Death in the Air (Dirty Harry, Book 11)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The Magnum-powered action doesn't stop for Dirty Harry, not even on Christmas Eve. Now Harry's after a killer who celebrates the holiday season by shoving women beneath the wheels of speeding subway trains. But when he unmasks the killer as a hit-man for a renegade government scientist, Harry himself is marked for death. With the most powerful handgun ever made in his hands, Harry must blow that scientist to kingdom come or never live to see the New Year himself.
the platform were several people who fainted from shock, others who couldn’t take their eyes off the blood-flecked base of the BART, and one who surveyed the scene with a warped enjoyment. It had started off badly. He hadn’t meant to push the pretty blond girl at all. He had initially targeted a plain, mousey, brown-haired student who clutched her books and flute case to her chest as if they would have run away if she had loosened her grip. But, in the ever-undulating throng of chattering
machine pistol only for those interested in doing serious damage. The two men rolled around the floor between the destroyed couch and the devastated television set, with the masked attacker trying to burst Harry’s eardrums with screams and to disembowel him with kicks. Neither man could get his gun within hitting range. Harry may not have had fire power or savagery on his side, but he did have experience, size, and weight. He was able to hurl the attacker off him. The man nimbly somersaulted
C H A P T E R T w e l v e Harry had no problem finding them. His problem was what to do once he did. The search was quick and vicious. Harry had glimpsed the car number stenciled on the side as the vehicle pulled away from the van wreck. He had determination on his side, and an encyclopedic knowledge of the San Francisco streets. Like a veteran taxi driver, he knew which roads would be congested, which streets were one-way, and which thoroughfares were clear. If the assassins got on
battered body, admiring the aged scars that revealed the trials of his career up till now. “Big, tough guy,” the super scolded. “Think you’re really something, don’t you? Well, let’s see how long it takes me to make you nothing.” Then he started in. The first part was simple. Taking a reed cane, he whipped the cop. It was a scene out of a childhood melodrama come to painful life. Harry remembered his school days when the teacher would take a hickory stick to someone’s backside or a ruler to
by a mile, but it killed him anyway. The lead tore through the ropes connecting Harry’s wrists to the overhead support beam. Callahan came down, his feet held his weight, he threw himself to the side, twisted, and brought down his arms on either side of the super’s head. Then, it was only a matter of putting his knee in the middle of the man’s back, and pulling. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The super’s neck stopped where the coarse, thin rope joined Harry’s hands.