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  “It is a wonder that they let me come to say goodbye,” Chan Taesun said.

  “Almost a miracle,” Bolan replied. “No blowback from the other night?”

  “You’ll be surprised to hear that I have been promoted,” she informed him, smiling almost shyly.

  “Hey, congrats. Could have been worse.”

  “Much worse. They made that clear.”

  She sat with Bolan near the gate from which his flight to San Francisco would depart in thirty minutes, if it flew on time. Around them, businessmen and tourists passed on errands of their own, oblivious.

  “I have been told that you will not return,” she said.

  “No great surprise,” Bolan replied. “I tend to stand the party on its head.”

  “I think that’s good, from time to time.”

  “Depends on who you ask. New job, to go with the promotion?”

  “Nothing I can talk about,” she said.

  “I get it.”

  “And yourself?”

  “I never get promoted,” Bolan said. “Just sent away.”

  “A lonely life.”

  “I can’t complain,” he said, “since I chose it myself.”

  “Perhaps, if there was family...”

  “There is, after a fashion.” Bolan thought of Stony Man Farm, Barbara Price and Hal Brognola, with the rest of the familiar crew. “It works for me, at least.”

  “And since we shall not meet again...”

  She left the sentence hanging and leaned in close to kiss him lightly on the lips—a bold display, considering the time and place. That done, she rose and said, “Goodbye, Matthew Cooper.”

  “Goodbye, Taesun.”

  A voice somewhere in space was calling the announcement for his flight as he watched her disappear into the swirling crowd. Rising, Mack Bolan grabbed his carryon and turned back toward his War Everlasting.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from FATAL PRESCRIPTION by Don Pendleton.

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  Check out this sneak preview of FATAL PRESCRIPTION by Don Pendleton!

  “What type of facility is this?” Bolan asked.

  “It is my understanding,” Inspector Dorao said, “that they did research on the effects of drugs.”

  Bolan looked around as they walked. “Kind of a remote place for an attack.”

  “Plus, a drug research company?” Grimaldi said, hunching his shoulders. “You’d figure terrorists would pick a more high profile target.”

  Dorao shrugged. “As I said, I look forward to hearing your impressions and comparing them with my own. Until then, I shall refrain from coloring your observations.” He continued up the steps to the front of the building. “The crime was discovered at four o’clock. A delivery boy came upon the scene, and saw the dead security guard. He summoned the police, and...”

  Dorao grabbed an elongated gold-colored handle. As the inspector pulled the door open, Bolan caught a glimpse of a bevy of people inside, some standing guard, while others in white crime scene uniforms meticulously photographed items and twirled fingerprint brushes. An ornate, futuristically designed desk sat about twenty feet from the entrance. As they got closer, Bolan saw a puddle of congealing blood on its flat surface.

  “The security man was seated there,” Dorao said. “He was shot in the face.” He held his forefinger to the spot between his eyebrows. “We found an ejected shell casing, from a 9 mm, about three meters away.” He pointed to the area in front of a section of metal detectors.

  Right between the eyes, Bolan thought. A head shot, most likely done with a split-second target acquisition. Whoever did this had good marksmanship skills.

  Dorao motioned them forward and they moved through the security gates, the alarms going off as each of them went through. Dorao’s eyebrows lifted as he regarded Bolan and Grimaldi.

  “May I assume that you have special permission to carry concealed weapons?”

  “We came right there from another assignment,” Bolan said. “There was concern that this might be the first of several attacks.”

  Dorao shook his head. “Let us hope not. But, your weapons are of little importance to me at this point.” He gestured toward the elevators. “There were two bodies in the elevator. Others in the security office. Come. I will show you the rest. Upstairs. Be warned. It is not pretty.

  Don’t miss FATAL PRESCRIPTION by Don Pendleton, available June 2017 wherever Gold Eagle® books and ebooks are sold.

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  Copyright © 2017 by Worldwide Library

  First edition March 2017

  ISBN-13: 9781460399156

  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Mike Newton for his contribution to this work.

  Omega Cult

  Copyright © 2017 by Worldwide Library

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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