Infiltration

“Simple,” Bolan said with a nod.

“You better learn something quick, Frankie,” Volkov replied. “There’s a big difference between simple and easy. The two aren’t the same. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure. I got it.”

“Keep in touch,” Volkov said as he tossed a high frequency radio on the seat next to Bolan. He and Southpaw then walked to the van and jumped in.

“All right, you reading me?” Volkov’s voice said a moment later.

“Reading you four-by-four,” Bolan replied.

“Let’s do this,” he said. “You lead us in and then park outside the gate, where you can make a break for it, if necessary. But you don’t move until we’re on board. ’Cause I promise that if you double-cross us, I’ll find you and kill you. You can be sure of that.”

Bolan decided not to reply, instead waving his hand so that Volkov understood he got the message. Fate had dealt him a decent hand on this one, making it possible for him to operate on his own. Now all he had to do was figure out what they had planned, then determine how to stop that plan and still keep anyone from getting in the line of fire. A full-blown fight on the grounds of a Catholic school would be completely unacceptable. He’d have to play this one very close to the vest.

Keeping his pace slow but steady, he approached the main entrance to the school. He’d obviously been right about the start time, because the place was absolutely packed with vehicles, some of them double-parked to drop off kids, while others rolled through the gate. The Executioner kept his eyes open for any running room, counting vehicles and spaces between them as the numbers ticked off in his head. A group of children traveled along the sidewalks, pressed Catholic uniforms gleaming in the morning sunlight as they proceeded toward their school. Others rode with their parents, a good number of vehicles ranging from BMWs to Mercedes to Bentleys, not to mention a gaggle of imports.

Whatever these guns-for-hire had planned, Bolan was almost positive this would amount to a grab. But of whom? Out of the few hundred, perhaps many hundred children that attended Saint Bartholomew’s, why would Godunov have ordered his mercenary team to target just one? Or perhaps two? Bolan’s best guess was that they needed these kids for leverage. Volkov had mentioned that Southpaw would be providing some sort of deception, that he would use his “very unique talents” to do that.