Damage Radius. Don Pendleton

why I want it back.”

      “Where’d that come from?” the short man asked, looking cross-eyed down at the barrel.

      “I brought it in with me,” Bolan said as he cocked the tiny firearm. “You missed it. Now give me the knife.”

      Slowly, the man with the gun in his face reached into his own jacket and pulled out the Cold Steel folding knife.

      Bolan clipped the weapon to his belt over his right hip, then pocketed the Pug again.

      He waited while the chauffeur opened the limo door for him, then slid into the backseat of the vehicle.