Black Death Reprise
A gentle breeze passing through the vineyard from the Pyrenees turned the leaves on their stems, making them appear to be waving to the man who glided silently through their tethered rows. The soothing rustle as they stirred on warm air currents, exposing undersides that shimmered a silvery-gray in the moonlight, was the only sound reaching Mack Bolan's ears as he trod silently across the fertile fields that for more than eight hundred years had been producing wine for the St. Rafael Monastery north of Bayonne.Dressed entirely in black, with green and brown camouflage paint smeared on the high points of his face to flatten his features, Bolan's large frame was all but invisible against the inky French countryside.
On his hip, the ex-soldier wore a .44 Magnum Desert Eagle, while a holster on his left shoulder held a Beretta 93-R loaded with a 20-round clip of 9 mm Parabellum ammunition. A foot-long Fairbairn-Sykes combat knife, honed to a razor's edge, rested in a weathered black leather sheath strapped to the outside of his right calf.
Bolan was approaching the monastery from the south because slipping into Spain at San Sebastian and traveling by car through the ... read full excerpt from Black Death Reprise ebook
