State Of Evil
ROAD TO ARMAGEDDONA call from an old friend sends Mack Bolan to the Congo, armed and ready to extract a young man from cultists calling themselves The Process. Led by a fanatical sociopath who believes his ultimate power lies beyond the divine–but also in the hands of an elite security team of Uzi-wielding enforcers– this self-styled prophet's most recent holy act involved removing all traces of a U.S. congressman's humanitarian visit, including the bodies. Making his way through the jungle with his reluctant charge in tow and hunters on his back, Bolan's instincts kick into high gear, quickly turning the rescue mission into a race to stop the detonation of an atomic weapon before the African cult leader's personal Judgment Day leaves no opportunity for second chances….
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Bolan had taken on the job for old timesâ sake
He was driven by feelings long suppressed if not forgotten, paying an installment on a debt of loyalty he knew would never fully be discharged. In truth, he didnât want to cut that tie, however tenuous it was.
Sometimes even a scarred and bloodied warrior needed something to remind him of another time. Another life. It might be lost beyond recall, but memories were precious, all the same.
He palmed the GPS device and got his bearings, let the compact gadget point him toward his goal. A stranger waited for him there, not knowing it. Bolan had come to save that stranger from himself, at any cost.
Old ghosts kept pace with Bolan as he struck off through the jungle on a trail invisible to human eyes.
Other titles available in this series:
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
Blood Dynasty
Ultimate Stakes
State of Evil
Mack Bolan®
Don Pendleton
There is no arguing with the pretenders to a divine knowledge and to a divine mission. They are possessed of the sin of pride, they have yielded to the perennial temptation.
âWalter Lipmann,
The Public Philosophy
Thereâll be no argument with my opponents on this mission. The plan is simple, in and out. God help anyone who stands in my way.
âMack Bolan
For fighting men and women in harmâs way
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
Obike, Republic of Congo
The congressman was sweating, which was no surprise, given the oppressive temperature and humidity. But climate couldnât explain the tingling chill he felt at the back of his neck.
A sense of being watched.
He turned abruptly in his chair, raising a hand as if to swat a troublesome mosquito, and he caught one of Gaboroneâs bodyguards turning away, suddenly anxious to avert his eyes.
It wasnât paranoia, then.
The goons were watching him.
Lee Rathbun wished heâd never made this trip, but it was too late now for backing out. He was the youngest congressman in California, midway through his second two-year term in Washington and looking for a chance to prove himself. The Congo trip had fit his need, humanitarian and daring all at once, solving a problem, maybe bringing justice to a charlatan while overcoming certain hardships in the process.
Naturally heâd brought a camera crew along to put the show on tape. Why not?
The problem was that heâd been misinformed, somewhere along the line. Ahmadou Gaborone had that Jim Jones/David Koresh air about him, smiling serenely while chaos churned behind his eyes. He spoke sometimes in riddles, other times in parables that could mean anything or nothing. Typically, his voice was soft, almost hypnotic, but when raised to make a point during one of his marathon sermons, it shook the very primal forest that surrounded Obike, the retreat.
Lee Rathbunâs mission was twofold. First, he had promised to inspect Obike and report his findings to constituents whose loved ones had deserted sunny California for the jungle compound where Gaborone was constructing his tentative Eden on Earth. Second, he was supposed to interview the absent kin of those who had besieged his hometown office, seeking help. He would seek out the converts, take a private reading on their health and state of mind, and share his findings with their families.
Simple.
Aside from nailing down some grateful votes, the junket would earn him a page, maybe two, of fresh ink in the Congressional Record, when he filed his report with Congress.
Now he was almost done and it was nearly time to leave, but Rathbun couldnât shake that creepy feeling that suggested hostile eyes tracking his every move.
One of the guards was moving toward him now, a sullen six-footer whose plaid short-sleeved shirt was unbuttoned, revealing an ebony six-pack that shone as if oiled. His AK-47, Gaborone had explained, was one the group used to protect them against Gaboroneâs enemies, those who would harm him for spreading Godâs message.
âSay goodbye now,â the guard told Rathbun. âTime to go.â
