Read Online Baltimore Trackdown by Don Pendleton - Free Book Online

dead men lay on the tarmac. One other moved, wounded with shrapnel. Bolan kept the French rifle on full-auto as he ran into the scene. He checked the bodies, then looked at the man who had moved. He stared up, at Bolan with angry eyes.
    “Man, they didn’t tell us it was gonna be a goddamned war! You must be that Executioner guy.”
    Bolan nodded.
    “Damn!” the hoodlum said, then died.
    It was over. Bolan called to the chief. The cop ran around the Cadillac and stared at the massacre.
    “It looks like that hill in Korea where we lost so many guys.”
    “They attacked us — remember that.”
    “I don’t even have a radio.”
    “Let’s see if the Chevy will drive. They forgot to shoot out the tires at least. We might be able to start it.”
    They got in and Bolan ground the engine three times, then it started. They headed toward the nearest telephone.
    Bolan told the chief about the Mafia’s attempted takeover.
    “They knew they couldn’t turn you, so you had to be killed. That’s what happened to Lieutenant Paulson yesterday. We’re almost certain that Capt. Harley Davis killed him.” Bolan continued laying it all out, about the try for Assistant Chief Jansen the day before and that two of his assistant chiefs already had been blackmailed.
    “That’s the story, Chief. I’d suggest that you lie low for a day or two. Let them think they nailed you.”
    Chief Smith shook his head. “It’s so much to accept at one time. Captain Davis! One of my best men. He’s taking two thousand a week.”
    “Men do strange things for money, Chief.”
    “But not you. You must be this Executioner we’ve been hearing about. Big story about you in the paper this morning. The FBI says to shoot you on sight.” He chuckled. “You save my life once, and then the second time. I guess you broke some laws, but I had deputized you. You were helping a law-enforcement officer in his sworn duty. But we’re in the county jurisdiction here.
    “I better call the sheriff. I think I’ll stay out here somewhere. Let me make that call, then run me in to the little town up ahead. It’s got a motel and some cafes. I’ve got my credit card.”
    He shook his head again and got out of the car. They were parked outside a general store. “Better make that phone call.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “How many... how many men did you and I kill today?”
    “They weren’t men — they were Mafia killers who had each murdered some Mafia enemy to get in the club. What we did was a public service. Wait until you look at the rap sheets on those guys.”
    The chief nodded and went into the store. He returned quickly.
    “Sheriff already had a report and two cars are on the way. We better get out of here. I made it an anonymous report.”
    Half an hour later Bolan had driven the chief to within a block of a motel and let him off. Then the Executioner put all his weapons back in the suitcase along with his combat harness, slipped on a sport shirt and left the shot-up Chevy on the street. He took his suitcase, walked away and caught a taxi into downtown Baltimore.
    Bolan changed hotels, checked in under a different alias and sat in his room considering his next move. He phoned the rental agency and told the clerk where the car could be found. He mentioned it had been somewhat wrecked and reminded the anxious clerk that the rental fee and the insurance had both been prepaid.
    * * *
    Captain Harley Davis of the Baltimore Police Department had taken the day off as Chief Jansen had suggested, but he did not tell his wife. Instead he drove his unmarked car to an apartment house just off Franklin Street and went up to suite 1111. Eleven was his lucky number.
    A woman wearing a short nightgown came to the door. She peeked around the barrier and when she recognized him, swung open the door.
    “Hey, you gonna bust me?”
    “Of course not, Francie. Any friend of Carlo’s is a friend of mine.”
    “He said you might be around. Had