Blood Vendetta. Don Pendleton
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Название: Blood Vendetta
Автор: Don Pendleton
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Приключения: прочее
isbn: 9781472084835
isbn:
The Executioner stepped from the shadows of an alley that ran between the Hinton Tower and its closest neighbor, a skyscraper that housed a global bank. A black nylon briefcase hung from his right shoulder. McCarter emerged a heartbeat later, a nearly identical briefcase slung over his shoulder.
Bolan’s ice-blue eyes surveyed the building’s exterior, matched it with the intelligence he’d gained. The thug who had given them this intel worked for a man named Malakov—who just so happened to be a high-ranking associate of Mikhail Yezhov. Malakov, once a tenant in the building, had bought it out of receivership after the bottom fell out of London’s commercial real estate market. That transaction had allowed him to install a tighter security. This included plainclothes, armed guards in the lobby, tougher firewalls on the computers managing the security system and a rooftop helipad to allow for private departures.
“Nice digs,” McCarter muttered.
Bolan nodded.
“You think our boy’s information was good?”
“He was about to bleed out,” Bolan replied. “What do you think?”
“Impending death makes for a hell of a truth serum. Good job bandaging him up, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“Seems a little counterproductive, this whole shooting-people-then-tending-to-their-wounds thing,” McCarter said.
Bolan shrugged. “Made a deal with the guy. Not sure he deserved to live, but I made a deal. I don’t think he’s going to bother anybody for a while. MI5 was going to send in a cleanup team, take him to a hospital. They’ll extradite him.”
“So we can shoot him again, at another time in another place.”
“Gives us something to look forward to,” Bolan said.
“True that.”
By this point, the soldier and McCarter had reached the line of glass doors leading into the tower’s lobby. Despite the hour, the revolving door spun easily, spitting Bolan, then McCarter, into the lobby. A handful of men and women, well-groomed professional people in suits, strode purposefully in a dozen different directions through the lobby. This didn’t surprise Bolan. The Russian had told him that Malakov ran a massive energy-and-stock futures operation on the building’s first two floors. With the staff making trades globally, people populated the building around the clock.
A pair of burly men togged in navy blue sport coats, gray slacks and red ties were seated behind an information desk that stood in the middle of the lobby. The Stony Man warriors approached the desk. The guards, who’d been talking, fell silent and looked at Bolan and McCarter.
“Help you?” the younger man asked.
“Have some documents to drop off,” McCarter said. He patted his briefcase to emphasize the point.
“Documents for who?”
“Apex Trading,” McCarter said. “On the twenty-second floor.”
“I know what floor it’s on,” the man said. “Who at Apex?”
“Ed Haggar.” Kurtzman had grabbed the names with an internet search and fed them to Bolan.
The young man shook his head. “Don’t know him.”
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