Nightmare Army

“Roger that, Striker,” Tokaido replied. “What is your position?”

By the time the hacker finished replying, Bolan was at the rear corner of the empty house. As he knew from the overhead view, the road cornered at the fence and followed the perimeter. “Ten meters away.”

“All right...bringing security camera online...”

Bolan divided his attention between the two guards who had paused by the gate and the steadily lightening eastern sky. “Let’s go, Akira, the sun isn’t going to stop rising.”

“Just making sure the inside is clear. Won’t help much if you drop down into the arms of a couple goons, now, would it? Okay, go on my mark... Three, two, one, mark.”

Still mindful of the two guards, Bolan stepped out from cover and walked casually across the street to the corner of the fence, slightly stooped over, even muffling a yawn. Just another early riser heading to work. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw one of the guards look in his direction, but he didn’t turn or quicken his pace in any way as he reached the stone wall.

The second he was around the corner and out of view, Bolan leaped for the top of the fence, grabbing the rough stone with his gloved hands. Pulling himself up, he threw a leg over, grabbed the row of iron spikes and held there for a few seconds while scoping the inside. True to Tokaido’s word, the immaculate lawn was deserted, with the villa increasingly lit from behind as the sun kept rising. Bolan gave it another five count, then climbed over the spikes and jumped to the ground, staying in the shadows formed by the inside wall corner. The area here was calm, with no breeze.

“I’m on the grounds,” Bolan reported. “Keep that camera looped for another minute. I’ll contact once I’m inside the building.”

“Roger that.”

Drawing an odd weapon that looked like a small paint gun, Bolan removed a plastic vial from a waist pouch and screwed it on to the receiver just ahead of the trigger. Taking his SIG-Sauer in his right hand, he checked right and left one last time, then started down the wall on his left, wanting to be sure he was out of sight of the gate guards before entering the main building.

He had only taken a few steps when two black-brown shapes trotted around the corner. Upon seeing him, the two Doberman-Rottweiler mixes didn’t snarl or bark, just accelerated into a silent run, muscular legs churning the grass as they sped toward their target.

Waiting until they were only a few steps away, Bolan squeezed the trigger of the strange pistol in his left hand twice. The gun spit a fine mist into the dogs’ path as they leaped at him. The second they jumped, Bolan dropped to the ground and rolled out of their path. After two turns, he rolled onto his back, brought the real pistol up and aimed at the dogs behind him.

Deprived of their target, the dogs landed on the ground and turned to come at him again. However they weren’t moving as quickly as before; in fact, both dogs stumbled as they tried to charge at him and ended up sinking back to the ground, whining in confusion as they struggled to get back on their feet. Within a few seconds, both dogs were out cold.

Bolan got up, careful to stay several feet away from the dissipating cloud of a fast-acting, powerful tranquilizer. With a silenced pistol not all that silent, and dart guns, blowguns or crossbows only able to shoot one projectile at a time, John “Cowboy” Kissinger, Stony Man Farm’s chief armorer, had come up with the best way to silently eliminate multiple guard animals with minimal risk of injury to the defender. The spray pistol had been extensively tested, and other than wind dispersal, performed excellently in the field.