Final Coup. Don Pendleton
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he had two extra magazines under his right arm opposite the pistol in his shoulder holster.
It might be enough. Or it might not. In any case, he would be sure to pick up the weapons of his enemies as he went.
Looking quickly across the room, he saw Lareby checking his own weapon. “How are you fixed?” Bolan asked.
“Full gun, one extra mag,” the CIA man said.
Bolan knew the small double action .380 held eight rounds, with one in the chamber. The other magazine would give Lareby an additional seven. “Better make them count then,” he said.
The CIA counterterrorist expert nodded.
The soldier took another glance outside and saw that darkness was replacing the twilight he had seen a few moments earlier. Antangana had held the closed Okapi folding knife in his fist ever since Bolan tossed it back to him, but now he watched the man drop it back into the same pocket where it had been found during the search.
“Let’s go,” Antangana said simply, then led the men out the door, into the elevator and out of the hotel into the night.
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