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  The Desert Eagle spoke once, driving Flyright’s eviscerated body to the floor. There would be no coming back from such a devastating wound.

  Bolan picked up Flyright’s radio. “Anyone still alive, go home. The guy who signs your paycheck is dead.”

  There were a couple of clicks, bursts of static. In the distance, on the other side end of the corridor, doors slammed.

  The Executioner stood alone with a fallen god of hatred, a large number of his mercenaries slaughtered. Maybe this would give Mobile room to continue its march toward justice and peace.

  Epilogue

  After a day of rest, the Executioner started to feel that he was on the way to gaining his full strength. He wasn’t alone in his motel bed as Dr. Annis Hassan was definitely a hands-on physician. She massaged his chest hair with her index finger, the nail gently caressing his skin in a spiral. She was warm and so welcome abutted to his form.

  “I never asked you, but what am I supposed to do with the million dollars you donated to Foster Portman?” she asked. “I’m not sure how I should spend it. You should have kept it.”

  “Let’s just say that Morris Flyright doesn’t need it anymore, and I don’t need it, either. I’d rather the cash go somewhere that it can help people. It can be a help to make amends for what he’s done.”

  Hassan rested her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’d just give it away.”

  “My needs are simple.”

  “Giving away money,” Hassan mused.

  “Investing it in a better tomorrow. Healthy mothers with support programs that keep them from being kicked onto the street,” Bolan said. “The best thing about money is that it has the power to help people, to provide solutions to problems.”

  “More people should have that attitude. Are you sure you have to leave so soon?” Hassan asked. “I don’t want you to. And not because you’ve suddenly become the best sugar daddy on the Gulf Coast.”

  “I have things to do.”

  “Need a partner?” Hassan asked. “A doctor with experience in Afghanistan?”

  “Sherlock Holmes I’m not,” Bolan said lightly. “You have responsibilities. I have them, too.”

  He pulled her close.

  Some people might think that these moments of intimacy were a small thing, but they soothed his aches and losses. He’d have to leave soon enough, but until that moment came, it was time to live and celebrate life.

  * * *

  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Douglas P. Wojtowicz for his contribution to this work.

  ISBN: 9781488069116

  Righteous Fear

  Copyright © 2020 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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