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with a few hundred captured weapons, mostly without ammunition, and about 300,000 sticks of dynamite. But now they've changed tactics. The Shining Path has been hitting banks and using the money to buy black market arms. And the death toll looks like it's going through the roof."
    "And this is where I come in?"
    "Exactly. The latest information shows that they have an American source. The same M-16's and M 60's our Army uses are ending up in the hands of the Shining Path."
    Bolan felt his stomach do a flip as a sudden anger coursed through him. Somewhere an arms dealer was turning armament made to keep the peace into weapons of terror. Innocent people were dying because another "businessman" was intent on making a buck.
    And every bullet was stamped Made in the U.S.A.
    Bolan shifted in his seat, the sudden urge to action becoming almost a physical force. "Why me, Hal, instead of the CIA? And where would I start?"
    Brognola leaned back in his chair as the sudden power of the man across from him showed in the contained, catlike movements and blazing eyes. The big Fed experienced a momentary desire to follow Bolan into the field, such was the strength that Bolan radiated. But it was only a brief fantasy. Brognola knew his limitations he'd be about as much use to the warrior as a rubber scalpel would be to a surgeon.
    "Garcia is a little paranoid where the Agency is concerned. Having a bunch of spooks wandering around Peru would probably cause more problems than it would solve. As for the second question, you start out on the West Coast. The FBI has a lead that would be worth following. I hope it pans out, since right now it's the only one we've got. Officially the mission is to plug the arms pipeline from this end. If you find something that might send you on to the Peruvian connection, that's up to you. But I know that a lot of people would appreciate it. Unofficially, of course." Brognola fished among a thick pile of files weighing down a corner of his desk before dropping one in front of Bolan. "That's what we know about the Shining Path. It'll make for some interesting reading. There's also a plane ticket and the names of your contacts on the coast."
    Bolan grabbed the manila folder and rose to leave. Now that he had a target there wasn't a moment to lose.
    Brognola's voice stopped him with his hand on the doorknob. "One more thing, Striker. The FBI recently lost a good man on this arms-dealing case. They're taking this one kind of personally. You'll keep that in mind, won't you?"
    With a grunt that could have been an agreement, an acknowledgment or a snort of disgust, the big man slipped through the doorway, leaving Brognola staring at a room that suddenly felt cold and empty.
    He shook his head and grabbed another file.
    * * *
    Aboard a direct flight to San Francisco, Bolan flipped open the file and began to absorb details.
    The Shining Path, or Sendero Luminoso as they were known locally, had first appeared in 1980 with political communiques tied to dogs hanged from lampposts in Lima.
    Since then, a campaign of terror, including assassinations, small-town executions and blown-up railways and bridges, had taken more than ten thousand lives.
    The founder was Abimael Guzman, an ex-professor of philosophy, a moon-faced idealist in his fifties who had a taste for classical music and violence.
    An ardent Communist, Guzman had absorbed early Russian revolutionary writings and had kept marching to the left. Rejecting Russian Communism and Castroism, he had eventually settled on Chairman Mao as his model.
    Sickened by the new quasi-capitalist China, he now believed that the only true representatives of Communist ideology had been Marx, Lenin and Mao Tse-tung. Calling himself "The Fourth Sword of Marxism," he changed his name to Gonzalo and proclaimed himself president of the Republic of New Democracy.
    Leaving the Western-funded university where he taught, he then launched a revolutionary movement aimed at overthrowing the