Blood Heat Zero

The raft was in the middle of a fleet of blue-and-white fishing boats, the bus was on its way back to the bridge at the head of the fjord and the helicopter after a couple of impotent passes over the ravine had flown back toward the pithead when the first spasm shivered the calm surface of the water.

A mushroom of smoke and dust bellied out from the cliff above the cave mouths, and a huge explosion rolled across the fjord. Before the reverberations of the blast had died away, it was followed by the rumbling roar of thousands of tons of rock collapsing into the water.

The boats rocked crazily as shock waves raced across the surface. One after the other, Bolan sensed rather than heard the muffled minor blasts that would wreck the installations of the secret base now sealed off forever behind the rockfall barring the entrance.

And then, silhouetted against the clear northern sky, the gantry carrying the pithead wheel folded inward and collapsed as a gigantic tongue of flame smashed through the elevator and the shaft erupted in thunderous fury.

When the last rumble had died away and the fishing boats had scattered to take a closer look at the landslide that had tumbled into their fjord, Bolan smiled wearily.

"At least they'll be safe for quite some time from Soviet submarines," he said.

Erika smiled at him, the wide mouth tempting. "And now?" she inquired. "I think you said you were on vacation? I'd be happy, very happy to act as your guide and point out some of the more... positive... pleasures of this country."

Regretfully, he shook his head. The past few days had made the point vacations were not for him. Not yet. Not while animal man ran wild.

"There will be other bases," he said. "Other submarines. Other fishermen who have the right to live their lives free of fear."

She nodded. There were tears in her eyes. Then she said, "Another time... maybe?"

"Maybe," the Executioner said.