Righteous Fear by Don Pendleton

Righteous Fear

Righteous Fear by Don Pendleton
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 3.6 MB

Don Pendleton was born in Little Rock, Arkansas, December 12, 1927 and died October 23, 1995 in Arizona.

He wrote mystery, action/adventure, science-fiction, crime fiction, suspense, short stories, nonfiction, and was a comic scriptwriter, poet, screenwriter, essayist, and metaphysical scholar. He published more than 125 books in his long career, and his books have been published in more than 25 foreign languages with close to two hundred million copies in print throughout the world.

HOLY TERROR

The Executioner once saved Dr. Annis Hassan from a right-wing Muslim attack in the Afghanistan desert. But when a Christian extremist gunman attacks the heroic doctor’s women’s health center in Mobile, Alabama, Mack Bolan knows Annis is now the target of two lethal fanatic groups. And no one goes after the Executioner’s friends without hellish payback. Battling squads of brutal mercenaries and terrorist soldiers, Bolan homes in on the megalomaniacal leaders of both factions—they’re determined to spill more innocent blood to sate their twisted sense of salvation. But this time, the Executioner will be smiting down these fanatics with his own explosive brand of fiery payback!

He revved the Polaris. Rear wheels rooster-tailed sand behind him before they caught traction and threw Bolan at the besieged Afghans at almost 70 miles an hour. The snarl of his ATV drew the attention of a couple of the Taliban fighters ahead of him as the distance between them disappeared.

With a stab of his thumb, the Desert Eagle was live and unleashed to strike. Bolan almost tore the head off one of the terrorists, spearing the man’s chin with 240 grains of lead that ripped open muscle and neck bone alike.

The other Taliban killer struggled to track the Executioner, but Bolan had already zoomed past the searching muzzle. The big American adjusted for relative motion between them, planting a .44 Magnum seed within the breastbone of the terrorist. The hollowpoint round grew into a gore-blasting flower that shredded heart and lung tissue before exiting through the enemy gunner’s back.

Bolan bounced the Polaris off a small berm of sand and landed beside one of the larger tents. He fired the Desert Eagle rapidly, emptying the rest of the magazine and making four solid kills on the marauders. Briefly, he noted a large red cross on a section of tent.

These murderous thugs had zero qualms about shooting up a hospital tent. Ragged tears in the canvas provided his quick mind all the testimony required that his diversion had been a necessity.

Stuffing his Desert Eagle into its holster and switching to his Beretta 93-R, Bolan charged the Polaris through the fire zone to the other side of the camp. En route, he burned off the twenty rounds in the extended magazine and the one in the breech of the machine pistol. Bursts ripped from the vented muzzle at 1230 feet per second and trios of Parabellum rounds smashed chests, shoulders and faces.

Ten confirmed kills, but what the Executioner didn’t know was the full size of the assault force or if there were incoming reserves. A quick glance at the far side of the encampment showed that the forces attacking were indeed symmetrical. They were also highly trained. The two groups of gunners worked and fired at right angles, keeping the groups out of each other’s lines of fire.

Riflemen retreated and shifted positions. They covered one another with deft swiftness, their guns spitting hot lead and fire. The only good thing about their response to Bolan making himself a target was that more than a score of rifles once aimed at unarmed civilians was now focused on him.

The Executioner kicked the Polaris into a tight turn and shot to the perimeter of the camp. Gunfire scorched the air where he once had been. As the enemy gunners struggled to track him, he kept the ATV at full throttle, finding a section of ground at the perimeter that provided a waist-high dune and some rocks for cover. As soon as he got a boulder between himself and the shooters, he pulled a war bag off the vehicle.

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