Extreme Arsenal. Don Pendleton

pulled his Impact Kerambit wrench from its sheath and chopped its reinforced fiberglass point between the seams that formed the end of the drum. He twisted hard and broke off the tip, but pried apart the metal enough for him to fit his powerful hands in. The Canadian’s massive shoulders swelled as he wrenched the metal pod open, his face beet-red from the effort.

      James tried to ignore his friend’s display of nearly superhuman strength, but even with a deadly gunship spraying lethal streams of fire overhead, it was a sight to behold. The drum popped open and armored tubes were visible inside. Manning swallowed hard, breathing deeply, then planted one foot against a tube and wrapped both of his paws around another. “I need your Taser, Cal.”

      The tall ex-SEAL nodded. “Think it’s got enough of a charge to set that off?”

      “It should. These things don’t need that much voltage to fire.” Manning grunted as he flexed against the tube. Metal crumpled and wrenched as the brawny Canadian hauled on the rocket tube. He’d freed one end, levering it out of the pod when James tackled him to the ground. A heartbeat later a thunderstorm of bullets hammered into the ground, destroying what was left of the tree stump. Dirt and wood chunks rained on the prone Stony Man commandos.

      “Thanks,” Manning replied, breathing hard.

      “Anytime,” James answered. “You’re going to end up with a hernia.”

      “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” the Canadian replied as he returned to the rocket pod. It had been left untouched by the stream of lead that nearly chopped the Stony Man warriors to pieces. Manning braced himself again before the pilot could swing the helicopter around.

      “He’s not shooting the other rocket pod,” James noted. “He must not want to hit his own people inside the Computer Center.”

      Twisting steel shrieked as Manning ripped the rocket tube free.

      “It’s loaded,” he said softly, exhaustion having crept into his voice. James knew Manning possessed prodigious endurance, regularly running in marathons and engaging in weight-lifting contests with Carl Lyons, Able Team’s muscular commander. For him to show weariness meant that he’d tapped reserves of strength that the Phoenix Force demolitions expert had rarely touched. “Fire off your Taser, Cal.”

      James nodded and fired the X-26 point-blank into the dirt. The launching probes shot out, but he released the trigger, preventing the battery’s capacitor charge from draining. Manning grabbed the probes and hooked them up to the wire leads at the base of the rocket pod.

      James slid his slender but strong frame under the tube and shouldered it. “You aim.”

      Manning nodded as he wrapped the wire leads around the electrical probes at the tip. He stepped clear of the back of the rocket tube, sighting along the top of the bore as the black ex-SEAL grunted under the weight of the armored cylinder and its explosive payload. The wobbly helicopter saw what the two Phoenix Force warriors were doing and struggled to come level with them, its machine gun muzzles swiveling onto the pair.

      “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.