“Hold it right there Solo!”
Those words made Napoleon freeze in his tracks. There’d be no help from Illya as he was on assignment in Mexico.
“Can we talk?” Napoleon slowly raised his hands.
“No.” The guard stepped forward, reaching for the agent’s weapon.
Napoleon grabbed his rifle, swinging it upwards and with it he knocked the guard out cold.
“Would have gone much easier for you if we’d just talked.” He stepped over the body and proceeded outside to the getaway car.
“How’d it go mate?” Mark Slate asked.
“Piece of cake, in and out. No problem at all.”
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