Baltimore Trackdown Read Online Free PDF Page B

rock on the accelerator pedal, aimed the screaming Chevy at the burning Cadillac fifty feet away, tied down the steering wheel and released the parking brake.
    The destruction derby car raced forward, picking up speed. Franconi helplessly traveled more than thirty miles an hour toward the Cadillac. When they hit, the Chevy’s gas tank exploded, gas and gas vapor gushed over the Cadillac and both cars burned with a furious intensity, incinerating everything in sight, even melting some of the metals.
    Bolan turned and walked away, the FA MAS on his shoulder, Big Thunder in his hand.
    “It isn’t much, Beth,” the Executioner said. “But I hope it settles the score. Maybe now you can rest in peace.”

4
    As the Executioner drove away from the racetrack on a country road, a fire truck charged toward him, its siren wailing and red lights flashing. He pulled to one side to let it pass. He figured the fire at the track had attracted them. But he was too far away to be connected with it.
    He had about half an hour to get to Herring Run Park, just off Sinclair, where he was to meet Nino Tattaglia.
    His forehead wrinkled as he reviewed his mission in Baltimore. He had to find out what deadly, destructive event was about to go down here, and hoped Nino would be able to tell him.
    The Executioner was a big man, more than six feet tall and a finely muscled two hundred pounds. Right now his cold blue eyes were trained on the road. He was not moved one way or the other by the dead men he left behind. Eradicating human evil had long been a necessary fact of life for him.
    This was an everlasting war, and it had brought him to Baltimore. It was a war he knew no one man could win.
    Bolan was a realist. He knew that one day he would move too slowly, or a bullet or grenade would be in exactly the right spot and the warrior would be killed. But until that happened, he was charging ahead, he was digging into every dirty Mafia operation he could find, he was pumping the Mafia full of hot lead. He was also living large and making every second count.
    He would make the Mafia fear him for as long as his strength and life remained.
    The holy war against the Mafia had become Bolan’s purpose in life.
    And so, to fight again.
    He swung the rented Chevy into the park, watching for a man on a picnic bench. He saw him and parked.
    Nino slid into the car and frowned. “Bad for my image to be seen sitting on a park bench.”
    “What’s going down in Baltimore?”
    Nino’s eyes widened. “You’ll never believe it. It’s a capo’s dream!”
    “Try me.”
    “The Nazarione family’s about to take over the whole goddamned police department! The operation has been in place for months and is coming down to the last phase. Already we’ve got two city councilmen pinned down and two of the four assistant chiefs!”
    “Blackmail?” Bolan asked, his face turning grim.
    “Most likely, or exposure on some corruption. The family has the whole damn department on the hook, not just a hundred officers and some captains! The whole town will become our playground!”
    “What two assistant chiefs have been caught?”
    “I don’t know. Hell, I was lucky to get this much. But it’s all on a timetable, so much done each week, and we’re near the end of the game.”
    “You and I are going to call off the game because of a number of deaths in the Nazarione family, Nino.”
    “Maybe. You hear about the cop getting killed this morning?”
    Bolan shook his head.
    “Some lieutenant in a shoot-out with a robber. And guess who was on hand, ‘working’ with the lieutenant? Our own Capt. Harley Davis. Which probably means the lieutenant was honest and they gunned him down because he couldn’t be bought or bribed or blackmailed. Odds are that Captain Davis pulled the trigger with three or four bribed cops as backup.”
    “What’s the next target?”
    “That much I do know,” Nino said. “It will be Assistant Chief Larry Jansen. And it’s set to go down in