The Executioner #68: Prairie Fire

The Executioner #68: Prairie Fire, by Michael Newton
August, 1984  Gold Eagle Books

Certainly one of Newton’s best efforts, and possibly one of the best Mack Bolan stories ever by any writer, including the redoubtable Don Pendleton himself. -- William H. Young, A Study Of Action-Adventure Fiction 

I picked up this early Michael Newton installment of The Executioner several years ago, based off Young’s glowing review, and I have to say he was pretty accurate. This really is “a very special installment” of the series, throttling way back on the usual action overload and focusing more on suspense – with an appropriately action-packed climax. Also, being so early in the Gold Eagle years, the “Pendletonisms” are in full force, so it seems there must’ve been some sort of editorial mandate to make the books actually read like the work of creator Don Pendleton.

And Newton succeeds, though he could be accused a little of overkill, almost to the point of parody; you could start a drinking game over how many narrative sentences include the random “right” or “yeah” or even “damn right.” You know, those periodic affirmative asides Pendleton would sprinkle into his original Executioners. But also like Pendleton, Newton strives to give us a human hero – one who would be increasingly hard to believe in as the series would continue running on and on and on – with Bolan’s constant regret over not living a normal life, how there’s only “one logical end” to his war, etc. But in Prairie Fire it works, because Mack “The Executioner” Bolan does not have his usual accoutrements to rely on, being hunted by armed foes in the cornfields of Kansas, and he must use his cunning and craft to turn the tables.

First though we have a prologue in which we learn that Bolan is once again on his own, without “official sanction,” just as he’d been back during the Pendleton run. Stony Man, the compound he was working out of from the earliest Gold Eagle installments, has been destroyed, and April, Bolan’s girlfriend, has been killed. I’ve never actually read a novel with April in it so I have no idea what the character was like. I also assume this one’s a sequel to the Stony Man Doctrine standalone, which was written by G.H. Frost; I have that one, but have never read it. Actually it might be a sequel to Day Of Mourning, by Stephen Mertz – I’m really not up on Gold Eagle lore, as when I got into the various series books it was later in the ‘80s, long after these early installments.

Newton doen’t waste much time with this, though, other than Bolan’s occasional rumination that he no longer has “sanction” (the word is repeated enough times that I assume it must’ve specified in the final Pendleton installments, which I believe lay the groundwork for the Gold Eagle run). Instead, we meet “the runner” as he desperately tries to evade his former captors, running through the cornfields. It is of course Bolan, but in this first chapter Newton just refers to him as “the runner.” He’s in a bad way, too; shot and bleeding, his hands cuffed. We’ll learn he was here due to some plot by an “offshore” enemy (likely those friggin’ Soviets) who plotted to sabotage a microchip-processing plant. This entire subplot is a MaGuffin, just setup for the meat of the book, which is Bolan defending himself and a few countryfolk against an invading army of mercenaries.

Bolan’s pursuers are a team of mercs headed by The Cowboy, a veteran mercenary in a cowboy hat and mirrored shades, his look and persona modelled after the Westerns he watched as a kid. We get the occasional cutover scene to him, marshalling his troops and providing strategy, but unfortunately the character sort of fell flat for me. He is treated a little too realistically and needed to be more outlandish. But then, it’s the ‘80s now, not to mention a Gold Eagle book, so the colorful pulpy elements of the ‘70s have been gutted. More damningly, he doesn’t do much to invoke the reader’s hate; we meet Bolan after he’s already escaped the Cowboy’s men, and the villain himself doesn’t even confront our hero until the final pages, a moment Gil Cohen depicts for his memorable cover.

It’s certainly an unusual installment, and for the most part plays like a standalone novel, or even more of a standard thriller – I could easily see this plot being used for a Jack Reacher novel. This is particularly true of the one-off characters who come to Bolan’s aid in his desperate escape from the Cowboy and his hunters. Bolan comes upon a farm and collapses in the barn, only to be discovered by a young lady – and an old man bearing a shotgun. The young lady is named Toni, and the old man is Jason, her father-in-law and a WWII vet. There’s also Jason’s wife Emma here on the farm. Eventually we’ll learn that Toni’s husband, a cop, was killed in the line of duty, and she’s been staying with his parents ever since – Newton develops a tragic, mournful subplot for Toni, but doesn’t overplay it.

First though Bolan’s too busy trying to convince Jason not to blow his head off. The old vet wants to take Bolan to the sheriff in town, but it’s too late already and for some reason the truck won’t start. And also the phone’s not working. Bolan suspects the hunters have tracked him down and have cut off any means of escape. But really this is the only stumbling part of Prairie Fire. We know from the few cutaway sequences to the Cowboy that he has indeed tracked down Bolan to the farm, but he’s holding his men back, ensuring there aren’t a bunch of gun-brandishing farmers in there, etc. But clearly the action is held off in an effort to build up the suspense…and also to fill up a novel.

Instead, the focus becomes more on the tension in the house as Jason slowly begins to realize that this handcuffed, bleeding stranger might not be a dangerous criminal. And meanwhile Toni’s already fallen for his rugged masculinity, believing in his innocence from the get-go. Bolan isn’t one to plead, though; in fact he encourages Jason to get him to the local Sheriff, as he knows his presence here in the barn puts everyone in jeopardy. When Jason discovers a block of C4 in the truck next morning (the villains kindly allowing Bolan to have a full night’s sleep), he realizes Bolan’s story is legit. The handcuffs are snapped off, Bolan’s allowed a shower (of course Toni manages to “accidentally” barge in on him), given a nice country breakfast, and then it’s down to the serious business of planning for defense against a group of heavily-armed mercenaries. Meanwhile all Bolan has is a block of C4, some old blasting caps, Jason’s .22 rifle, and other household odds and ends.

It’s like Maguyver as Bolan starts jury-rigging weapons; a particularly cool one is the set of “homemade grenades” which are composed of roofing nails jammed into cans, with a squib of C4 and a blasting cap on them. There isn’t much ammo for the .22, so Bolan basically ensures it still shoots. He also reinforces the doors and windows of the house and sets various traps. And, more importantly, finds a little time to get cozy with Toni. Nothing too explicit, but at least you know what’s happening – and definitely a surprise in the otherwise sex-free Gold Eagle world. Bolan, in “role camo” as a farmer in straw hat and overalls, goes out to the barn to check on things, pretending to just be a random farmhand for all the mercs he assumes are out there spying on the place. Then Toni follows along without telling him and basically throws herself on him in the barn. Newton again plays it more on the emotional tip, with both Bolan and Toni, who have each suffered great losses, finding temporary solace in one another.

The novel’s sole action scene begins on page 132 and runs for the rest of the book. The Cowboy’s men make their assault on the farm at night, their submachine guns outfitted with silencers. Bolan has fortified the farmhouse as best he can, and there’s more carnage and gore than I thought there’d be, with the Cowboy’s mercs getting fried by electrified wire on screen doors and their faces blown off by homemade grenades. Bolan dishes out some death with the .22 rifle, but appropriates whatever dropped subguns he can. Even here he can’t catch a break, with many of the guns he picks up already being low on ammo. Jason and his wife don’t get much spotlight, other than Jason’s brief flashback to fighting the Japanese as a Marine in the war, but Toni gets to chop some dude with a butcher knife.

It has the vibe of Night Of The Living Dead mixed with Assault On Precinct 13, and more importantly it seems like something that could’ve come out of one of the Pendleton installments. Bolan is presented as human in the battle scene, despite taking out a goodly amount of heavily-armed mercs with nothing more than household items. As mentioned the cover moment comes into play in the finale, with the Cowboy getting hold of Toni and putting his stainless .44 to her head. But Toni’s no shrieking victim and gets a good grab of a delicate part of the Cowboy’s anatomy, which leads to a brutal hand-to-hand confrontation between Bolan and the villain. We of course know who the victor will be, but it’s nicely done because Bolan’s so spent and enraged from the past couple days that he ends up sort of “double-killing” the Cowboy.

Overall this was an enjoyable volume of the series, well-written by Newton and with a fine sense of tension and suspense. Also there was good characterization throughout. Again, would’ve made for a fine standalone thriller, but I suspect the average Gold Eagle reader would expect more action.