Death Gamble. Don Pendleton

      Bolan’s peripheral gaze caught another of his original pursuers bearing down on the Jeep. Before he could react, Rytova unloaded a 3-shot burst from the Beretta. The Parabellum rounds pounded into the man’s chest, and his dead fingers simultaneously released the SMG and the handlebars. The rider fell backward from his two-wheeler while momentum carried the bike onward until it collided with a wall.

      The soldier took down two more bikers with the MP-5 before it locked dry. In the same instant, Rytova’s weapon ran empty. Bolan extracted two more 20-round magazines for the Beretta and tossed them to Rytova. He reloaded his own weapon. Just as he prepared to resume fire, the remaining attackers turned nearly in unison and fled.

      Bolan and Rytova shared confused looks.

      “They ran?” Rytova asked.

      A sinking feeling told Bolan otherwise.

      “More like a strategic retreat,” he said. “That can only mean something bad for us.”

      The beating of helicopter blades in the distance told the Executioner he was right.