THE SCAVENGERS RAISED THEIR RIFLES....

  Blade's lightning reflexes were more than equal to the occasion.  He simply slid the Commando's barrel over the lower rim of the window and squeezed the trigger.  A torrent of slugs slammed into the leader's chest and smashed him into the fissure-ridden asphalt, geysers of blood spurting from his torso.
  On the passenger side, Hickok leaned out the window and fired each Colt.   two of the men dropped, their craniums shattered.
  The remaining pair were backpedaling frantically, shooting as they went, their shots deflected by the SEAL's impenetrable windshield.
  Blade and Hickok ducked inside.
  "What say we teach these cowchips a lesson?" Hickok asked.

#20
DALLAS RUN

DEATH, TEXAS STYLE

   Blade burst from the alley to find a battle being waged.
   Geronimo, Lieutenant Garber, Private Griffonetti, and Private McGonical were under assault from dozens of assailants.  Gungy figures lined the roofs, were framed in windows, or had taken cover behind every available shelter.
   Blade saw a tall man on the roof across the street let fly with an arrow from a compound bow.  The shaft sped true, slicing into Griffonetti's throat and protruding out the back of his neck.  Without a moment's hesitation, Blade angled the M-60 upward and squeezed the trigger.  The heavy slug tore into the assailant and catapulated him from sight.
   Blade pivoted, lowering the machine gun's barrel, and sent several rounds into each foe.  They were flung to the road on their backs, kicking and shaking in their death throes.
   A chunk of brick struck Blade on the right temple, filling his head with excruciating pain, and he twisted and glanced up to discover a man with a beard in a second-floor window, about to hurl a bigger piece of brick.  Blade gritted his teeth and fired, and the man screeched as he staggered backwards and vanished....