Don Pendleton - Hellfire Code

Bolan located Neely’s apartment and knocked. A minute elapsed before he knocked again and waited patiently in silence. He pulled a lock-pick set from his pocket and expertly overcame the cheap door handle. The apartments here didn’t even have dead bolts. Bolan opened the door wide enough to slip through, and then quickly swept the apartment only to find it empty.

The Executioner took a position in the darkened recess of a doorway and waited.

ALMOST TWO HOURS ELAPSED in Bolan’s vigil before he hit pay dirt. It started with the sound of keys jingling outside the apartment, then the click of the lock. Bolan peered out of his shadowy position to watch as the door handle turned and the door swung inward. He recognized his mark the moment Neely entered, and waited until the door closed before he stepped from the shadows and raised the Beretta. He aligned his sights on the back of Neely’s neck as the NSA agent closed the door and locked it.

“Don’t move,” Bolan ordered. Neely started to turn and Bolan drew back the hammer on the Beretta. “I said ‘don’t.’”

Neely froze.

Bolan walked over to Neely, pistol unwavering, and quickly frisked him. He found a 9 mm SIG-Sauer pistol tucked in Neely’s front pocket and relieved him of it. Bolan then grabbed Neely by the collar and pulled him backward into an overstuffed chair. He studied Neely for a moment, watched his eyes, but saw only surprise there.

“I can see from that look you weren’t expecting me,” Bolan said.

“Actually I was,” Neely replied. “I just didn’t think it would be this soon. It took you long enough.”

“Don’t try it,” Bolan said in a clipped fashion.

“Try what?”

“Try to make it sound as if this was all part of your plan. You skip on our meet without so much as getting a message to me. Then you show up in the Philippines, chumming it up with terrorists.”

“What terrorists? You mean, Downing?” Neely let out a snort. “That guy’s no terrorist.”

“I think ordering the wholesale slaughter of innocent people and then calling them ‘casualties of war’ qualifies him for the title,” Bolan replied.

“Downing didn’t order any such thing, Cooper,” Neely shot back. “His little hit team did all that on their own. It wasn’t intentional.”

“Doesn’t explain why you’re running,” Bolan said.

“Because Downing’s a crazy son of a bitch, and so is Stezhnya.”

“Who’s Stezhnya?”

“Alek Stezhnya.” Neely waved his hand with irritation. “He’s some type of gun-for-hire, ex-Russian military I think. The guy creeps me out. Both of them creep me out.”

Bolan expressed frostiness. “Most fanatics do.”

“They’re not fanatics, they’re—I don’t know…fatalists.” Neely paused to take a deep breath. “Look, Cooper, I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. I’m sick about it.”

“So do the right thing and tell me how I can get to Downing and his mercenaries.”

“I don’t know for sure.”

Bolan didn’t hide his skepticism.

“Look, I swear I don’t,” Neely said, throwing up his hands. “I know Downing has a base of operations somewhere south of here.”

“How far?”

“Can’t be sure, but I’m positive he’s operating out there.”

“The woman and child living here,” Bolan said quickly. “How do you figure in with them?”

“My wife and little girl.”

“Why aren’t they living with you in the States?”

“Because I had some difficulty with her immigration status,” Neely replied in a tone Bolan read as truthful. “It’s been hell trying to get her over there since the crackdown on terrorism. Lots of bureaucracy and red tape.”

“You shouldn’t have trouble given your connections,” Bolan challenged.

“I decided not to use them,” Neely said. “I was trying to keep it quiet.”

“Why?”

Neely gestured in a nondescript fashion. “Because I wanted to avoid Downing finding out about them. Somehow he got on to Malaya and Corinne before I could do anything about it.”

“So you came here to make sure they were okay,” Bolan finished.

“Yeah,” Neely said with a sigh of relief. “I had some vacation time coming and I thought I could beat him to it. First he contacted me and asked for my help. When I turned him down flat, he threatened my family.”

“Why you?”

“Who knows, but I’m sure it’s because he didn’t know who else might have the information he needed. Nobody has intelligence on the terrorists like the NSA. Hell, you probably know that better than most. There were times I figured you knew more than I did and I was just confirming your facts.”

“Maybe so,” Bolan interjected. “Keep talking.”

“Word on the inside is that Downing’s horned off a few important people. In NSA-speak that means he’s out of any favor with most of our internal bunch, and what few friends he has he either alienated with the Atlanta stunt or just plain murdered.”

“Where’s your family now?”

“I’ve moved them, hopefully where Downing and his goons can’t get their hands on them.”

Bolan shook his head. “Not likely, buddy. They managed to find out about them just like they managed to track you here. That tells me he has eyes and ears in town. The score’s zero and two in the other team’s favor. He’ll find them again. You can’t protect them and still do your job.”

“What job’s that?”

“Helping me get inside Downing’s operation here.”

“But I don’t even know where that is,” Neely protested.

“No, but you can contact him and set up a meet,” Bolan said. “That’s a step closer than I am right now.”

“Okay, so you get a step closer. Then what?”

“Leave that to me,” Bolan replied, boring through Neely with ice-blue eyes.

“What, are you some kind of one-man army?” Neely asked in a joking tone.

Bolan’s smile lacked warmth, and with good reason. “Maybe Downing thinks he’s invincible and maybe he thinks he’s out of reach from the American government. But he’s not out of my reach. Let’s leave it there.”

“Okay, I’ll set up the meet, but then I want out.”

“Fine. So let’s get back to this deal with your wife and daughter. You’ve told me the truth?”

“Nothing but, Cooper. On my mother’s grave. You have to believe me.”

“Maybe I do,” Bolan said. “When did you last see Downing?”

“Last evening,” he said without hesitation.

That seemed to match up with what Price had told him, so Bolan decided for the moment Neely was shooting straight. He still didn’t completely trust the guy, but he could see how it might have gone down like this. The thing he had to do now was get to Downing before anything else happened. Simultaneously, he’d have to contact Stony Man to see if they could arrange safe passage out of the country for Neely and his family.

Bolan decided to play his wild card.

“You know a scientist by the name of Peter Hagen?”

Neely appeared to search his memory, nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so. If I remember right, he was some kind of big-wig with the special projects division at the Agency. In fact, now that you mention it, I think he worked under Downing’s tenure.”

“That’s him,” Bolan said. “You know of any reason why Downing would want him dead?”

“Not off hand, but I’m sure it has something to do with these big plans he keeps bragging about.”

“What big plans?”

“I didn’t get details. Downing doesn’t like to give out details. He’s the kind to hold on to what little pathetic power he has. All I know is what I’ve told you. Sounds like he has something up his sleeve, something he plans to use to spearhead his operations against the terrorists.”