Don Pendleton: Splinter Cell

Bolan was a split second too late

He reached out to grab the young woman’s arm just as her hand closed around the doorknob. Star had already pushed open the door and started to speak when the first round exploded from inside the hostel office.

From where he stood next to the partially opened door, the Executioner couldn’t see the gunman or any of the other men in the office. But he saw the result of the shot as it struck Star in the side of the neck and threw a fistful of flesh and blood back against the wall of the hallway.

The bullet ended Star’s words in midsentence. As to her life, Bolan had no time to find out. He was too busy kicking the door fully open and drawing the Desert Eagle from under his vest.

MACK BOLAN®

The Executioner

#265 Freedom Force

#266 Ultimate Price

#267 Invisible Invader

#268 Shattered Trust

#269 Shifting Shadows

#270 Judgment Day

#271 Cyberhunt

#272 Stealth Striker

#273 UForce

#274 Rogue Target

#275 Crossed Borders

#276 Leviathan

#277 Dirty Mission

#278 Triple Reverse

#279 Fire Wind

#280 Fear Rally

#281 Blood Stone

#282 Jungle Conflict

#283 Ring of Retaliation

#284 Devil’s Army

#285 Final Strike

#286 Armageddon Exit

#287 Rogue Warrior

#288 Arctic Blast

#289 Vendetta Force

#290 Pursued

#291 Blood Trade

#292 Savage Game

#293 Death Merchants

#294 Scorpion Rising

#295 Hostile Alliance

#296 Nuclear Game

#297 Deadly Pursuit

#298 Final Play

#299 Dangerous Encounter

#300 Warrior’s Requiem

#301 Blast Radius

#302 Shadow Search

#303 Sea of Terror

#304 Soviet Specter

#305 Point Position

#306 Mercy Mission

#307 Hard Pursuit

#308 Into the Fire

#309 Flames of Fury

#310 Killing Heat

#311 Night of the Knives

#312 Death Gamble

#313 Lockdown

#314 Lethal Payload

#315 Agent of Peril

#316 Poison Justice

#317 Hour of Judgment

#318 Code of Resistance

#319 Entry Point

#320 Exit Code

#321 Suicide Highway

#322 Time Bomb

#323 Soft Target

#324 Terminal Zone

#325 Edge of Hell

#326 Blood Tide

#327 Serpent’s Lair

#328 Triangle of Terror

#329 Hostile Crossing

#330 Dual Action

#331 Assault Force

#332 Slaughter House

#333 Aftershock

#334 Jungle Justice

#335 Blood Vector

#336 Homeland Terror

#337 Tropic Blast

#338 Nuclear Reaction

#339 Deadly Contact

#340 Splinter Cell

Splinter Cell

Don Pendleton

It is even better to act quickly and err than to hesitate until the time of action is past.

—Carl von Clausewitz, 1780–1831

On War

There is a time to contemplate and a time to take action. I am a man of action.

—Mack Bolan

THE MACK BOLAN LEGEND

Nothing less than a war could have fashioned the destiny of the man called Mack Bolan. Bolan earned the Executioner title in the jungle hell of Vietnam.

But this soldier also wore another name—Sergeant Mercy. He was so tagged because of the compassion he showed to wounded comrades-in-arms and Vietnamese civilians.

Mack Bolan’s second tour of duty ended prematurely when he was given emergency leave to return home and bury his family, victims of the Mob. Then he declared a one-man war against the Mafia.

He confronted the Families head-on from coast to coast, and soon a hope of victory began to appear. But Bolan had broken society’s every rule. That same society started gunning for this elusive warrior—to no avail.

So Bolan was offered amnesty to work within the system against terrorism. This time, as an employee of Uncle Sam, Bolan became Colonel John Phoenix. With a command center at Stony Man Farm in Virginia, he and his new allies—Able Team and Phoenix Force—waged relentless war on a new adversary: the KGB.

But when his one true love, April Rose, died at the hands of the Soviet terror machine, Bolan severed all ties with Establishment authority.

Now, after a lengthy lone-wolf struggle and much soul-searching, the Executioner has agreed to enter an “arm’s-length” alliance with his government once more, reserving the right to pursue personal missions in his Everlasting War.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

The salt sea air mixed with the odor of fish grew stronger in Phil Paxton’s nostrils as he made his final walk toward the Ijsselmeer. Amsterdam was different from what he’d expected it to be. No, he thought as he stopped along the concrete railing to gaze down one of the city’s many canals, it wasn’t Amsterdam that was different.

It was his behavior within the city that had surprised him.

Phil looked at his watch. He’d be back in New York by this time the following night. He was ready to get back. Not just ready but anxious. Phil Paxton was ready to go home. He was ready to marry Janie.

Taking in a final breath of sea air, Phil turned and retraced his steps toward the hotel. But when a passing taxi slowed he suddenly found himself waving it down. He still had several hours to kill before he headed to the airport.

“Rijksmuseum,” he said as he got into the backseat.

The driver nodded, pulled away from the curb and reached forward and turned on the radio.

Phil closed his eyes and he pictured Janie as she had looked when she’d dropped him off at the airport two weeks earlier. Tears had trickled down her face, smearing her mascara and reddening her eyes. She had kissed him on the cheek rather than the mouth, then said softly, “Come back to me…if that’s what you want to do.” Then, without another word, she’d turned and walked away.

Pain seared through his heart as Phil opened his eyes again. They were passing a large park with grills set in concrete and bicycle paths. He could imagine families crowding around picnic tables, laughing, having fun, children racing about playing tag and other youthful games. He had told Janie that he had promised himself as a child that he would visit Amsterdam someday—before he got married. He had told her that he had always dreamed of visiting the Rembrandt House museum, the house where Anne Frank’s family had hidden during the Nazi occupation, the step-gabled houses, historic churches and ancient towers.

The history of the city fascinated him. But that had not been his only reason for wanting to go to Amsterdam. And even though he hadn’t told her, Janie knew it as well as he did.

The cabbie stopped at a red light, then turned right. Phil Paxton frowned. He would have sworn the Rijksmuseum was to the left. But what did he know? Maybe the cabdriver knew a shortcut. More likely, he knew a “long cut” that would increase the fare.

As the cab picked up speed, Phil closed his eyes again. Although Dutch painters and architecture had always been hobbies that bordered on passions with him, both he and Janie had known it was a very different kind of passion that had brought him to Amsterdam. Phil Paxton wanted to know for certain if he had finally settled down enough to get married. He didn’t want to marry Janie only to find himself cheating on her two weeks later. He needed to find out if he could resist temptation. And few places in the world presented temptation in the form of beautiful and available women like Amsterdam.