Stand Down. Don Pendleton

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СКАЧАТЬ leader looked at Bolan as if the older man had just walked up and slapped him. Everado took a step forward, his boots crunching on the gravel. “Is that right?” His cohorts fell in behind him as their leader approached the Executioner.

      Bolan nodded curtly.

      “You aren’t from around here, are you, amigo?” The young man stopped a few feet away from Bolan, his posse fanning out around them.

      Bolan stood casually and confidently, hands at his sides, his eyes on the leader. He knew the others wouldn’t make a move unless Everado did first. They all thought they had the advantage with their numbers. It would take less time to show than tell them just how wrong they were.

      Bolan shook his head slowly.

      “Did you have a good meal in there?”

      “I did, before it got interrupted,” Bolan stated.

      “Hey, no one asked you to stick your nose in, asshole!” This came from the girl, who was slouched against the convertible, apparently annoyed at not being the center of attention anymore.

      Bolan and Everado ignored her. The young man took out a thick roll of bills and peeled off a fifty, tucking it into the soldier’s shirt pocket. “Here’s a little advice. Walk back inside, finish your lunch, order two more, I don’t care. Then come back out, get into your car and keep on driving. That way nothing bad will happen to you.”

      Bolan had to work hard at suppressing his smile. Normally he’d give anyone who got in his face a bit of credit, but this kid was already in way over his head; he just didn’t know it yet. “That wouldn’t be a threat, now, would it?”

      The young man smiled broadly and shook his head. “Not at all, man! But the prairie out here—so desolate. Travelers who are unprepared can lose their bearings pretty quickly.”

      “I’ll keep that in mind.” Bolan looked beyond him to the girl. “She isn’t going with you, by the way.”

      The young man had started to turn back to his car when Bolan spoke. He froze again. “What did you say?”

      “You heard me. She isn’t going anywhere with you.”

      Everado turned back. “And I suppose you think she’s going somewhere with you.”

      “Nope. She’s staying right out here, in public, until one of her parents comes and gets her. I’ll be nearby, just to make sure nothing bad happens.”

      This time the young Mexican got right up into Bolan’s face, so close he could smell the well-dressed punk’s cologne—a pungent, sharp fragrance. “You got a hell of a lot of nerve to come into our town and start givin’ orders. Do you have any idea who I am?”

      Bolan didn’t back down an inch. “I sure do.”

      His confident answer caught the youth by surprise, and Bolan kept going. “You’re a kid from south of the border who got lucky. Your grandparents scratched out a living in Mexico, so your parents wised up and joined Cristobal for a way out. You’ve never known a hard day in your life. You’ve never worked twelve, fourteen, sixteen hour days, only to eat, sleep and get up to do the same thing again, six days a week. You grew up with a spoon—not a silver one, just a regular one—in your mouth, so you’ve never had to do anything hard in your life, ever. You’ve assumed a status that you’ve done nothing to earn, and wear it like you have the right. But anyone who looks at you for more than two seconds sees straight through that. They can see right to your soul, see the aimless, ambitionless kid driving a fancy car and wearing designer clothes, and walking around like he knows what’s going on. What those people really see is a boy who has absolutely no idea of who he is, where he came from, or what he’s doing with his life.”

      Bolan leaned in close to the youth’s ear, speaking so only he could hear his next words. “And deep down, I think you also know that—and it scares the hell out of you.”

      Much like his girlfriend’s face a few minutes ago, Everado’s expression changed from surprise to incredulousness to anger at hearing Bolan’s assessment. “Fuckin’ asshole!” He reached for Bolan’s shirt, while the other young men crowded around them, hands reaching out to snare the interloper, as well. Bolan was a moment away from breaking fingers and moving on from there when the whoop of an approaching police siren made everyone’s heads turn.

      2

      As soon as the rest of the young men heard the siren, they pulled away from Bolan, leaving him none the worse for wear. He noticed Everado’s expression turn dark at seeing the car, and the young man muttered a curse under his breath.

      The approaching sheriff’s cruiser came to a stop in the parking lot, and a Hispanic deputy got out of the car. Bolan eyed the newcomer warily. Even with his mirrored aviator shades on, he resembled the youth close enough to be a relation, which meant the situation could turn bad really fast. The man slung a nightstick into the holder at his side, then took his flat-brimmed hat from the seat beside him and put it on before walking over.

      He nodded at Bolan. “Sir.” Then he turned his attention to Everado and the rest of his boys, all of whom were looking anywhere but at the two men. “Everado, what’s going on here?”

      The young man stared at Bolan for a moment, then looked away to spit on the ground. “Nothing—sir.”

      “Got an anonymous tip of a fight going down in the parking lot at Rollins’s place. Now you boys wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

      The group all muttered negative replies.

      The deputy turned to Bolan. “Sir, was there any sort of altercation here that you’d like to report?”

      Everado spoke up then, “But, Rojas—”

      The deputy turned his mirrored sunglasses on the young man, causing his words to die in his throat. He turned back to Bolan. “Sir, you are?”

      “Matt Cooper.”

      The deputy didn’t write it down, but Bolan was more than willing to bet he’d made a note of it. “Again, did anything go on here that you would care to report?”

      “No, thanks. I just thought I saw a misunderstanding, and had come out to see if there was anything I could do to help.”

      “That what happened, Everado?”

      The young man had turned from hard case to indignant to sullen in the span of a minute. He nodded. “Yeah.”

      “All right, then. Glad to know you boys aren’t causing trouble.” The deputy leaned over to spot the girl against the convertible. “Connie? I’m sure school isn’t over till the end of the month.”

      The girl rolled her eyes and stared off into the distance.

      The deputy’s voice turned steel-hard. “Come over here, girl.”

      She stared at him, then slowly walked over. Everado’s mouth opened as if he was about to say something, but the deputy turned his gaze back on the young man, and he shut it with a snap.

      Connie stood in front of him. “What?”

      The СКАЧАТЬ