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By Don Pendleton

Lutfi, a grasp terrorist, had commandeered the biggest oil tanker on this planet. The vandal threatened to explode the send and switch the Mediterranean right into a enormous oil slick.

Mack Bolan boarded the tanker as a one-man attack squad. He struck with lightning, savaging every thing in his course until eventually it got here all the way down to simply males: Bolan and Lutfi.

In the black metal bowels of the send, as Bolan tracked his prey, he heard the sound of a grenade-spoon popping off as his foot brushed opposed to it within the darkness. Now the little deathmaker was once activated. Bolan will be lifeless in 4.4 seconds. . .

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He moved, waited, moved, waited, yet his ears nonetheless instructed him not anything. two times extra he walked what he judged to be fifty toes and stopped. This time he may pay attention a clinking sound. A moment later, mild flooded in as a door opened. prior to Bolan might raise the Beretta, a shadow handed in entrance of the door and was once long gone. The Executioner rushed on the white mild, yes that his prey's eyesight will be as stunned as his. The door was once an oval hatch just like these he had obvious at the submarine. He ducked out and regarded, then pulled again in. He had now not noticeable something. The glare, the insufferable brightness after overall black nonetheless blinded him. He attempted it back and his imaginative and prescient had stronger a little bit. He glanced in either instructions alongside a hall. No Lutfi. finally his scholars had adjusted. Bolan held his breath, ears straining. Faint sounds got here from the left. the man used to be going again the way in which that they had come. anything else stuck Bolan's awareness. at the white tile have been drops of vivid purple blood. Wounded . . . Bolan placed a clean journal within the Beretta, a 20-rounder, and driven a 30-round journal within the AK-47, then the bloody path. He hurried alongside the hall and paused on the nook to go searching. a person used to be last a door forward. It used to be the one door within the dead-end corridor. Bolan ran to it, and status with reference to the wall, reached out and attempted the knob. It became however the door didn't open. rounds from his Beretta smashed the lock. Bolan stood to 1 part. 5 seconds later, 3 rounds from within splintered out the door panel, chest excessive, in a neat development. The Executioner faked a groan and stomped one foot as though he had fallen. He waited. not anything occurred. Bolan twisted the deal with, then jammed the door open. It swung huge within and stayed there. At knee point he seemed round the doorjamb. It used to be a few form of keep an eye on room, ten-feet sq., full of glowing panels, gauges, dials and readouts. at the flooring the Executioner observed 3 drops of blood. The final one was once close to the a long way door. At that door, Bolan hesitated. eventually he became the knob and driven demanding. The door swung away, and bounced again. carefully Bolan seemed via a crack among the door and its jamb into one other regulate room. He observed a guy in a white coat mendacity at the ground, a wide pool of blood in a puddle round his head. A bloody footprint pointed towards the top of the room the place a chrome steel ladder led up one flight to a balcony that prolonged to the left and out of sight. A voice stabbed during the distance. ? American! Why do you chase me? you recognize i will blow up this tanker any time I choose.? ? you could, yet you will not, Lutfi. you are not able to devote suicide. along with, you recognize one chopper obtained away with these gas rods. you need to get in your meet so that you could make your atomic bombs.? ? that's precise, American. And think me, we are going to cause them to, and we'll win. You capitalist whore, we are going to beat you within the final battle.? ? do not expect it, Lutfi. Your success has replaced, and you are leaking blood.? ? i am simply getting all started, American.

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