Blood of the Strangers (Dirty Harry, Book 10)
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Terrorists! Airports and public places are their stage. Civilians are their targets. The spread of chaos is their game. Now Dirty Harry wants to play — for keeps. On battlefields from Frisco to Beirut to El Salvador, in the company of a beautiful television newswoman, he leaves a trail of hot blood and bullets as he searches beyond the Libyan connection for the source of this savagery. Dirty Harry, breaking every law to get the criminals, making his law to fit the crime.
Pulitzer for news photography, threw himself down without the slightest regard for the fate of his equipment. Ellie remained standing, incredulous that one of her cameramen should have died before her eyes. She knew that she should duck or get out of the way or do something but she was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear, and there was the assailant looking right at her, his eyes gazing into hers with a strange intensity. He had come to a halt, only yards away, and for a moment it was as if he
the .38 was still grasped in his hand. He possessed fine reflexes, firing as he turned, instinctively gauging Harry’s location. Harry had anticipated this, and shifted his position just sufficiently so he was no longer in the line of fire. Just as he discharged his .44, several police officers and plainclothesmen had the suspect in range and began to open up on him. The .44 took him first, causing him to collapse with a gaping hole in his thigh. Still, with the .38 in his grip, he struggled to
serious than a knee injury. Other than this small group, no one else seemed to be aware of what was happening. Harry believed that it would only be a matter of minutes before Kayyim recovered enough to mount a full-scale search for him. Still facing the youth, he began to back away. The youth shouted at him again to halt, more vehemently this time, somewhat incredulous that Harry persisted in disobeying him. Now his companions brought their Kalashnikovs up and trained them on Harry. This
to happen.” Connelly was his usual imperturbable self. “Handle it,” he said and slipped away, intent on avoiding any embarrassing questions. Now additional officers moved to halt the invasion, forming a protective ring about the terminal. But Ellie Winston kept right on going. “Miss Winston, please,” one of them pleaded. “We can’t let anyone in there until the preliminary investigation is completed.” As he spoke, he did not realize that the cameras had turned on him and were in the process of
Magnum went off again, he was slapped back down, with his chest opened up and spewing blood onto the roadbed. For some moments, he tried groping his way up the hill as though this might help him. His fingernails—always so clean and well-manicured—filled with dirt as he did so. He clawed at the ground. Then he gave a deep rasping sound and expired. By then, Harry was well on his way down the slope. His San Salvador adventure was at an end. But he wasn’t through; he may have stopped Kayyim, but