Crucial Intercept. Don Pendleton
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Название: Crucial Intercept
Автор: Don Pendleton
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Gold Eagle Executioner
isbn: 9781472084880
isbn:
Bolan shoved the slip of paper deep into his pocket. He picked up the Uzi and, holding the weapon low against his leg, moved in on the motel. Once he was in the shadow of the building itself, he took out his phone and texted a message to the Farm’s quick-contact number, which would display on a readout in the Computer Room, asking for room number intel.
Almost immediately, the responding text message came back, probably typed by Price herself: “Bear says man matching Baldero’s description checked in room 112. Grnd floor, East.”
That would mean the Farm, or someone on the advance team reporting to the Farm, had checked with the front desk. Whether overtly using government authority, or covertly using some ruse, the Farm had determined that a man who looked like Baldero had checked into room 112, which Price was informing him was located on the ground floor of the east wing of the double-winged building.
He made his way there, watching the doors and room numbers tick past in descending order as he went by. He was doing his best to ignore the gun held against his thigh. It was an old trick of role camouflage; if the gun wasn’t anything he noticed, a bystander might not notice it either. While there were always exceptions, Bolan knew from experience that most people simply didn’t look at the individuals around them. The majority of people walked through life in what one late, famous self-defense expert had called “condition white,” a state of blissful unawareness of their surroundings. Bolan was counting on that. It wouldn’t do for some particularly aware citizen to notice his weapon and call the police, perhaps tipping off Baldero that he had been located.
He found room 112 and pressed himself against the wall next to the door. Reaching out with one hand, he rapped on the door quietly, using the back of his left fist.
“Yeah?” came a voice from inside.
“Housekeeping,” Bolan said. “You want fresh towels?”
There was no reply from inside. Bolan could hear the occupant, presumably Baldero, shuffling around within. If it wasn’t his man, no harm would be done. If it was, however, he needed to take control of the situation right now. If he could get Baldero to open the door without causing a scene, he could quietly remove the man from the premises and take him into custody. Getting Baldero under wraps was the first step in stopping the shootings that were causing so much trouble, and in unraveling the mystery regarding why the shootings were happening.
“Sir?” Bolan asked again. “If you’ll just open the door—”
Just then a shotgun slug tore a hole the size of a quarter through the heavy motel door.
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