Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
A WORLD GONE MAD
Jihad strikes the heart of Indonesia in a vicious terrorist onslaught to seize control of the entire region. The collusion of local extremist factions and the most powerful global terrorist network has produced a formidable enemy with the means--and the will--to unleash genocide.
As part of covert U.S. intervention in the crisis, Mack Bolan and key Stony Man operatives are tasked with finding the terrorists' stronghold and weapons of mass destruction. But time is running out and the enemy's strategy and skill are putting the odds at zero for a successful mission.
Nations are under siege in a world gone insanely wrong, and Bolan is at the epicenter of the madness. But he's been there before. And there's a way out....
Bolan said. “I just want to make sure they don’t double back and start taking potshots at us.” “A little paranoid, are we?” Bahn said. “Your buddy just vouched for those guys, remember?” “Just keep your eyes open,” Bolan told her. She snapped a mock salute. “Yes, sir!” Bolan ignored the sarcasm and rejoined Kissinger. Together they began to look over the camp. There wasn’t much to inspect. The terrorists had traveled light. A couple of logs had been set near the firepit and stacked near the
good a job tailing Pohtoh and Jahf-Al as you do anything wearing a skirt, we wouldn’t be having this meeting!” Tohm remained unperturbed. Smirking, he told the others, “It would appear our friends with the CIA are still upset that we don’t jump through their hoops every time they hold them up for us.” “Kiss my ass,” Scoville muttered, triggering another round of gasps and murmurs. “That’s quite enough!” General Suseno slammed his fist on the table, and a flush of color crept across his pallid
through the opening, landing a few yards next to his comrade. Once over the ledge, Bolan carefully lowered himself down the chiseled rungs, gun in hand. He’d made it halfway down when gunshots kissed off the rocks just to his right. He pressed himself against the facing, supporting his weight with his feet and left hand, freeing his right to fire his Desert Eagle at a gunman crouched in the rubble behind a pair of half-severed stalagmites. He had to empty the .44 but finally the other man sagged
pelt the craft’s exterior. Bolan thought at first that maybe Kissinger and Mochtar had already managed to storm their way aboard, but he couldn’t recognize any of the voices. Finally, there were shots aboard the vessel and Bolan saw one of the men topple overboard into the river. Moments later, there was a loud curse, followed by another shot. Bolan still didn’t recognize the voice, but whoever had fired the shot was clearly American. “Hold your fire!” the man called out. He tossed his gun to
“It was part of my cover!” Latek insisted. “I am a spy for KOPASSUS!” “He’s lying!” Latek glanced over his shoulder toward the hydrofoil. His face registered shock when he saw Ma’ruf leap down from the deck and stride over. “He’s lying!” Ma’ruf repeated, pointing a finger at Latek. “He is a spy, all right, but not for KOPASSUS. His loyalty is with Moamar Pohtoh and the Lashkar Jihad!” “No!” Latek shouted. “I have seen you with Pohtoh!” Ma’ruf shouted back. “Several times! Laughing together