Bolan-Omega said, "You understand-once I start, there's no calling it back."
Copa sighed and said, "Just do what you have to do to save the investment. But do it quietly."
Bolan glanced at his watch as the distant sound of copter blades stole into the moment. Time was up. Grimaldi was nearby.
He casually put a hand into his coat pocket and punched the button on the microradio as he told his host, "My chopper is coming. It's time to go. But I'll be around. You'll give Gordy my message?"
Copa's lips twisted into a wry smile, but the eyes did not know it. "Cheese for the rat, huh?"
Bolan grinned soberly. "You said that; I didn't."
"Yeah but you've been working on me to say it ever since you got here. Don't deny it." Bolan-Omega did not deny it. He said, "It's your territory, Nick."
"But it's your game," Copa said, still smiling wryly.
Bolan hoped that was true.
Yeah. He certainly hoped that it was.
CHAPTER 12
Grimaldi's eyes were looking a bit wild as Bolan climbed aboard and said, "Hit it."
They hit it, moving up and away before Bolan was fully settled into the seat. He put on the headset and told his pilot, "Perfect timing, Jack."
Grimaldi showed him a shaking hand and said, "I never get used to this."
"Neither do I," Bolan admitted.
"How'd it go?"
"Okay, I think. Do we have ground communications?"
"Yeah. I was just talking to them. Switch your headset over to the left hand position." "Got it. Can you hear me?"
"Right. Go ahead. You're on."
"Rover, do you read Skyman?"
Tommy Anders' delighted tones bounced back through the earphone. "Five by, guy. Do it."
"He bought it. Are you in position?"
"In place and waiting, old buddy. Is the game the same?"
"No changes at this time, Rover. But play it loose."
"I read the game the same and we play it loose. We gone, bye bye."
Bolan switched the headset back to inter-com and asked Grimaldi, "Did you hear it?"
"I heard it," the pilot tensely replied. "So now what?"
"So now we wait and watch and hope," Bolan told him.
"The story of my life," Grimaldi replied, sighing.
Exactly. That was exactly what it was.
"He didn't stay long," Mazzarelli nervously observed.
"Not that guy," Copa said. "He's not here to fart around. Jeez, he's an impressive son of a bitch."
"What, uh, what's it all about, Nick?"
"Damned if I know yet. Makes no sense to me. You sure you told me all you know about that Leonetti kid?"
"God is my witness, Nick. So what'd the guy say?"
"About what?"
"About anything. Exactly what did he want?"
"Damned if I know for sure. Those guys play it close to the chest. But he's going to be around awhile, Gordy. I want you to treat him right. That means stay out of his way."
"If that's what you want, sure."
"That's what I want."
"What's he looking for? What does Leonetti have to do with it?"
"I don't know for sure. He says Leonetti is Clemenza's man. But you know how these guys are. They don't say much. But I think he was sent by the sponsors."
"What made you think that?"
"Well, he's got a Full House."
"Yeh, but that comes from…” Mazzarelli nervously lit a cigarette. "I guess I don't understand how those-who sends those guys? I mean, how are they sent?"
"Hell, Gordy, I could send them."
"You could?"
"Sure. A year ago, no. Today, yeah. I just call the head shed and tell 'em I need someone. Whatever they send is whatever fits the problem and whatever fits the sender. Now, see, I don't think I could draw a Full House, though. I mean, after all, let's be men, my horsepower isn't that high yet. Get me?"
"Okay, sure, I get that. You're saying a Full House means a lot of horsepower sent it."
"You got it."
"And you think he was sent by the sponsors?"
"That's what I think, yeah. Why? Does that make you nervous?"
Mazzarelli sent out a smoke signal from his lungs as he replied, "A little, yeah. I don't like this kind of stuff behind my back. Neither should you."
"You want to call the sponsors and put in a complaint, Gordy?"
"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying I don't like it."
"Why not? If we're clean, what's to worry? Clemenza took a fall. Okay. That's not my fault. It isn't even my worry. I didn't set this thing up. And I'm not going to fall with it. But now of course if the sponsors think there's a way to pull it out, then sure, that's okay with me. I got money in this thing, too. If Omega can pull it out, who the hell cares who sent him?"
"Is that what he's here for?"
"What did I say?"
"You said to pull it out. How the hell can he pull it out?"
"I already said more than I meant to say," Copa growled. "Forget I said anything. You reading me, Gordy? Forget it."
"Okay, okay," Mazzarelli replied, backing off somewhat. "But I still think…"
"Who do you think, Gordy?"
"I think someone should keep an eye on that hot ass. We all know what those guys tried to pull off under old man Marinello. I wouldn't trust them any farther than I can shoot, Nick. I mean that. Listen, something's funny in town already. Something's out of whack. While you were out jawing with that guy, I spent my time checking the action in town. Something's screwy. Certain people are suddenly nowhere. People are-"
"Certain people like who?"
"Certain people like Dolly Clark and Ray Oxley and Jess Higgins. Phones don't answer, or phones are busy or you get dumb answers. I don't like it. I think this guy is already taking a big walk through our territory, Nick. And I don't like it-no, I don't like it."
"You think you ought to be in town?"
"I sure do. I at least want to know what the guy is doing."
Copa turned away to be sure he didn't tip his hand with an irrepressible smile. He said, "Okay, Gordy. You go on in and safe your town. But you stay out of Omega's way."
The guy didn't even bother to thank him, or to acknowledge the okay-or even to say so long. He just got the hell out of there, moving fast, consumed by the need to protect his own little empire. And the boss of Nashville had to wonder as to the extent of the empire Crazy Gordy had already carved out for himself.
Yeah. The lord of any realm would necessarily wonder about such things. And he would move very quickly, too, to protect his own.
Copa gave Mazzarelli a couple of minutes to get clear before he punched the desk intercom to start his own move.
"Get the cars ready," he instructed. "We're going to town."
Damn right they were going to town.
Omega had been a hundred percent right.
And that fucking Mazzarelli was soon going to be 100 percent dead.
"The quail is on the wing, Skyman."
"How many away?"
"We count two, coming out fast. Five to the flock."
Which meant, Bolan thought, two vehicles each bearing five men. Mazzarelli with two full crews of headhunters, if the thing was working.
"You've wired them?"
"They're wired."
"Look for more. And give me a quick hit when they show."
"Ten-four."
Bolan explained to Grimaldi: "They'll all be flying before long. I hope. Hang loose, Jack. I may decide to call an audible."
The pilot replied, "Right. What'd you find in there?"
"I'm not sure. That's why the possible audible."
"Whatever that means," Grimaldi sighed. "You still want a hard hand?"