China Crisis. Don Pendleton

list and forward it as an attachment to an e-mail he sent to Chomski. He received an acknowledgment within a minute and knew that his second in command would be checking the list and working on ways to obtain the goods.

      Townsend returned to find Han, informing him that urgent attention was being given to the list and he would have an answer within a short time. Han nodded, content, and invited Townsend on a tour of the house and grounds.

      Two hours later Townsend had a call from Chomski, guaranteeing they could fill the order. Townsend informed Han, confident that if Chomski said yes they were in business.

      “Excellent, Mr. Townsend. I hope you will dine with me this evening before you return to the U.S.A.”

      “My pleasure, Director. Then I must leave. I have a lot to arrange.”

      Townsend was back at his hotel by nine that night. He retired early and by midmorning the following day was settling in his seat on the plane that would take him to the States.

       That had been six months ago…

       Longhorn Bar, Landry Flats, South Texas Border Country

      T. J. H AWKINS CAUGHT a glimpse of Carl Lyons as the Able Team leader paused in the doorway, scanning the bar’s interior. The moment he spotted Hawkins, Lyons made directly for him, coming to a halt at the table.

      “You think I don’t have anything better to do than chase all over the damn place? I told you once before, Hawkins, nobody skips on me.”

      Hawkins carried on drinking, aware of every eye in the place focused on his table.

      “Playing dumb isn’t going to buy you a ticket home.”

      This time Hawkins sat upright, leaning against the rear of the booth. He faced Lyons.

      “And am I supposed to be worried? What are you going to do, rooster? Crow loud enough so everyone can hear? All I’m doing is having a quiet drink. There’s no law against that. I haven’t broken any rules, so back off, Jenks. I’m not in the fuckin’ Army no more. I don’t have to listen to you.”

      “Listen, asshole, we had a deal. It’s time to settle.”

      Hawkins shook his head. “Deal’s off. You didn’t come through on your end. Or have you forgotten that?”

      Lyons reached out and caught hold of Hawkins’s coat, hauling him upright. He swung the younger man around, slamming him against the wall, then pinned him there with one big hand.

      “You could die right here, Hawkins.”

      “Then are you going to shoot all these witnesses? I don’t think even you could cover that up, Jenks.”

      “Maybe I’ll risk it. Be worth the sight of you with your guts spread over this floor. I don’t like people going back on a deal.”

      “Yeah, right. Jenks, you screwed up. You lost the merchandise and now you expect me to bail you out. Open your eyes, pal. It don’t work that way. We both know you’re trying to put the squeeze on because your boss is going to be pissed at you.” Hawkins slapped Lyons’s hands from his chest, then stiff-armed him away, pushing the man across the floor. “Go tell him what happened. Get the hell off my back. It’s not my problem. Now fuck off before I find my gun and put you down.”

      Lyons made a show of bluster, but eventually backed away. He jabbed a finger at Hawkins.

      “You and me got this to settle. This isn’t over, Hawkins.” He stared around the bar, face taut with anger.

      “Jenks, this is finished.”

      Lyons backed off a step, refusing to meet Hawkins’s eye. After a moment he spun around, glaring at the rest of the bar’s customers.

      “Seen enough, you assholes? Get back to your bottles, losers.”

      He turned and barged his way out of the bar, slamming the door behind him. A long silence ensued until a single voice broke it.

      “Still bucking the odds, T.J.?”

      Hawkins turned and watched as Vic Lerner moved away from his stool at the bar and crossed the room. He peered at Lerner, pretending he wasn’t certain he recognized the man.

      “Vic? Where in hell did you spring from, buddy?”

      “I was here awhile. Didn’t pay much attention until you made your little stand against the bully boy.” Lerner threw out a hand and slapped Hawkins on the shoulder. “Hell, T.J., how long has it been?”

      “Too damn long. Hey, where’s the uniform?”

      “I dumped that a while back. Had my belly full of being ordered around.”

      “Yeah, I been there, done that.”

      “I haven’t forgotten. Man, they really did the dirty on you in Somalia.”

      Hawkins shrugged. “The system always gets you in the end. Let me buy you a drink, Vic.”

      Lerner had already turned, gesturing to the bartender. He had quickly sized up Hawkins’s shabby appearance, figuring his former Army buddy wasn’t exactly walking around with too much in his pockets. When he returned with a couple of beers, Hawkins had taken his seat again. Lerner placed the chilled bottles on the table, pushing one across to Hawkins.

      “Here’s to when we did have some good times, T.J.”

      Hawkins lifted the bottle and drank. He brushed at his creased shirt. “Seems you caught me on an off day, Vic. I need to do my laundry.”

      “Got to admit I’ve seen you looking better in the middle of a firefight, T.J.”

      Hawkins gave a vague shrug, reaching for his glass again. “To better days.”

      “So what happened after you left the service?”

      “Things kind of went on a downward spiral. What the hell, Vic, I was trained as a damned soldier, not a brush salesman. Tried different things but nothing lasted. Money was scarce. I wasn’t pulling much in, so I started looking around for anything where I could put my training to use. You know what? Ain’t much there. Almost hooked up with a mercenary group going to Africa. Missed the boat there, too. Funny, I heard a month later the whole crew were wiped out by some local militia. So I guess my luck stayed with me that day.”

      “And now?”

      “I scratch around. Do a little social drinking, if you know what I mean. But I’m not eating too high off the hog, and that old pickup outside on the lot is the best I can afford right now.”

      “What you working on now?”

      “Now? Right now I’m drinking with an old Army buddy who looks like he won first prize.”

      Lerner smiled. “Can’t complain.” He hesitated for a moment. “T.J., you up for a job?”

      Hawkins toyed with his glass. “Is it legal?”

      Lerner laughed. “Does it make a difference?”

      “Hell, no. That deal I had with that jerk who was here wasn’t exactly tax deductible. Anything that kicks the honest and upright’s ass is just what I need. Walking the line didn’t do me any good. I did the right thing and the Army booted me out. Honorable discharge—that was their way of getting rid of me.”

      “How about we get out of here? Let me buy you a decent meal and make a call. Could be I can find you a place with the people I work with. Hell, T.J., you got the credentials we’re looking for.”

      “Sounds good to me.”

      Lerner led the way out of the bar. His vehicle was parked at the edge of the lot. A dark metallic-gray Blazer.

      “Cool-looking truck,” Hawkins said.

      “What about yours?”

      Hawkins grinned. He pointed across the lot to a battered and sad-looking