Tiger War

Bolan walked back to the bar to rejoin Hal Brognola. The U.S. president's special assistant, who had been attending a conference in Berlin, had flown in to meet him.

'The lady left?' he asked as Bolan resumed his seat.

'Yes, she's gone.'

'Some woman.'

'Yeah,' said Bolan. He toyed with a matchbook.

Brognola reached under the table for his briefcase. 'Received a report on Galloping Horse this morning,' he said. 'We're picking them up like flies. We've won the battle, Mack.'

'A battle, Hal, a battle,' said Bolan pensively. 'In the fight against evil there is no final victory. For that you would have to destroy the whole human race because evil lurks in all of us. New Tigers will rise from the ashes of the old.'

'I guess you're right,' Brognola sighed. 'A disturbing thought.'

'Not really,' Bolan reflected aloud. 'In the process of fighting evil, a person also discovers good. That, too, is in all of us. And that's what makes the fight worthwhile.'

Epilogue

Mack Bolan is a soldier, and he fights a soldier's battle. His munitions are all real articles used by combatmen everywhere, and whatever Bolan accomplishes with his weaponry is within the realm of human achievement.

But he also fights a more cosmic war, in which good and evil are far greater concepts than mere weapons in the arsenal of stale ideas. To Bolan, Armageddon is not some future mythical war to be waged between God and Satan — it is here, now, and always has been, as the life force of this planet continually strives to perfect itself.

To achieve every possibility of human excellence within his reach, Bolan must keep moving.

The entire world is on his ass. He must keep moving.

To stay alive.

For the horrors have only just begun...