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Final Assault. Don Pendleton
Читать онлайн.Название Final Assault
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474046565
Автор произведения Don Pendleton
Жанр Морские приключения
Серия Gold Eagle Executioner
Издательство HarperCollins
Dead in the Water
Not all publicity is good publicity. Especially when the fake hijacking of the world’s first self-sustaining vessel turns into the real deal. With the ship and its cargo being auctioned off to terrorists, Mack Bolan must rescue the hostages and destroy the vessel before it falls into even more dangerous hands.
Joining Somali pirates on a raid gets Bolan on board, but getting off alive won’t be so easy. Mercenaries and criminal foot soldiers have taken over, transforming the vessel into a minefield. Bolan will need to act quickly to take control, and with the extraction window closing, the Executioner is ready to turn this ship into the Titanic.
“We need a new plan.”
“The plan is fine,” Spence snapped. “It was fine—until you had to start making changes. I shouldn’t even be here! I’m not a goddamn field agent!”
Bolan didn’t waste his breath arguing. The sun was starting to rise. Once they lost the dark, they’d lose the only real protection they had. The militants would realize they were facing only two men, and they’d swarm. Bolan and Spence had to take the fight to the enemy.
Bolan popped a smoke canister out of his harness and pulled the pin. He lobbed the grenade over the wall and immediately grabbed another. “Get ready to move,” he said as he sent the second spinning along the narrow street. Colored smoke started spitting into the night air.
“Move where?” Spence demanded.
“Where do you think?” Bolan asked, pointing toward the building where the bulk of the incoming fire was emanating from. “You said we needed to bring a gift, right? Well, how about we give your friends the best gift of all—dead enemies.”
Final Assault
Don Pendleton
Justice is a temporary thing that must at last come to an end; but the conscience is eternal and will never die.
—Martin Luther
Justice may be temporary, but my war against injustice is everlasting.
—Mack Bolan
Nothing less than a war could have fashioned the destiny of the man called Mack Bolan. Bolan earned the Executioner title in the jungle hell of Vietnam.
But this soldier also wore another name—Sergeant Mercy. He was so tagged because of the compassion he showed to wounded comrades-in-arms and Vietnamese civilians.
Mack Bolan’s second tour of duty ended prematurely when he was given emergency leave to return home and bury his family, victims of the Mob. Then he declared a one-man war against the Mafia.
He confronted the Families head-on from coast to coast, and soon a hope of victory began to appear. But Bolan had broken society’s every rule. That same society started gunning for this elusive warrior—to no avail.
So Bolan was offered amnesty to work within the system against terrorism. This time, as an employee of Uncle Sam, Bolan became Colonel John Phoenix. With a command center at Stony Man Farm in Virginia, he and his new allies—Able Team and Phoenix Force—waged relentless war on a new adversary: the KGB.
But when his one true love, April Rose, died at the hands of the Soviet terror machine, Bolan severed all ties with Establishment authority.
Now, after a lengthy lone-wolf struggle and much soul-searching, the Executioner has agreed to enter an “arm’s-length” alliance with his government once more, reserving the right to pursue personal missions in his Everlasting War.
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The Gulf of Aden
The inflatable rafts glided across the dark water toward the looming bulk of their target. Garrand crouched in the lead raft, eyes on the prize, finger on the trigger. He expected no complications—the plan was solid—but it was best to prepare for trouble.
Georges Garrand always had a plan. It was his compulsion and his pride, and it had seen him through his term of service in the French Foreign Legion in addition to other, less praiseworthy organizations. Be prepared for enemy action and the screwups of your friends, and seize opportunity wherever and whenever you find it.
That motto was the reason Garrand was out here now, riding one of three military surplus boats with twenty of the hardest bastards in his Rolodex, armed to the teeth and high on coffee and ephedrine tablets. That was why he was going to take the Demeter.
The world’s first self-sustaining vessel, the Demeter was a super-yacht. The cargo holds had been converted into, among other things, two decks of passenger cabins, a five-star galley and hydroponic farms. An artificial cove had been built into the forward area of the hull, at the waterline, for fishing.