Path To War
Stomping GroundsWar for sole ownership of blood-soaked Angola has begun, but now the ruthless shadow hand is a cabal of former CIA-DOD top operatives calling themselves Phoenix Consortium. Backed by millions in stolen black funds, the goal is a new world order, gained by control of the world's oil and diamond monopolies. It's a despotic vision that requires partnerships in the right places: the North Koreans willing to trade suitcase nukes for a piece of the new world order; Arab fanatics willing to buy into any kind of war that guarantees spilled American blood; and an army of former special ops mercs with no loyalties. It's an agenda of human savagery at its worst, unleashed by traitors to the country they pledged to serve. And it deserves nothing less than justice at the hands of Mack Bolan.
Читать Path To War онлайн беплатно
Bolan fired two rounds toward the terroristâs head
âYouâre insane!â Kairoush shouted.
âIâve never been more stone-cold. The next ones are for real,â the Executioner vowed. âI want to know about the North Koreans. I want to know where the backpack nuke is, or how I can get to it. Or I shoot to kill.â
âI will talk!â
And he did, spinning a tale so sordid its magnitude was difficult to absorb. Bolan was turning toward Dawkins when autofire rang out, the soldier flinching as he glimpsed a ragged line of holes dancing across the terroristâs chest.
Black-clad, armored storm troops surged into the warehouse.
âFreeze! Lose the guns!â
Bolan found himself staring at Commander Tachjine, the muzzle of the Moroccanâs machine gun pointed at his chest.
Other titles available in this series:
Inferno
Ambush
Blood Strike
Killpoint
Vendetta
Stalk Line
Omega Game
Shock Tactic
Showdown
Precision Kill
Jungle Law
Dead Center
Tooth and Claw
Thermal Strike
Day of the Vulture
Flames of Wrath
High Aggression
Code of Bushido
Terror Spin
Judgment in Stone
Rage for Justice
Rebels and Hostiles
Ultimate Game
Blood Feud
Renegade Force
Retribution
Initiation
Cloud of Death
Termination Point
Hellfire Strike
Code of Conflict
Vengeance
Executive Action
Killsport
Conflagration
Storm Front
War Season
Evil Alliance
Scorched Earth
Deception
Destinyâs Hour
Power of the Lance
A Dying Evil
Deep Treachery
War Load
Sworn Enemies
Dark Truth
Breakaway
Blood and Sand
Caged
Sleepers
Strike and Retrieve
Age of War
Line of Control
Breached
Retaliation
Pressure Point
Silent Running
Stolen Arrows
Zero Option
Predator Paradise
Circle of Deception
Devilâs Bargain
False Front
Lethal Tribute
Season of Slaughter
Point of Betrayal
Ballistic Force
Renegade
Survival Reflex
Path to War
Mack Bolan®
Don Pendleton
Do not seek evil gains; evil gains are the equivalent of disaster.
âHesiod
c.700 B.C.
Man makes his own choices. He chooses to either travel the righteous path, or to go the way of Animal Man. Without punishment for conscious and willful evil acts, Animal Man wins. My job is to level the playing field.
âMack Bolan
To the unswerving dedication of the men and women of the Department of Justice
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
Kinbuvu Gaungalat considered the monster holed up in the apartment, and images of predators on the high savage end of the food chain leaped to mind. The former UNITA colonel may have staked his surveillance point from the dark end of an alley in Old Madrid, somewhere deep in the maze of cobbled streets choked with adobe apartment buildings, plazas, restaurants, bars, monasteries and convents, but numerous visions of feeding frenzies seemed to burn, alive and thrashing, the longer he stared at the wrought-iron balcony, nursing hatred, craving revenge.
And there it came, in living color, it seemed, as he felt the fire searing out from the core of his soul.
He envisioned the lioness on the savanna, her jaws clamped on the throat of a zebra as she took it down in a blast of dust and spewing blood. Then he pictured the crocodile, erupting out of brown waters in a great spume as its razor-sharp teeth clamped the neck of a gazelle that had fallen behind the pack in the river crossing, dragging it beneath the surface, drowning it in a death roll, the beastâs throat filling with the blood of its victim before the real devouring began. He imagined next the white shark, its massive dark shape boiling, a torpedo with teeth the size of celery stalks, as it surged up from the depths of the waters around South Africaâs Seal Island, a crimson cloud spraying the air before the creature splashed down to consume its meal in a frothy scarlet maelstrom.
Ultimate predators, driven by primal instinct to consume flesh to survive.
All of which, he decided, was simply the beautiful brutality of nature sorting out the food chain, the larger, more aggressive and dangerous animals ruling supreme, deciding, for the most part, what would live, what would fall prey to fill its belly. Something always, it seemed to him, had to die so something could live. And that held especially true, he concluded, in the world from where he came.
Only the predator he wished to kill had never displayed even a scintilla of such courage, much less any skill in those death hunts of wild animals. No, the monster in hiding was a mass murder, he knew, a coward who wallowed in the lap of obscene luxury while others risked their lives to carry out his homicidal dictates, swell his coffers with money earned on the blood of those he oppressed.
That in mind, Gaungalat reached into the dark vault of the gruesome past. For a moment he felt a stab of pain and bitter remorse as he weighed the awful truth about the living hell that was Angola. Like many of his countrymen he was Christian, a Roman Catholic, in fact, his ancestors converted by European missionaries who had passed on the teachings of their faith and their Bible down through the generations. Thus, recalling the Book of Revelation, he couldnât help but picture the former Portuguese colony as a vast and eternal plague of death, war, starvation and pestilence, delivered unto allâin spirit, if nothing else, as far as he was concernedâa terrifying preview of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. But had he not played a small part in the madness of genocide, razing villages where rival MPLA rebels were suspected of hiding large weapons caches, only to slaughter their women and children? he wondered. Had he not turned a blind eye when his soldiers vented anger and hatred through orgies of rape, torture and mutilation on helpless victims? Had he not, as overlord of the diamond mines of Cuango, personally flayed with bullwhip the impoverished miners and near to death?
