TAKE NO PRISONERS
Death floods the streets of Florida as rival gangs kill for blood rights to the distribution of a new synthetic drug, Crocodil. The Russian substitute for heroin, itâs the ultimate prize in the drug turf warsâa cheap high that brings even cheaper death. As rival Mexican and Salvadoran cartels shoot it out for kingpin status, Mack Bolan joins the war. Unleashing incendiary hell on gang territory in Miami, he blasts his way through a pipeline that leads south to Guatemala, where a corrupt Swiss pharmaceutical company has set up manufacturing. Allied with a couple of locals equally dedicated to stopping this lethal fix before it hits Main Street, U.S.A., Bolan faces an army of hard-core mercenaries and miles of cartel blood lust. Outgunned but never outmaneuvered, the Executioner doesnât soft-sell his brand of payback to these merchants of human misery. Bolan goes in hard and without mercy.
Bang scythed the grenadierâs legs out from under him
Bolan rose to one knee, swung up both .45s and emptied them into the remaining enemy gunner. He dropped his left-hand gun and clawed for his last magazine. The two surviving bikers tore away.
The soldier got to his feet and lurched into the street. The biker he had shot was crawling away. Most people didnât crawl away with three .45âs in their back. That told Bolan the guy was wearing body armor.
The Executioner searched for his team. Kaino was helping Svarzkova to her feet and weeping from the CS stench she gave off. Bang had reloaded and was covering Bolan, who could barely hear his own voice as he shouted, âBanger, weâre taking this guy with us! Get the car. Weâre out of here!â
CHAPTER ONE
Miami Metropolitan Area, Florida
Mack Bolan, aka the Executioner, slid into the unmarked car and stuck out his hand. âEvening, Master Sergeant.â Miami-Dade Police Master Sergeant Gadiel Kaino could have been Bill Cosbyâs younger, bigger, redheaded brother who had been a prizefighter but let himself go. The Puerto Rican cop shook Bolanâs hand. âCall me Kaino.â
âCall me Cooper.â
âYou sure you want to do this? They eat white men alive where you want to go, and theyâll eat me for aiding and abetting.â
Bolan had done his research. Kaino had a large reputation in the Miami Metropolitan Area for breaking rules, stepping on toes and being one of the toughest cops in the county. Bolan noted the small tattoo of a heart with a scrolling N inside it on the flesh between his right thumb and forefinger. Kaino had been a member of the Puerto Rican Netas gang in his youth. âIâm down if you are.â
Kaino was down. He stepped on the gas and the eighties-vintage Crown Victoria rumbled forward. Bolan could feel the tightness of the suspension as Kaino took them into the bowels of the Metro. Kaino was clearly wary of Bolan. âJustice Department Observation Liaison Officer?â
Bolan grinned. âThat would be me.â
âYou arenât Marshals Service.â
âNo, but I know some good marshals.â
âYeah, me, too.â Kainoâs eyes narrowed. âYou sure as hell arenât a lawyer.â
âNo.â
âHomeland Security?â
âNope.â
Master Sergeant Kaino had come up through Miami-Dade during the explosion of cocaine and the war on drugs of the 1980s. He gave Bolan a disparaging look. âTell me you arenât CIA.â
âIâm not CIA,â Bolan confirmed.
âOkay, so, not to be a dick or anything...â
âBut...?â
âWho the fuck are you?â
Bolan looked at the ID badge hanging over his chest. âIâm a Justice Department Observation Liaison Officer.â
Kaino made a noise. âThatâs messed up.â
âYeah, theyâre usually a little more creative.â
âI hope you brought some heavy iron, man. Where weâre going isnât good.â
Bolan glanced at his bulging gear bag in the back. âThe hugest.â
Miami-Dade sweltered in the summer heat, and they instantly lost the breeze off the ocean as Kaino took them inland. The neighborhoods went from bad to worse to urban war zone. Groups of people on porches and street corners gave the Crown Vic very hard looks. Bolan noted a number of the hard cases gave Kaino wary nods of recognition and respect. A small minority waved. On a corner a pair of prostitutes dressed like aerobics instructors shrieked happily as they rolled by. âHola, Kaino!â âLooking good, Papi!â