He used his cigarette lighter to ignite the hair spray. A second later he had a small blowtorch, blasting a column of fire a foot long. He leaned over the plastic barrier and aimed the fire at a nest of small black snakes, and they slithered away. The sand-colored ones were next, and they retreated also, leaving two square feet free of snakes.
When the area was cleared as far as he could reach, Bolan jumped over the wall and swept the torch from side to side in a two-foot arc as he moved across the room.
Halfway across the flame sputtered. He lit the second can and continued.
When he saw the slowly weaving head in front of him he stopped. One of the king cobras did not retreat from the fire.
Bolan let it sense the heat. He thrust the flame upward and singed its eyes and skin, and it moved away.
Behind him, the snakes were closing in almost as fast as he moved forward. A big diamondback rattlesnake slithered forward, curiously watched his boots, then coiled and rattled. That brought a dozen more rattles as other snakes sensed the danger. Bolan sensed danger, too, but continued, even as the second cobra approached him. The flame flickered, and he removed the third can from his pocket. It refused to light. He tossed it at the deadly snake. In the split second that its head darted sideways to hit the can, Bolan's boot caught the cobra on the side of the head. The force of his kick lifted it off the floor and flung it to the far. In the same movement The Executioner reached the far wall and vaulted out of the pit. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and glanced back. His path was again covered by the killer snakes.
He turned and looked into the next chamber in this house of horrors. His face twisted in surprise, and he cursed at the trial awaiting him.
Through the center of the twelve-foot-square room ran a double barbed-wire fence. On the fence hung two red triangular signs with white lettering: MINEFIELD.
The floor was covered by two feet of sand, gravel, a few small rocks and some rotted sagebrush. The dirt had been laid out with a small hill in the middle, sloping down toward the door. There were a hundred places to put land mines. Were they really there, or was it a bluff? The ceiling had originally been painted white but now showed evidence of an explosion: the center had been sprayed with shrapnel and the black smoke of a blast.
A piece of yellow paper had been taped to the low circular retaining wall around the sand, which cleared an area so that the door could open, Bolan stooped to read the writing on it:
Welcome to Desert Acres. Your short walk through this mine field should be eventful. More than forty different mines are planted here, and some where nobody would expect them. Most are normal U. S. Army antipersonnel mines, which are easy to dig in and easy to set off with the merest touch. A few highly interesting mine-bombs are planted here as well. These are homemade, and at least one is a "positional" type device. It is currently exactly level. If it is tilted, it will blast you straight to hell.
Incidentally, the ceiling and walls of this room are specially constructed with ship plate steel.
Good luck on your little journey. It should be a most memorable one. A last tip. Don't attempt to walk around the walls. The last person who tried got one hell of a surprise — and is no longer with us!
Bolan examined the sand. He knew most of the Army mines forward and backward.
One look at the snakes behind him made him decide. Without a blowtorch he could not return through the snakes. He had to proceed.
He checked for snakes in the sand. There were none. Then he leaned over the retaining wall and examined the surface of the "desert." He saw a slender wire-loop trigger extending a quarter inch from the sand. Carefully he studied the position from which this mine could be dug out.
It was an old trick, to string several mines together. When the digger started removing one, he set off another, and the party was over.
Bolan found three mines interlocked in a tight row. Working on them one by one, still leaning over the wall, he removed the sand meticulously. When he was sure no others were attached, he worked faster and removed the first mine, then the second and at last the third. He left the dirt disturbed so he could tell where to walk.
As he stepped over the wall into the sand, he wished he could blast a path to the far door with the Uzi, but in the confined space one blast would set off another, and he'd have no protection from the shrapnel. His fingers moved cautiously over the sand, not in a straight line to the far door, but in a lateral direction, around the side of the small hill. The shortest route would be the most heavily implanted.
Bolan found no mine for a two-foot span, so he carefully scraped a line across the span three inches deep. He found a trigger barely two inches under the surface, a foot from the last mine.
Sweating, he slung the Uzi over his back to get it out of the way, then removed the mine and put it to the far side, where he would not kick it or place it near a sensitive mine trigger.
Ten minutes later he had removed four more mines and was halfway across the room.
He remembered that the note said something about mines being where no one would expect. What did that mean? The Executioner looked at the retaining wall by the other door and decided he had to clear another three feet, step to the wall and jump to the floor.
No! There would be a mine planted under the floor, he realized. Make it all the way across and then blow yourself up when you thought you were home safe.
He knelt in the safe sand and stared ahead. He had angled his approach toward the end of the retaining wall beside the door, which was open slightly and swung inward.
One more mine came free. It was a different type, and Bolan hoped it could be laid on its side. He held his breath as he put it down, then exhaled.
His fingers found yet another type of device an inch under the surface.
It was ten to twelve inches, square. He detoured around it.
Bolan moved one more routine antipersonnel mine and stood. His foot could touch the wall. But the more he studied this side of the wall the more he realized it was different from the other side.
Four inches from the wall a loop trip wire extended from the retaining boards.
Bolan removed another mine so he could step closer to the door, then leaned over and swung the door inward so he could examine it and the wooden floor. Two mines lay there, with boards resting on the triggers.
Touching either board would be deadly.
He looked into the room beyond and saw a regular floor that once had been covered with linoleum tile. Now some had loosened and come off.
Leaning, he caught the top of the door and rode with it as it closed, swinging over the last two mines and touching down in the next room as his hands were about to hit the doorjamb.
The Executioner glanced at his watch. It was after 4:00 A.M. Plenty of time.
He did not need any more surprises. What was unusual and deadly about this room? There had to be something. Jody Warren was not going to give anyone a free pass through it. Did the missing nine-inch squares of tile form a pattern? No, they were random. He studied the floor. Why were some tiles removed? They had not been curled or steamed off. He examined the nearest bare spot. Strips of black adhesive that had once held tile were still visible. Around the spot the floor had been gouged and scraped.
The tiles had been removed on purpose.
Why?
Bolan turned and delicately lifted the half-inch board from the mine trigger. It was four feet long. He pushed an edge of the board against the floor where the tile had been. Nothing happened. He swung it ahead and jammed it down on the next empty square.
There was an immediate "spanging" sound, and a dartlike arrow whizzed across the room and embedded itself in the far wall.