Deadly Payload. Don Pendleton

wet leaves under boots. His throat tightened as he looked up to see Carl Lyons standing over him. He held a 9 mm pistol by the barrel, handle presented for the Thai.

      Tso reached up, swallowing. His fingers wrapped around the grip. He turned it over, and there was no magazine in place.

      “You’ve got one shot,” Lyons told him. “Use it wisely. We won’t give you another.”

      Tso nodded. “My people will tear you apart.”

      The ENT commander tilted the barrel of the pistol between his lips and pulled the trigger, getting the hell out of Panama.