Bolan checked some file drawers and the desk, but found nothing that would be helpful. He decided it was time to haul ass, as he used to say in the army.
He eased open the office door and peered out. A Mafia soldier with his back to the door was talking to Angela.
The Executioner swung open the door, surged out and brought the side of the Beretta down across the soldiers skull. The man turned and collapsed, out cold. Bolan caught him and eased him to the floor.
Lets get out of here! Bolan whispered.
They ran lightly down the hall, through the access door and into the other hallway. Then they walked past a maid, whose arms were full of rumpled sheets, and a minute later were safely in Angelas room.
Theyll find that goon quickly and youll be in trouble, the Executioner said.
She smiled. Then youll just have to take me with you or theyll do all sorts of ugly things to me.
Bolan scowled for a moment, then shrugged. Do you have any pants? Its easier going out windows and over walls in pants than in a skirt.
Ill have to change.
Ive seen ladies change clothes before.
Yes, Ill just bet you have. She took a suitcase from a stand and pawed through it, found a pair of tan pants and a tan blouse. She watched him closely as she removed her blouse. When he remained silent, she dropped her skirt, revealing skimpy blue panties. A moment later she shrugged and put on the blouse, then the pants and slipped into a pair of worn running shoes.
If you want to wait until it gets dark, we could think of something to do to pass the time.
Sounds interesting, but I have a deadline. Raise the window and look around. Are they still looking at the cars?
She raised the window. There was no screen.
I see only a pair of guards.
Figures.
Bolan stood well back in the room and looked outside. It was going to be harder to leave than it had been to arrive. He had no more diversions. The bombs planted in the house would have to wait for another time. Getting the woman out would make it tougher unless he used her as a diversion.
Briefly he outlined an idea to her and she giggled.
I love it! I havent had so much fun since I went skinny-dipping in the pool of the Beverly Hills Hotel.
Watching at the window they timed the rounds of the guards. When the way was clear, they slid out through the opening. Bolan pulled the window shut and led Angela through the shrubs down to the tennis-court trail, where there was a gap in the brush.
They waited in the shrubs until a young guard approached, carrying an Uzi. The timing was critical. As the guard came near, Angela stepped out of the brush.
She jumped with feigned surprise and turned around. In the few seconds it took him to recover, Bolan rose out of the brush and brought the hardened edge of his palm down on the mans neck. The man dropped and the Executioner dragged him into the shrubbery. Then he and Angela crossed to the far side of the walk, hidden again.
At the path near the fence, Angela sat on a patch of grass in the sunshine and opened her blouse for a little bit of all-over tan. The first guard to approach cleared his throat about twenty feet away. She pretended to be sleeping as she leaned against the wall. The guard walked quietly by, staring. He did not see Bolan rising behind him.
The Executioner swung the Uzi submachine gun he had confiscated from the other guard, smashing it against the side of the mans neck. His neck cracked loudly. When the criminal soldier collapsed, he would never rise again.
Bolan boosted the woman over the six-foot block wall, then went over himself. They slumped against the wall, then as a neighbors dog barked, they calmly walked to the street and Bolans rented Buick.
Three miles away, Bolan pulled to a curb.
What now? Angela asked.
Thats up to you. Youve escaped. Can I drive you somewhere?
No, I like it here with you.
I have some work to finish. Do you have any relatives where I can take you?
No, just back to Carlos castle.
Bolan turned around, opened the suitcase on the rear seat and slid the Uzi inside. Before he could stop her, Angela grabbed a grenade. She held the arming handle down and pulled the ring, removing the safety pin.
She sat in the passenger side of the car, holding the grenade in her right hand, a strange, wild look on her pretty face.
I finally remembered where I saw you before. It was at our house the night Jo Jo died. Hell, he wasnt much, but he was mine! He fathered my children. What am I supposed to do now live off the goodness of the godfather for the next sixty years?
She did not wait for a reply.
No way! Ill work the streets first, selling my ass! Then here you come, the big killer, the man who made me a widow. At least I remember, and I know I have to do something about it. Guns are hard to use. You can miss when you try to kill someone. But a grenade! Theres no chance to miss. So what if I have to stay here with you to make sure? I just let the handle pop off and I hold it right in your gut and blow both of us all over the inside of this car! Her eyes were wild and she was breathing fast. She reached down and rubbed her breast. Ill blow us both to hell! Better that way. Damn sight better that way. Carlo can raise my two kids.
Bolan knew she was very near to doing what she threatened to do. He had seen angry women before. He moved toward her slowly, and rested his hand on her shoulder. He patted her gently as she rambled on.
Hell, I dont care. I got cheated out of a husband. Somebody who treated me fine in spite of the bitchy things I did to him. That man was a saint.
Bolan moved closer, speaking softly. He knew she was distraught and any sudden moves on his part could mean the end for both of them.
Angela, I know things look a little gloomy now, Bolan coaxed, but theyll be better. Think of your children!
He caught her hand gently and eased the grenade away while holding the arming handle firmly in place.
Bolan leaned away from her, took a roll of black tape from the suitcase on the seat behind them and taped the grenades arming handle solidly in position. Then he put it back in the case.
She sighed and broke into tears. Oh, damn! I have to go back. Ill tell Carlo that you tricked me and forced me to help you, and that I almost killed you with a grenade. Hell have to believe me.
Bolan reached over, touched her chin and turned her face to him.
Angela, you are a beautiful, sexy woman. Just relax and see how things look in a month or so. Youll be married again within a year, or I miss my guess.
She blinked. You really think so?
Yes, besides, killing me wont accomplish anything. Your children must be important to you.
Yes, of course. But Im important, too.
He dropped her downtown and watched her get a cab. The women were the real losers within the whole Mafia framework, he thought. The mobsters women always lost.
He consulted his watch not quite noon. There was a little more than twenty-four hours before the mayors speech. He had a lot of important work to do before then.
Behind the rented Buick, a man in a rented Thunderbird watched Mack Bolan. The man was large six foot four and 260 pounds of hardened muscle. He had black flashing eyes, dark hair that crowded his collar and was clean shaven. His name was Vince Carboni and he worked for La Commissione, the high commission of the Mafia bosses of bosses. His only job to hunt down and kill Mack Bolan.
11
Vince Carboni snorted as he watched the man he had been hunting for two months. Now he would watch Mack Bolan, get in position and blow him away before Bolan even knew that Vince Carboni was in town.
He had been going to see Carlo Nazarione to warn him not to notify the Bolan Search Center in New York that the bastard was in Baltimore. Turning in at Nazariones gate, he saw two people walking down the street. One was a knockout blonde, the other one was Bolan.