War Everlasting. Don Pendleton
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KILLER COUNTDOWN
A flight carrying military service personnel goes down in the Bering Sea, and the rescue team vanishes without a trace. Called in to investigate, Mack Bolan goes undercover in an Alaskan fishing city and hones in on a criminal empire fronted by a ruthless union boss. Bolan targets their prime operations one by one, and goes up against their army of criminals.
On a desolate ring of islands, Bolan discovers that an active volcano isn’t the only force about to blow. A Russian mercenary and his group of fanatics are working to destroy America’s network of military bases and kill unsuspecting soldiers. But the Executioner is going to turn up the heat on this frozen hell and obliterate this lethal plot with pure molten payback.
Bolan triggered a burst just as the grenade exploded
A volley of hot lead ripped holes in the gunman’s body, shredding vital organs. The Executioner turned to the sniper, who had taken off in a different direction following the explosion.
The sudden screech of tires demanded Bolan’s attention. Coming up the road at a roaring clip were three squad cars. The soldier scanned the area for the sniper, finally catching sight of the man as he slipped into the brush.
Not that it mattered; it was obvious that the cops were headed right toward Bolan, who took off for his sedan even though he knew the effort was wasted. The three squads ground to a halt, and a half-dozen armed officers emerged, the muzzles of their weapons pointed at Bolan.
The soldier considered his options, then did the only thing he could—he let his weapon fall to the ground and raised his hands.
War Everlasting
Don Pendleton
To plunder, to slaughter, to steal, these things they misname empire; and where they make a wilderness, they call it peace.
—Cornelius Tacitus, 56 AD–117 AD
The empires of some men are built on the wholesale slaughter and exploitation of the innocent. By force and fire, I will prevail over them. I am judgment.
—Mack Bolan
Contents
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EPILOGUE
Bering Sea, 166° N, 58° W
As the Cessna UC-35A out of Anchorage, Alaska, banked in a turn bound for Unalaska Island, something went wrong. Warning alarms erupted in the cockpit. Cabin air pressure plummeted, and oxygen masks dropped. The sudden loss in pressure and gross shift in altitude signaled that the plane had just lost an engine, and yet there didn’t seem to be any less power. The lone flight attendant aboard remained in her seat with belt fastened, ass did all the passengers by the captain’s orders.
In the cockpit, First Officer Donna Wickersham glanced at the pilot and waited for orders while trying not to let the panic show in her eyes.
Sweat beaded Captain Leon Garza’s lip as he pulled on the stick with all his might. “I don’t understand!”
“What is it, sir?” Wickersham asked. “We’re still losing altitude.”
“I’m doing my best over here! No matter how far I pull back we continue to drop!”
Garza cursed. “Get on the stick with me!” he ordered.
As Wickersham moved to comply, Garza reached above his head and flipped the switches that would put the entire aircraft on manual control. He also activated the underwater beacon and the automated distress call. The emergency procedures completed, Garza put his attention back to correcting their course by mechanical means.
“There’s still no response, sir!” Wickersham said through gritted teeth.
“I shut off the autopilot!” he replied, even as he began to watch the numbers fall on the altimeter.
Alarms sounded once more, and a voice-over warned that the plane was rapidly continuing to lose altitude and had now descended below safe parameters. Wickersham called off numbers from the various gauges as her job required, but it sounded a bit futile even in her own ears. Garza undoubtedly knew just as Wickersham did that they were losing the battle, and it seemed as if she was counting down to the inevitable finale.
Finally, Garza cut her off. “Okay, we can’t gain altitude, and we can’t pull out of it. Our next best bet will be to cut our airspeed as much as possible.”
“How?”
“Kill