Silent Running

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“How’s the Man handling this?” Brognola asked.

“He’s got everyone in uniform he can get on it,” Bolan reported, “and they’re starting to contain the intrusions. The damage to the border towns and southern Florida is running in the millions, but it’s not spreading as fast as it was. For one thing, the citizens are taking this as a foreign invasion and armed home defense is a real popular topic right now. Neighborhood militia units are being sworn in to back up the police forces.

“If you’re ready to go,” Bolan went on, “let’s do it. It’s going to take a couple of hours for us to work our way back out to the PZ.”

“Hold on, Striker,” Brognola growled. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

Bolan had pretty much expected this response from his old friend and comrade-in-arms. Brognola had never been one to run from a fight no matter the odds. However, he had specific orders from the President of the United States. Brognola’s input was sorely needed in this current crisis, and his orders were to get him back to Stony Man Farm ASAP.

“Hal, the Man told me in no uncertain terms that he wants you back at the Farm immediately to help him with this.”

“The President’s a good man,” Brognola said, grinning, “and I know that he only has my best interests at heart, but the hell with him. I’ve got work to do here. That bastard Garcia’s going down big-time.”