Extreme Arsenal. Don Pendleton
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“Gary…”
“If we miss, that’s it,” Manning admonished. The enemy gunship stabilized for one moment and pointed straight at them. The initial machine-gun bursts slammed into the earth on either side of the Stony Man commandos.
“And we’re in their blind spot,” Manning added. He pulled the trigger on the X-26 Taser. The little pocket-size unit cut loose with its charge, and the rocket motor fired to life. The 77 mm warhead leaped out of its tube and speared through the bulbous head of the gunship, lancing it like a soap bubble filled with napalm. The shock wave bowled over James and Manning, flaming wreckage fluttering down in a burning snow that ignited patches of the Phoenix Force warriors’ suits.
The hot licks of flame jolted the two stunned Stony Man fighters and forced them to roll to put out the burning tongues that flared on their clothes.
Their immediate emergency over, James and Manning surveyed the area. Others in the courtyard had been hiding behind stone walls and marble tables, and those who had been injured were being tended to by fellow employees.
“Come on,” James said, helping Manning to his feet. “You got enough left to deal with a marauding force of ninja killers?”
“I guess I’ll have to.”
The Canadian pulled his sleek Desert Eagle and followed the black commando into the Computer Center.
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