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Cartel Clash. Don PendletonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Cartel Clash - Don Pendleton


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very honest person. He told me why he was here and what he was trying to do. He wanted to end our relationship because of Tomas, but I told him how I felt about Dembrow and his operation. That I wanted Tomas to break away. He said he would do what he could, but made no promises.”

      “It must have been difficult for you both.”

      “Yes. But by then it was too late for Don to simply walk away. He was too deeply involved. Both of us knew that if Dembrow found out he would order us both killed. Don told me he had a final piece of information to collect, then he would call in his people. He had to be careful with what he had found. It was becoming harder for him to pass on his findings to his people. Don suspected there was someone in the local department on Dembrow’s payroll. We had planned to move away after his assignment was over, but I believe Tomas found out about us at the same time he learned who Don really was. Two days after that Don vanished without a word. Tomas came to me and told me what he had done. He said that because we were family he had told Dembrow’s people to leave me alone. But he would be watching in case I did anything foolish. I did not know what I should do.” She shook her head in despair. “My own brother. He has become so involved with the Rojas Cartel that nothing is sacred to him any longer. He has become poisoned by their evil. Now I would not be surprised by anything he does.”

      3

      “We spotted them,” Dante said into his cell phone. “The guy with her fits the description we got from Lucas when we spoke to him at the hospital. He’s the one who attacked him and Diaz. They’re going into the diner on Avalon. They came out of the motel up the street.”

      “Okay. Wait for backup, then deal with them. That son of a bitch could be DEA, picking up where that other bastard left off. We’ll be with you in a couple of minutes. Send one guy around back to deal with the diner staff, then go in the front door and waste them both. I don’t want this fucking mess to get any bigger than it already is. Boss man is pissed enough because of that undercover agent. Right now we’ve got to close this down.”

      “Another hit so soon? You don’t figure this will piss him off even more?”

      “More than that fuckin’ Mex spilling her guts to a Fed? Wake up, Dante. This needs the door slammin’ on it before it ends up on the news.”

      “I guess.”

      “Don’t guess. I’ll drop the guys up the block from where you are. Pick them up and hit that diner now. I’ll tell Dembrow to make sure we’re all covered.”

      “I’m not so sure I like that,” Dante said.

      “What?”

      “The thought where you figure we need covering.”

      “Dante, just do it, or it’ll be your sorry ass in a sling.”

      “JESUS,” DEMBROW YELLED. “I don’t want you going round shooting up the whole goddamn town. When I said find the girl and the guy with her, I meant bring them in alive so we can talk to them.”

      “Mr. Dembrow, I figured the best was if they were dead. Then we’re rid of the problem.”

      “Peck, you don’t make decisions without passing it by me.” Dembrow slammed his hand down on his desk. “Call Dante. Pull the fuckin’ crew out before this happens. Do it now.”

      Dante tapped the cell phone’s keypad. He heard the other phone ring, and keep ringing—and he knew he was too late.

      4

      Pilar paused, pushing away the remains of her meal. Bolan asked the waitress for more coffee. He felt for the young woman. Her life had been dramatically changed following the death of Manners, and the soldier understood her situation. The man she had loved had been snatched from her, and her own brother had the responsibility for that. He would not have liked to have been in that position.

      “Since Tomas has gone across the border to see Rojas, I finally went back to Don’s apartment. It was torn apart. Dembrow’s people had been there. Perhaps they believed Don had left information lying around. They are that stupid. Did they expect he would display his reports for them to find?” She sat upright, thrusting her hands through her dark hair, shaking her head. “I could have cried when I saw what they had done to his apartment. It wasn’t much, but we had spent good times there. Then I found the lighter on the floor where it had been scattered with other things. I took a few personal items and wrapped them in a bundle. It was only as I walked away that those two followed me.”

      “And that was when I showed up.”

      “Lucky for me.” She smiled, raising her coffee cup. “I want to know how I can help. What can I tell you about Dembrow’s organization? Or Rojas?”

      “All you know. Or believe you know.”

      A sixth sense made Bolan’s combat senses flair. Something had altered the mood of the diner, and when he glanced beyond Pilar he saw that the diner was deserted. The waitress and the cook from the kitchen had vanished.

      Bolan reached behind him and eased out the P-226. As he brought his hand to the front, Pilar’s eyes widened at the sight of the weapon.

      A moving shadow caught Bolan’s eye. Someone moved into view from the kitchen. The guy cleared the edge of the serving shelf. He carried a shotgun, the muzzle rising.

      Bolan’s reaction was pure and simple. He two-fisted the SIG and triggered three fast shots. The 9 mm slugs centered in the guy’s chest, knocking him back. His hands jerked the shotgun up and it fired at the diner’s ceiling. Shots blasted at one of the light fittings, sparks showering as the fluorescent tubes exploded.

      The door to the diner burst open, a lean figure stepping inside. The guy carried an SMG and he opened fire as the muzzle tracked in.

      Bolan had reached out to grab Pilar and haul her out of the line of fire, but his action was a second too late. In a frozen moment of clarity he saw the coffee cup in her hand explode, the dark liquid shearing into fine drops. The line of slugs traveled along her arm and across her chest, the brutal impact shredding cloth and puncturing flesh. Gouts of blood flew everywhere as she was twisted under the impact. The stunned expression on Pilar’s beautiful face was suddenly obscured as the spray of slugs ripped into her jaw and cheek, taking away bone and tissue. Then her thick mass of black hair swung wildly in the instant before the top of her head exploded, blood and brain matter misting the air.

      5

      Rage at the wanton destruction of a young life fueled Bolan’s actions. Even as Pilar’s slender body fell back, the Executioner dropped to one knee below the level of the table. He took a single, hard breath, then launched himself from cover, knowing his move had gained him scant seconds. The gunner would be angling away from the door, seeking to regain his target. Bolan wasn’t about to allow him any leeway.

      He heard the thump of booted feet on the diner floor and saw the guy’s lower legs in the gap between booths. Bolan snapped the SIG around, extended his right arm and put single shots into the guy’s knees, the 9 mm slugs shattering bone and dropping the shooter to the floor. As he stumbled, yelling in pain, the hardman came face-to-face with his attacker, and the intense look in the Executioner’s eyes told the man his life was at an end. He threw out one hand as if to plead for mercy, but his supplication was ignored. Bolan hit him with a triple volley that caved in his face and cored into his brain.

      Bolan powered up off the floor, tucking the SIG back behind his belt and snatching up the abandoned SMG, an H&K MP-5. He noted the taped second magazine as he straightened and, checking the diner’s frontage, saw the black SUV parked at an angle on the diner’s lot, its doors gaping open. Three more armed figures were closing on the eatery, weapons up, confirming they were not stopping in for coffee.

      As the lead gunner mounted the steps, Bolan triggered the SMG through the glass of the door. Glittering shards blew out, mingling with the sustained burst of automatic fire. The guy took the full force in his midsection, the volley tearing at his insides.


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