Primary Directive. Don Pendleton

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      G ARY M ANNING WHIPPED the Jeepney around a sharp curve in the road with such force that he almost tossed both his passengers out the side. Herndon kept his silence through most of the trip, but Nativida had squealed like a stuck pig through the entire trip to the heliport, and now he was really starting to grind on Manning’s nerves. Thankfully, the big Canadian would soon be out of the Jeepney and airborne with one of the finest pilots in the world at the stick.

      Manning shouted for the men to brace themselves as he jammed on the brake pedal and brought the vehicle to a skidding halt. He bounded from the vehicle and raced around the tail. Jack Grimaldi, ace pilot for Stony Man and longtime friend of Mack Bolan, sat on the main cabin deck of the Sikorsky H-19, cigar in his mouth and some kind of electronic flight book in his hands.

      He looked up in surprise at Manning’s stormy arrival. Around a mouthful of the stogie he said, “What’s up, Gar’?”

      “Get her spinning, Jack,” Manning said. “We’ve got trouble.”

      Grimaldi didn’t bother to inquire further. If Manning or any other member of the team passed on bantering, the pilot knew they were hot, and it wasn’t time to play twenty questions. He spun into the chopper from his perch and climbed into the elevated flight deck. Manning entered the main cabin after him and reached for one of the large cases stored in the cargo area. He flipped open the lid and removed the three major pieces of the M-60 E-4—stock, forward receiver, short-heavy barrel—he would need to assemble the weapon.

      Nativida finally managed to climb down from the Jeepney and stagger over to Manning, leaving Herndon seated in back talking animatedly into his cell phone with someone. “Mr. Brown, this is not good. You cannot simply flit around our airspace and shoot up our buildings.”

      “Beg your pardon, Mr. Secretary,” Manning countered without taking his attention from his task, “but that’s exactly what we can do. Your police force got you into this situation, and now you’re going to need to let us get you out.”

      “Not at the risk of innocent lives!”

      Manning stopped and pinned Nativida with a hard stare. “There are already innocent lives at risk here. You have support staff in that building, not to mention the officer left guarding the prisoner. Now maybe the other prisoners you have in there aren’t angels, but I’m sure none of them have done anything to deserve to die. In all likelihood we’re dealing with al Qaeda terrorists. We can’t afford a standoff and my country’s government, just like yours, does not negotiate with terrorists.”

      “I’m afraid in this case you’re going to have to,” Herndon said as he walked up and stood next to Nativida. “I just got off the phone with the deputy director. He’s advised me we are not to get involved until the proper channels have had time to consult with the Panamanian government about this.”

      “I don’t work for you or the deputy director,” Manning replied flatly. As the rotor engines began to wind up, he added, “Now step off the pad. I wouldn’t want you to get your head chopped off.”

      “I don’t think you understand, pal,” Herndon said, taking a step closer to Manning. “You are not auth—”

      Manning drew his Colt Model 1911A1 in a single, easy motion and leveled it in Herndon’s face. “I think you don’t understand. If you’re not part of the solution, then you’re part of the problem. Now…step back.”

      The two men complied and Manning holstered his pistol once they’d moved to a safe distance. He looked up to the cockpit and saw Grimaldi smile and shake his head. Manning shrugged and then gave the pilot a thumbs-up that said he was clear to go. The vibrations increased, the thrum and whine of the chopper’s turbine power plant increasing until they had reached sufficient air resistance to take off, and then Manning watched the ground move away from his feet. The big Canadian completed his assembly of the M-60 E-4 and then mounted it. Next, he donned a headset and gave Grimaldi the approximate direction of the police station as he hooked up the winch he’d use to lower their equipment to his teammates.

      “They’re probably spread out,” he told Grimaldi, “so we might have to hover in different locations.”

      “You know the position of the emplacements inside?” Grimaldi asked.

      “Sounded like three separate guns going when we first arrived, all of them at the front. I’d recommend you make a couple passes, though, so we can get an approximate idea of where our people are positioned.”

      Grimaldi waved to indicate he got the picture, and Manning went about the СКАЧАТЬ