room, second floor,” he stammered, jerking his head. “Just take the stairs.”
“You lead the way.”
The gunner looked at the stairs in fear. “No, please, my leg…I can’t walk.”
“Get up,” Bolan ordered, “or die where you are. It makes no difference to me.”
“Okay, okay,” the gunner said, standing easily.
“Up the stairs,” Bolan ordered.
“Please. I only—”
“Move!”
“Jesus, okay already, they’re a trap! Rigged to blow!”
Bolan stepped closer. “Yes, I know.”
He did? Shit. “There’s another set of stairs,” the man said, looking around nervously. “The one the staff uses, ya know.”
“You’re still leading the way,” Bolan said, both weapons held in rock-steady hands. “Get moving.”
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