Nuclear Storm

Verge of Extinction

An eco-terrorist group has set up base in a secluded part of Yellowstone National Park with a plan to save the planet. Believing mankind is a virus that must be eradicated, the group has set in motion a plot to kill millions in seconds and leave the rest of the human race on the verge of extinction. Nothing will throw them off course—including any campers who try to stop them. But Mack Bolan isn’t your average outdoorsman.

Unarmed, with only his wits and nature on his side as the clock ticks down to a nuclear disaster, Bolan knows the best chance for saving countless innocent lives and averting a global crisis is through guerilla warfare. The terrorists may be on a mission to destroy man, but the Executioner has his own elimination objectives.

Bullets punched holes in the fender near Bolan’s head.

He rolled to the passenger side of the pickup just as the sniper rifle’s report boomed again and another round tore through the cargo bed on the driver’s side. The flames from the engine would soon engulf the entire truck or reach the gas tank. Neither scenario made for a case to stay put.

Sticking his gun up over the edge of the bed, Bolan cranked off several 3-round bursts, then heaved himself over the side. Falling to the ground, he scooted under the truck, hoping to pick off at least one of the shooters before the sniper got lucky.

He scanned the forest, looking for movement, and caught a flash of fire from the tree line about twenty yards behind the truck.

Then a whoosh came from behind him and the engine burst with a spray of fluid. The flames dimmed for a moment, then flared up with renewed intensity. Bolan felt his feet and legs growing hotter each second. He shut all that out, and narrowed his world to the dot inside the circle at the end of the gun.

Amid the chaos, the Executioner inhaled through his nose, let the air escape through his mouth and squeezed the trigger.

Nuclear Storm

The Executioner

Don Pendleton

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it.

—Henry David Thoreau

1817–1862

Human beings have certain rights, the greatest being that to live. And when anyone dares steal this right from innocent people, I will step in and take away that person’s rights—every last one.

—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.

Special thanks and acknowledgment to Travis Morgan for his contribution to this work.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Prologue

Sitting under the clear Wyoming night sky, the thousands of stars overhead giving him an amazing view of the heavens, Joseph Sidell felt the stress of his first graduate student semester finally begin to dissipate from his neck and shoulders.

On the other side of the campfire, his roommate, George Turlington, smiled as he tossed another log on the blaze, making a burst of sparks float into the night sky. “Feelin’ better, buddy?”

“Yeah, but I’m still worried about the havoc this trip is gonna wreak on my schedule.”

“Jeez, will you just relax for the next two days? MIT will still be there when you get back, and your crushing workload will be right there waiting for you, too. Right now, just sit back, ponder the heavenly light show above us, and—” he winked one deep brown eye “—think of other pleasures you could be enjoying.”

Joe frowned. “What are you talking about?”

George rolled his eyes. “Dude, you have got to stop drawing all those buildings people will be living in in 2050 and take an occasional look at the world around you—and the people in it. Brandy is way into you, man!”

Joe’s brow furrowed even more. “Shut up! I wouldn’t even have a chance with a woman like her.”

“Dude, just ’cause she’s got the big brain on campus doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate other things in life—” he pointed a finger at Joe “—unlike some other people I could mention. You know she’s into all that environmental save-the-planet stuff. Your little modular boxes you wanna plant on the Serengeti are just the opening you need to start a conversation with her that could lead to—other things.”

It was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes. Even as an accomplished grad student in quantum physics, George’s exploits on campus with the opposite sex—students and professors both—were already the stuff of legend. With his Denzel-like looks, athletic ability and stratospheric IQ, he combined looks, body and brains in a completely irresistible package. Joe figured all his buddy would have to do was say the word and Brandy would fall naked at his feet.

By contrast, Joe was a brown-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned German, indistinguishable from any of the thousand other grad students on campus. That Brandy would even give him a second glance when Mr. Adonis was right beside him was an idea Joe found ludicrous at best.

George rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Look, I’ll prove it to you. When the others come back, I’ll bet she’ll come up with some excuse to go off for something—firewood, perhaps—and will ask for help. There’s your chance, stud.”

Joe smiled at his friend’s pipe dream. “I think you’ve been smoking too much salvia, buddy. But all right, just to shut you up, let’s see what happens when they return.” He looked around the neatly set up campsite, with the tents arranged around the campfire, and folding stadium chairs next to fully stocked coolers. Opening the nearest one, he grabbed a beer from it and raised an eyebrow at his roommate. “While we’re waiting…”

“Now you’re talking.” George deftly caught the cold can Joe tossed to him.

Bright headlights illuminated the clearing as an ancient but well cared-for Jeep Cherokee slowly climbed the narrow road—little more than a trail—leading to the campsite. The diesel engine died, and four students spilled out of the four-by-four.

Joe watched the quartet unload the rest of their supplies and haul them closer to the fire. Sanjay Patel was a mechanical engineering student working on the next generation of rechargeable batteries—and engines. Sandra Talbot was the archetypical mousy, brown-haired, glasses-wearing, library-haunting geek—who also happened to be studying the cutting edge of particle physics and had a 193 IQ. She was also George’s current girlfriend, which Joe was still trying to figure out. When he’d asked his roomie about her, all the other guy had said was, “What can I say? I likes ’em with big brains.”

Samuel Moskowitz, a finance grad taking a double major in forensic accounting and computer science, was planning to fight Wall Street crime after graduation. Rounding out the sextet was the improbably named Brandy Bodeen.

Even as buried as he was in worrying about the crushing workload awaiting him back at campus, Joe’s heart skipped a beat and his jeans tightened when he saw the lithe blonde tote another cooler to the site. Curved in all the right places, and slender everywhere else, she even made her shapeless hoodie and blue jeans look like a model was wearing them.

There were loud greetings, backslaps, and several beer cans cracked open as everyone got down to the serious business of relaxing—namely, drinking until they could barely see. Joe had rejoined the group near the fire and caught George’s steady gaze. He shook his head and shrugged, and that was when he heard the words.

“Fire’s getting low.” Brandy rose gracefully from her cross-legged position on a blanket. “I’m gonna get more wood. Who wants to come with me?”

The others muttered excuses, and with a start Joe realized he was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet. “I—I’ll go.” He scrambled to his feet, trying to avoid tripping or stumbling. As he rose, he saw George wipe a smile off his face and realized what was going on.

Son of a bitch—he set the whole thing up, Joe thought. He tore his gaze away from his roommate only to find himself staring at Brandy, who was looking at him with her round, blue eyes, a faint crease between her eyebrows indicating her puzzlement.

“You ready?” Her lush, full-lipped grin was impish, and at that moment Joe couldn’t have cared less if this whole thing had been set up, or it she had been a prostitute instead of one of the smartest minds at MIT. If she wanted to get with him, who was he to refuse?

He smiled back. “Absolutely.”

“Hey sport, catch.” Joe turned just in time to put his hands up and grab the flashlight Sanjay had tossed to him.

“Don’t get lost out there. Stay within sight of the fire,” Sam said as he stirred the blaze with a stick.

“Yes, Mom,” Brandy replied, cracking up the rest of the group. “Come on, Joe.”

Walking beside her, Joe and Brandy left the warm circle of light and entered the forest proper. Joe felt the four pairs of eyes on his back as they left. Moving his finger back behind him, he flipped them all off, making the four howl with laughter again.

Brandy glanced behind them, and Joe quickly turned his bird into scratching an itch. “What was that about?”

“I’m sure George told a joke or something.” Joe looked around as they proceeded deeper into the woods. Birch, ash and oak trees towered over them, mixed with pine and fir, which lent the night a clean, woodsy scent. He was a city boy through and through, but tried not to show his nervousness about being here. His only other experiences with nature had been the science camps his parents had packed him off to every summer. Even then, he’d spent more time indoors doing experiments than the normal things like swimming and fishing that boys did at that age.

Alone with Brandy, Joe was even more tongue-tied than at the campsite. She didn’t seem to mind, strolling along like she didn’t have a care in the world. Finally, he came up with, “So, how’s your research coming?”

She turned to him and smiled, her teeth gleaming in the moonlight. “I could bore you to tears with a ten-minute dissertation on the movement of wave particles in the sixth dimension, but I don’t think that’s why we’re here.”

She kept staring at him, making Joe’s earlier bravado slip away. “Look, I know George arranged this, but I’ll understand if you just want to get the firewood and head back—”

Brandy turned to him, and Joe suddenly felt pressure on the back of his head, and before he could wonder why he was leaning forward, she brought his mouth to hers and kissed him hungrily. Joe put his arms around her slim waist and held her, partly to keep from falling over with surprise, and partly just to get his hands on her. The kiss itself was everything he’d ever fantasized about, and then some. When they parted, he sucked in a breath and just stared at her.

“Joe, who do you think gave him the idea?” She smiled again and pulled away from him. “Come on.”

They ran deeper into the woods, finding a narrow path that twisted and turned in the moonlight. When they were both sure they’d be safe from any curious eyes, Brandy stopped and turned to him. “You’re the reason I came on this trip, you know.”

“Me? Why?”

She smiled that dazzling smile again. “I wanted to get to know you better.”

Between the beer—Joe was a relative lightweight in the drinking category—his hormones and the light-headedness from her kiss, he could barely keep up. “Uh, yeah, you hardly know me now.”

“Well, what better place to change that?” She walked toward him, and Joe raised his hand as he was about to answer her—or say something—but his mouth stopped working as his fingers encountered her firm breast first. Joe froze, mortified, but Brandy unzipped her hoodie and moved his hand inside to cup her warm flesh through her T-shirt.

“That’s a good start. Here…” She turned off the flashlight and stuck it in his back pocket. “It’s always more fun in the dark.”

Joe could scarcely believe this was happening. His other arm curled around her, and he brought her close for a longer kiss. She was warm and willing, molding herself to him, her sweet-tasting mouth open and tongue and exploring. Her hand stole down to the front of his jeans, which were unmistakably bulging.

Even if George did set this up, it would still be worth it, Joe pondered, all other coherent thoughts fleeing as he lost himself in her touch and taste. He also lost track of time. It could have been minutes or hours, but the next thing he was aware of was being jerked back and squinting as an intense light was shone in his face. Joe tried to put an arm up to shield his vision, but it was grabbed and twisted behind his back and up between his shoulder blades.

“What the—ow! Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, blinking fast to try to adjust his vision.

Brandy was also protesting what was going on, and Joe heard, “Get your hands off me, fuckwad—” followed by what sounded like a slap, and her voice fell silent.

“Hey, look, just tell us what the problem is here.” Joe’s tearing eyes were finally adjusting to the glare, and he could see five figures beyond the spotlight. Next to him, Brandy had a hand to her bruised and cut lip. He bent over to look at her, but her answering glance wasn’t scared or surprised—she looked furious.

“The only problem is that you two are in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The light was suddenly taken away, and Joe got his first look at the intruders.

The group was unlike anyone he had ever seen. Four men and one woman were all dressed in green, brown and black camouflage fatigues, complete with nylon straps and harnesses crisscrossing their chests and around their waists. Camo face paint covered their cheeks and forehead, giving them an unnerving appearance with their white eyes staring out of a swath of black or green. Each had what looked like night vision goggles pushed up on their heads. They were all armed, too, with the biggest guns Joe had ever seen. With a start, he realized they were Heckler & Koch submachine guns like counterterrorist teams used. Before a few seconds ago, he’d only seen them in the movies.

“Uh, okay, guys, what is this—did we stumble on some kind of Army training exercise or something?”

His question didn’t bring the desired response. Instead of an answer, the men and woman all looked around and laughed quietly. One of them turned his head and spit on the ground.

“We’re about the farthest thing from Army pigs you’ll ever see.”

Brandy moved closer to Joe, her hand stealing into his. He felt it tremble, and he gave what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “Okay, look, obviously we went a little too far down the path, so we’ll just head back to our campsite and let you go on your way—”

“Campsite? What campsite? Where?” one of them asked.

“That’s not important—look, we should just be going—” Joe pulled Brandy with him as he tried to turn and go back the way they had come.

The group reacted instantly. Two of them moved to cut the pair off from the path, while the woman grabbed Brandy’s hand and twisted it free of Joe’s.

“Ow—let go, bitch!” Brandy’s arm came up in a roundhouse swing that cuffed her attacker on the side of the head. The blow didn’t even stagger her, and the woman glared at Brandy with venom in her eyes.

“That’s it.” In one fluid movement, she drew the pistol on her hip and aimed it at Brandy’s head. “This whore dies now—”

“Stand down, Zeta!” the group leader ordered. “No unsilenced shots, remember?”

The woman’s lip curled in a snarl, then she raised the pistol and brought it down in a savage blow to Brandy’s cheek. The butt of the gun split her skin, making the young woman fall with a scream.

“Hey, what the fuck!” Joe crouched next to Brandy and put his arm around her. He felt the flashlight in his back pocket press into his butt, and thought about using it as a weapon, but dismissed the idea—they’d cut him down before he even got close. “Hey, you all right?”

She looked up at him with unfocused eyes filled with fear. Her once-high, proud cheekbone was gashed to what looked like the bone, bleeding profusely as it started to swell. “Joe,” she whispered, “they—they’re gonna kill us!”

“You may be right,” he whispered. “Just follow my lead, and be ready to run.” Joe brought her up with him as he stood again. “Look, we don’t know who you are or why you’re here, and we don’t care. Just—just let us go, and we won’t say a word to anyone, I swear. Hell, we’ll pack up right now and head home. You’ll never see us again.”

The group leader grinned without a hint of mirth, making Joe’s heart sink. “I wish I could believe that. Hell, if it were up to me, I’d probably let you skedaddle, since it isn’t gonna matter one way or the other in a few days anyway.” Again, Joe was surrounded by those quiet, ominous chuckles as the man slowly shook his head. “But it isn’t up to me. We have our orders, and we’re gonna carry them out.”

“No!” Brandy broke from Joe’s side and launched herself at the woman, hands outstretched to claw at her face.

“Brandy!” Joe could only watch helplessly as the woman intercepted her with a feral smile. She raised her left hand to sweep Brandy’s arms away from her face and brought her right hand around from behind her back, shoving it out at the other woman’s abdomen.

Brandy stopped as though she had run into a wall. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out as she slowly looked down at herself.

“I hope that felt as good to you as it did to me.” The woman called Zeta did something Joe couldn’t see, but it made Brandy’s entire body convulse. She then lifted the frozen girl’s face up and kissed her open mouth. “Mmm—I never tasted the last breath of anyone before. Kinda sweet.”

“Damn, Zeta, that’s cold,” a tall, skinny man muttered.

“What. Delta said no shots fired. I’m just following orders.” The woman took her hand away and stepped back. Brandy turned to Joe, hands clutching her middle, and he saw her waist and legs were dark and wet.

“Oh my God—Brandy! Brandy! What the fuck—” Joe grabbed her as she staggered and fell, easing her to the ground and placing her on her back. As he did, he moved her hands aside and saw a gush of blood well from the wound in her stomach. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“I stabbed an uppity bitch, that’s what I did.” Zeta knelt next to him and wiped her bloody blade on Brandy’s jeans. “She’ll bleed out in a day or two, and be in the most unimaginable agony the whole time. It’d be better if you let one of them put a bullet in her brain.”

“Joe…please don’t…please don’t leave me.” Brandy’s eyes were huge white pools of terror. She shook again, grabbing his jacket with bloody hands. “I’m cold—so cold.”

“Oh, fuck this.” Before Joe could do anything, Zeta reached out and drew her blade across the wounded girl’s throat. More blood gushed out, and she made horrible choking noises as she died in Joe’s arms.

The woman cleaned her blade off again and stood. “Trust me, you should really be thanking me—”

Joe saw red. A howl of fury burst from his throat, and he lunged into the woman, knocking her off balance and sending her tumbling into the men behind her. Whirling, he rushed at the two blocking the path, catching them both by surprise. As they scrambled to bring up their weapons, Joe drew the flashlight from his back pocket and swung it at the nearest man’s head, the plastic housing making a satisfying thunk as it connected with his skull. The man staggered under the blow, and Joe shoved him into his partner as he took off into the woods, hearing urgent orders behind him.

“No open shooting!”

“Stop him!”

“Sigma, Theta, go! Execute scorched earth!”

Joe ran like the Devil himself was behind him, stumbling along the path leading through the dark forest. The trail, which had seemed wide and clear earlier, was now a twisting, narrow ribbon of dirt under his feet. Branches clutched at his arms and clothing, and an exposed root caught his foot and made him hit the ground and bite his tongue. Tasting blood, he spit it out as he leaped to his feet and kept going, limping now on a twisted ankle. He tried to look around to see if the camouflaged crazies were chasing him or what, but all he saw was black forest, trees trunks rising everywhere like a huge fence, their branches looking like skeletal fingers reaching for him.

Joe knew they couldn’t have gone more than a half mile at the most, but his journey back seemed to be a marathon. Every time he thought he’d round one more turn and find the clearing and campsite, he only saw more dark trail. At last, however, he saw the welcoming glow of the fire. Trying to shout, but too winded to do anything more than wheeze, Joe staggered out of the woods toward the laughing and drinking group, which hadn’t noticed him yet.

George was the first to spot him lurching from the darkness. “Hey, the prodigal architect returns! Hey, buddy, you all right?”

Joe nearly fell as he tried to reach his roommate, going down to one knee as he fought for breath. He held out his hands, still sticky with Brandy’s blood. “Help—please—”

“What the fuck happened, Joe?” George held him up as the rest of the group clustered around, their questions flying.

“Did you guys have an accident?”

“Is Brandy injured?”

“Where is she?”

Joe labored to talk in between breaths. “She’s…she’s dead, and we’re next…killers…in the forest…coming after me—”

“What the hell are you talking about, Joe? And where the hell’s Brandy?”

Joe grabbed George’s down vest and pulled him close. “She’s dead, goddamnit! And we’re next if we don’t get outta here right fucking now!”

“Holy shit, you’re serious, aren’t you—” George had straightened and was looking around when Joe heard a strange noise, like cloth tearing. He looked up to see George staring at him with unfocused eyes, a small hole in his forehead leaking a trickle of red down his face. His roommate fell backward onto the fire, making Sandra scream as his body started burning.