MacK Bolan No. 62: Day of Mourning by Don Pendleton Read Free Book Online

understand," said the president in a reasonable tone to Bolan. "I share with my predecessors the view that Stony Man is vital to our national security. Don't you gentlemen feel there is some way for both your units to coexist?"
    Bolan turned to the president.
    "What does General Crawford say about this?"
    Perhaps the driving force in the development of Stony Man, and one of the main reasons Bolan had decided to take on the proffered government-sanctioned job at the end of his Mafia wars, was now-retired Brigadier General James Crawford. He had been Mack Bolan's commanding officer in Vietnam and had been invaluable in making the Phoenix dream a reality.
    "As you know, General Crawford oversaw the creation of Stony Man and the CFB," said the president. "Like myself, the general hopes a compromise can be worked out."
    Bolan faced the president head-on.
    "It will have to wait, sir. I'm needed in the field tonight. You've been briefed on what happened at Stony Man?"
    "I have."
    "Then you'll understand why I can't spend the night sitting here talking policy. Will that be all, sir?"
    A good-natured glint came into the president's eye.
    "Yes, Colonel. Thank you for coming. We'll be in touch."
    Bolan was in the outer hallway again, slipping on his retrieved shoulder rig, when Hal Brognola caught up with him.
    The burly Fed wore a mixed expression of awe and frustration.
    "You are the damndest guy," was all Hal could muster.
    Bolan stalked outside into the night. Brognola kept pace with him.
    "What was that business on the phone about an itch?" asked Hal. "And telling the president to deal you out if he wants to? I think we had better have a serious talk, Striker."
    "We will, Hal. But not tonight."
    "There you go with 'not tonight' again, just like you told the Man. I want an explanation. I know about the communications blackout at Stony Man Farm. But what makes you so damn sure there's going to be an attack on the Farm
tonight?"
    "I'm not sure, Hal. I'm not going to Stony Man."
    Brognola blinked.
    "You're not? Where the blazes are you going?"
    Bolan glanced at the city of lights beyond the perimeter of the floodlit White House grounds.
    "I'm going out there," Bolan told him. "Konzaki is in a coma, hanging on to life by a thread. Three good men are on the other side of the world and need to be alerted and told that they're walking into a trap."
    "You think The Dragon has the place wired?"
    Bolan nodded, his face a grim mask.
    "With enough firepower to kill Lyons, Schwarz and Blancanales before they know what hit them. And it's about to happen at any minute now, but we can't get word to them because someone sabotaged Stony Man communications. I am going to find who did this to us, Hal. They are not going to get another chance."
    "But where will you start? You don't have any leads."
    Grimaldi, waiting in the chopper, saw Bolan coming and revved up the engine in preparation for take off.
    Bolan raised his voice for Hal to hear.
    "I've already started. I'm going to shake this damn town to its roots. I'll get the answers. And it's happening tonight."
    Bolan jogged beneath the whirling blades and climbed into the Hughes.
    Brognola watched as Grimaldi smoothly lifted them off. The blinking red lights of the chopper grew smaller and smaller as the Hughes receded into the night sky.
    Then Brognola gave in to his urge and reached into a pocket for a cigar.
    He paused before lighting it, still looking into the dark sky long after the chopper disappeared.
    "You are the damndest guy," he said again to no one.
    Brognola pocketed the unlit cigar and walked back into the White House.

7
    "Where to?" asked Grimaldi.
    The evening lights of Washington and the gridiron arrangement of streets cut by diagonal avenues raced by beneath the chopper's Plexiglas.
    "We need an airfield," said Bolan above the steady rumble of the chopper. "I want you on standby alert for the rest of the night."
    "Boiling?"
    "Not tonight. Make it National. I'll need a car with no