Blood Heat Zero by Don Pendleton Page A

overlooking the river he was now navigating, Bolan had seen the mine workings during his drive from Akureyri to Egilsstadir.
    It all fit. He figured the workings were no more than a cover for some illicit activity connected with the river. And the lookout post beneath the glacier maybe one of several along the river's course was just a fail-safe precaution to make sure nobody stumbled on the secret.
    If that was so, it was no surprise the plotters had gotten nervous when the Executioner showed... and announced his intention to explore the Jokulsa a Fjollum!
    And that would be reason enough for the chain of attempts by the death squads to write him off. Because they would have to get him out of the way, whether he was making the trip because he knew about the plot or just by coincidence.
    And the hardmen he wasted could well have been Russians. Their MO, too especially the hypo-and-brandy ploy at the Reykjavik hotel was worthy of the KGB at that insidious organization's most devious.
    But if a corner of the puzzle was now completed, the center remained blank.
    Bolan knew who his enemies were and why they wanted him fixed. For good.
    But he was no nearer uncovering the secret they were so anxious to protect.
    What could the Russians be planning in Iceland? ICBM silos? Antimissile sites?
    No way. With the ranges at their disposal firing from home, who needed Iceland?
    Launching pads for cruise missiles or short-range nukes aimed, on the Cuban pattern, at NATO shipping or the more vulnerable countries belonging to the alliance?
    Uh-uh. No mine workings could serve as a cover for that kind of stuff.
    Practically every town in the country boasted an airstrip there would be far too many overflights by coast-guard choppers and private planes for surface projects of that nature to remain undetected. In any case the concession was officially leased; plant was being flown in openly; presumably the authorities enjoyed some kind of inspection facility.
    It seemed obvious, too, that the whole deal was tied in with the river.
    And the sailor in Akureyri had mentioned Red navy specialists.
    Some kind of marine detection unit then? Some monitoring aid for those so-called factory ships in the North Atlantic? Something in any case that must, for Bolan's money, be located underground? Or underwater?
    Whatever, he would find out the truth.
    * * *
    Bolan drank a can of beer, helped himself to some fruit that was left in the alcove and returned to the kayak.
    The Russian voice on the radio was still querulously demanding news. Bolan switched on the light, pushed himself out into midstream and continued his journey.
    The two snipers he had killed had used an inflatable raft to reach their lookout post. Even with rapids and an occasional waterfall, this had to mean that the river, from here on down to its exit from beneath the glacier, was largely navigable.
    No class-six stretches of white water, no cascades dropping over unclimbable shelves, no tunnels with roofs too low to allow a canoeist to pass.
    Bolan wondered if there would be other, more dangerous obstacles. A second lookout post, for instance, with more alert patrols?
    He guessed not. There was no other entry to the subterranean watercourse; one post between the sinkhole and the exit would surely be enough.
    That didn't rule out the possibility of an emplacement somewhere along the Vatnajokull's terminal moraine. That was where he would install a backup team himself, if he was determined to block all boating on the upper part of the river.
    He guessed right on both counts.
    But before he saw the sky again, there were natural hazards to overcome.
    The river twisted through caverns no more than ten feet high, ran out across vast chambers whose roofs were lost in darkness far above the flashlight's range. At times it flowed fast and deep, then bubbled over rock steps, where there was scarcely enough draft to float the kayak.
    Other times the waterway lost itself in underground lakes so wide it