. A flurry of automatic fire punched through the space and continued on into Erich's face, spraying blood and wet clots of brain and chips of skull over his waiting comrades.
    "Go!" Tanya screamed, and her followers opened fire on the doorway until everything that surrounded it was nothing more than a mass of splinters and sawdust. There were screams of pain from inside and the sound of footsteps clambering up wooden stairs.
    "Go!" she hollered again and her three remaining troops piled through the front door, their Uzis chattering diatribes of death. When the last of her men had made it through the door, Tanya followed with her own captured Uzi blazing from chest level.
    Bolan was happy to let the kills continue.
    He heard a second-story window being opened.
    He ducked into the recess of the front door, his back pressed against the wall so that those above could not see him.
    It wasn't much more than a fifteen-foot drop, and the first two made it with no problem. Someone from above tossed their Uzis to them, then they waved for the third person to follow. She did. But when she hit the ground, Bolan could hear her ankle snap with a crack. She muffled her scream so as not to warn the

Similar Books

The Winning Stroke

Matt Christopher

The Opposite of Wild

Kylie Gilmore

Last Light

Andy McNab

Fencer

Viola Grace

Hadrian's wall

William Dietrich

How We Do Harm

Otis Webb Brawley

Out of the Blues

Mercy Celeste

Daddy

Danielle Steel