still when they needed to be. Mack Bolan was a master, and now he waited to see if the noise of his covert insertion had alerted anyone else. The access door he had used to gain entry to the District of Columbia courthouse had been guarded from without as well as by the sentry he had just removed, but the terrorists were expecting a SWAT incursion or some other force to attack en masse. They weren’t prepared for a single man, because in their minds one armed man wasn’t a threat.
They were wrong.
Bolan carried his standard complement of weaponry over his combat blacksuit and attached to his web gear. His suppressed and custom-tuned Beretta 93-R machine pistol rode in the shoulder holster under his left arm; his .44 Magnum Desert Eagle pistol rode in his waistband behind his right hip, snug in a Kydex friction-fit scabbard. On his web gear, inverted for a fast draw, was a combat dagger with a tapered, rubber-coated handle and an upswept, razor-sharp blade. The knife was the length of Bolan’s forearm.
Across his chest he wore a canvas war bag bearing more munitions and combat items, while slung on his body in a single-point harness was a heavily modified M-4 carbine. The cut-down assault rifle bore red-dot optics, and an adapted M-203 grenade launcher was slung beneath its barrel. It was also capable of full-automatic fire, not just 3-round bursts, thanks to the tender ministrations of John “Cowboy” Kissinger, the Stony Man Farm’s armorer. Not for the first time it occurred to Bolan that, were he ever to cut ties with the Farm and the Sensitive Operations Group, he would genuinely miss the toys.
It was Hal Brognola, director of SOG, who had dispatched the Executioner on this mission. The call, scrambled through Bolan’s secure satellite-capable smartphone, held an edge of urgency that immediately triggered the soldier’s combat instincts.
“Striker,” Brognola had said, using Bolan’s code name, “our justice system is under attack.”
This was a sensitive point for the big Fed, for Brognola operated under the auspices of the Justice Department. Bolan knew his old friend would take very seriously any threat to the system he and the counterterror operatives of Stony Man Farm worked so hard to protect.
“I’m listening, Hal,” Bolan had said.
“Klaus Reinhardt Nitzche,” Brognola said, practically spitting each word. “Heard of him?”
“That’s the old Nazi concentration camp guard they just caught in Buenos Aires, isn’t it?”
“Nitzche was more than just a guard,” Brognola said. “He was the provisional camp commander of Schlechterwald, one of the more obscure but vile death camps established in the waning days of World War II. According to records recovered after the camp’s liberation, Nitzche assassinated the camp’s SS leader and assumed his place because Nitzche believed the SS was too soft on the prisoners. He remained in place until Hitler’s suicide, disappearing sometime during the chaos surrounding the end of the war and the collapse of Nazi Germany.”
“Sounds like a beautiful human being.”
“He was a monster,” Brognola said. “Rumor has it that he kept a very detailed diary, some pages of which he copied into the camp’s logs. Those logs, recovered by American forces who assaulted the camp, detail atrocities you cannot imagine, Striker.”
Bolan said nothing to that. He had seen plenty of atrocities in his endless war. He doubted there was much a human being could do to violate another that he hadn’t encountered, but the Nazis had proved extremely imaginative on that score.
“Do you recall,” Brognola said, “the Holocaust remembrance program broadcast nationally last fall?”
“I don’t get to watch a lot of television,” Bolan said.
“The program was notable,” the Fed explained, “because it featured a recorded interview with Eli Berwald. Berwald was a youth when he and his parents were imprisoned and tortured in Schlechterwald.”
“He’d have to be…”
“He’s pushing eighty,” Brognola said, “and not in the best of health. But his mind is strong, as is his passion for revenge. He said as much in the interview, which was taped only weeks before Berwald’s organization, Lantern, brought the eighty-eight-year-old Nitzche kicking and screaming from Argentina.”
“They extracted him?” Bolan asked.
“They kidnapped him,” Brognola said. “Once they had him in the U.S., their legal team jumped through a bunch of hoops. I won’t bore you with all the bureaucratic maneuvers involved. Suffice it to say they eventually had Nitzche processed through our legal system and charged with war crimes. The trial, a real televised circus, was to start today. It was going to be a message, a final blow to the last bastions of World War II. To war criminals, should any be alive and lurking out there today. Lantern has issued several press releases to that effect. Justice Has a Long Memory is their slogan.”
“They have a lot of pull for lobbyists.”
“Lantern is not simply a Jewish activist group,” Brognola said. “It borders on a vigilante organization. They are extremely militant and completely unapologetic about their activities. Much more so in recent years than in the past, but there it is.”
“Can you blame them?” Bolan asked.
“No,” Brognola said. “But that doesn’t change the complications this raises.”
“Such as?”
“Berwald’s Lantern is led primarily by his son, Eli Berwald Jr., known as Aaron to his friends and family. The elder Berwald operates in an advisory capacity, but Aaron is a firebrand. He’s run afoul of weapons charges twice, although both times, strings have been pulled behind the scenes to get him off. His father has powerful friends within the government, as you might expect. Berwald Sr. is no stranger to the games we play here in Washington.”
“And?” Bolan prompted.
“Lantern paid a celebrity bounty hunter some outrageous fee to go into Argentina and kidnap Nitzche,” Brognola said. “You probably haven’t seen the guy’s reality-television program.”
“I can’t say I have.”
“Nitzche was almost killed during the illegal extradition,” Brognola said. “Several men were injured. The bounty hunter is now wanted in Argentina, which is irrelevant, but the fact that Nitzche was guarded by armed men is what makes this complicated. These men were members of a secretive neo-Nazi group called Heil Nitzche, which Klaus Nitzche has been operating under the radar since he went to ground in Buenos Aires all those years ago. I’ve had the team at the Farm digging through the records, now that we know what to look for. The pattern painted is alarming. Heil Nitzche has funding, they have equipment and they have balls. And as of half past eight this morning, they have an entire courthouse right here in Wonderland.”
“A terrorist assault,” Bolan said.
“Yes,” Brognola said. “Nitzche and his HN thugs have seized the building and taken the judge, the jury and the gallery hostage. They’ve got automatic weapons and, we believe, explosives. They’re demanding safe passage by helicopter out of D.C., and if they don’t get it by their deadline this afternoon, they’re going to start killing hostages. Several court security officers have already been killed.”
“Which is where I come in,” Bolan stated.
“Absolutely,”
