"He really went for it, huh?"

"He went for it, all right. With straining ears and licking lips."

"Just don't let him get clean away, Sarge. He's the one that burned Howlin' Harlan."

The Executioner's voice was tensely frosted as it snapped back, "Are you sure of that?"

"As sure as you were that Howlie didn't burn himself," Blancanales replied.

"Okay. Get on trap station. Get Gadgets in with all speed. This one is liable to be just one beat off the numbers."

Damn right.

"This one" would indeed be crowding every number at Bolan's disposal. Plus a few that he hadn't even found yet.

John Tatum and Carl Lyons were waiting in a darkened vehicle in a stakeout position outside the police building when Bolan dropped his passenger.

Tatum straightened quickly and declared, "There she blows. The Ferrari."

Lyons' attention was riveted to the dishevelled man who had lurched onto the sidewalk. "That's Tony Danger, eh?"

"The one and only." The Captain chuckled. "Looks like he's been through a grinder."

The Ferrari was already gone, taillights faintly twinkling in the distance. "That Bolan's a cool bastard," Lyons commented.

"Well probably never know just how cool," Tatum said, sighing.

"Look at that. The guy's actually going inside."

"Oh he's strictly legit," the homicide chief said drily. "Wait'll he finds out he was released over an hour ago."

"Just hope he reacts properly."

"He will. I'd have to mark Bolan A-plus on that score, he knows his enemy."

"I'd still quote it at a hundred-to-one," the L.A. cop sniffed.

"No, not that wide. Tony will call his boss as soon as he realizes it's a new game. And then I think it'll go pretty much as Bolan laid it out."

"Hope you realize you're betting a twenty-six-year career on that," Lyons said. "I mean ... Bolan's some other kind of guy, yeah. But dammit John, he's no superman."

Tatum chuckled. "We seem to have reversed positions," he said. "Relax, Sergeant. You don't have to take the role of devil's advocate. I'm not going off half-cocked."

Lyons laughed self-consciously. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I might have been a Mack Bolan myself, once. Guys like him don't come gift-wrapped from heaven or hell. They're just guys ... like you, like me. Destiny shapes 'em. Not personal destiny, none of that shit. Human destiny. Or, if you'd rather, call it a chance combination of environment and circumstances, coupled with an individual's unique abilities. Bingo, a Mack Bolan appears. I saw a few guys like him ... in the hellgrounds of Europe, Second World War. Tell the truth, Lyons, I am glad the guy came to town. Made me remember."

"Wanta form a fan club?" Lyons asked grinning.

"I might do that," the Captain replied soberly.

"I, uh, hate to admit that I wasn't really listening when Bolan outlined his game to you. What, uh, what the hell … ?"

"It's a simple power sweep," Tatum explained. "Ben Lucasi is a small-potatoes area chief with dreams of empire. What the hell has he got here, really, in a quiet town at the corner of the nation? A bit of border smuggling, maybe a bit of trading in international contraband, close access to the free-wheeling gambling interests in Mexico. Can you build a national empire out of something like that?"

"Not without some hot gimmick," Lyons decided.

"Well, he's found one. Pretty wild idea, really, and pretty daring when you really think about it. I wouldn't think Lucasi was capable of it. But … well, Bolan tells me that Big Little Ben is reaching to corner the horsetrack action in this country. I mean the full gambit … from bookmaking to layoff books to numbers' lotteries, racing wires, the whole thing."

"How the hell could he manage that?" Lyons muttered thoughtfully. "The mob already has a pretty intricate structure around that business."

"Yeah, but Benny thinks he's found a new wrinkle. One that will put him in undisputed control of a worldwide gambling wire setup. Then the entire complicated U. S. structure will have to come begging to him to get into the big action. Yeah, it's a hot gimmick ... if he could make it work."

"How would he make it work?"

"Some kind of ultra-sophisticated radio gear he's hijacked from the military. Bolan says that one of our leading citizens has dirty fingers over the deal. Guy heads an electronics firm that does government contract work. Bolan says he was strong-armed into the deal, desperately wants out. It's a defense security-violation rap if he gets nailed. That's what I'm pegging my whole interest on. I believe Thornton — he's the guy — I believe he's the key to a lot of infectious corruption we've been noting around town the past few years. If we could get Thornton to bust loose and...."

Lyons observed, "That's not homicide work."

"I'm a cop," Tatum replied quietly.

"Yeah, you are that," the L.A. Sergeant agreed.

"Anyway, there are plenty of unsolved homicides tied into this mess, I'm sure of that."

"I suppose so."

"I know so. Tony Danger there. He's Lucasi's most trusted triggerman. I know that. So do a lot of other people. He's responsible for a dozen or more homicides in my jurisdiction over the past two years. I know it. Proving it in a court of law is something else again. So ... yeah … I'm raiding the long end of the odds. Maybe something will shake loose from this Bolan blast."

Lyons grinned,"keeping a thought to himself. Cap'n Tatum, it seemed, was a total convert. He wasn't the first. Certainly he wouldn't be the last. Mack Bolan's lonely war was becoming less lonely all the time. Give it to the guy, though, he'd built that base of unofficial support all on his own. It was hard to come into contact with the guy and not end up cheering him on ... if only from the sidelines.

"Anyway," Tatum was explaining further, "Bolan was going to let it drop on Tony Danger that he's planning a hit on this radio equipment. He figures it's the one thing that will bring Lucasi out fighting. Hopefully it will panic the guy. He'll rush off to a wild-ass defense of his precious dream. By that time, Bolan will be right on his tail. He'll let Lucasi pinpoint the equipment for him."

"So why aren't we staking out Lucasi ourselves, instead of sitting here waiting for — "

"You said it yourself a minute ago," Tatum growled. "My job is homicide. I'm not running off on any wild-ass federal — "

"What homicide?"

"Maxwell Thornton's. Bolan is betting, and I agree, that Lucasi will order Tony Danger to hit Thornton, and quick. Hell be moving everything he's got to keep his game alive. Thornton is his pivot man. And mine. I aim to keep him alive, and I aim to nail Tony Danger once and for all."

"God I wouldn't want to be on your limb," Lyons commented in a hushed voice.

"Neither would I, but I'm there, so shut up."

"One more thing, Cap'n. These guys have tried radio before. They even set up a legit broadcast station in Mexico a few years back to — "

"Didn't work," Tatum snapped. "First of all, anybody could tune into the broadcasts. Nothing exclusive about that. Secondly, the Mexican government shut them down when our feds requested cooperation. This is a whole new wrinkle. It's more exclusive than any telephone wire. Virtually untappable, and — there he is!"

Tony Danger had reappeared at the entrance to the police building. He appeared to be in much better shape, now — cocky, strutting down the street to the corner.

Moments later a heavy black car swung in to the curb. Tony Danger slid in, and the car slid away.

Tatum moved his vehicle smoothly into the flow of traffic and spoke into his microphone. "Hotel One, subject acquired, moving north toward Pacific Highway. Black limousine, tag California niner-zero-four, hotel-delta-tango. All units close per instructions and maintain surveillance. Subject turning west at…."