rose from his chair, advancing on her, pleased that she did not flinch away from him. "You're not like me at all, Evangelina. When was the last time you killed a man? Can you remember how the blood smelled? How his brains looked when you held the gun against his head and dropped the hammer?''
As he spoke the soldier aimed an index finger at her pretty face, the fingertip coming to rest between her eyes.
She shivered at his touch but did not pull away.
Bolan bored in, unrelenting, hating the hurt he had put in her eyes, knowing there was no soft way around the obstacle.
"You ever slit a throat, Evangelina? Do you know the way it feels to saw through flesh and gristle like you're carving a roast, except the roast's still fighting for its life?"
A single tear made a glistening track across one cheek.
"I've never killed a man," she said, the voice soft, shaking. "But I could. I know it."
"Don't be eager," Bolan told her, letting softness creep into his voice now.
He cupped her face gently in his palm, tenderly wiping away the tear.
"I am a soldier," she repeated.
"Fine. So live to fight another day."
She was resisting, but more weakly now.
"I choose my fights," she said softly, tearfully.
And Bolan knew he had her now.
"Sorry. This one's taken."
"And if I refuse to stay behind?"
It was a question more than a challenge. He could sense that most of the fight had drained out of her now.
"I don't have time to argue with you now," he said. "You know what I say is true." He paused, letting that sink in, waiting until she nodded, a barely perceptible motion of her head. "I'll need your car keys."
Another moment's hesitation, then she fished around inside her purse, finally coming out with them and handing them over to Bolan. He turned toward Hannon, frowning, knowing he had put the former captain of detectives on the spot.
"I'll be back when I can," he said.
If I can.
And Bolan pushed the grim, defeatist thought away from him as he shook hands with Hannon at the door. Behind the ex-cop, he could see Evangelina watching him, but she did not respond when Bolan waved his hand in parting.
"We'll be here," Hannon told him, glancing briefly at the lady.
Evangelina nodded, finally.
"Si."
And Bolan put that house behind him, hoping those two good people would be safe along the sidelines of his war. There were no guarantees, he knew, but at the same time he had done his utmost, short of backing off completely while he saw the lady to some haven out of town or out of state.
There was no time for backing off or backing down, the warrior knew from grim experience. The battle had been joined there in Miami, and although he still had no firm handle on the situation, he knew that there was only one direction he could travel on the hellfire trail.
His course was dead ahead and damn the enemy's defenses. The Executioner had come to shake Miami, and nothing short of death would stop him from accomplishing that aim.
He was rattling Miami, see what fell out of the vipers' nest.
And he would see Evangelina when he got the chance.
If he got the chance.
In the meantime, there were cannibals at large, demanding Bolan's full attention. He was carrying the fire. And someone in Miami was about to feel the heat.
15
Raoul Ornelas listened to the ringing of the telephone on the other end, his anger and frustration mounting by the moment.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
On the tenth ring he slammed down the receiver, cursing under his breath. It was a gesture out of place with the man's normal sense of control, but he could feel the cool slipping, giving way to the bottled emotions that he felt inside.
He had been trying to reach Julio Rivera, his second-in-command, all morning, ever since the news reports had started coming in, and so far there had been no answer.
Frustration gave way to puzzlement and Ornelas frowned. It was not like Julio to be away from home throughout the morning hours; even when he spent the evening with a woman, Julio
As he spoke the soldier aimed an index finger at her pretty face, the fingertip coming to rest between her eyes.
She shivered at his touch but did not pull away.
Bolan bored in, unrelenting, hating the hurt he had put in her eyes, knowing there was no soft way around the obstacle.
"You ever slit a throat, Evangelina? Do you know the way it feels to saw through flesh and gristle like you're carving a roast, except the roast's still fighting for its life?"
A single tear made a glistening track across one cheek.
"I've never killed a man," she said, the voice soft, shaking. "But I could. I know it."
"Don't be eager," Bolan told her, letting softness creep into his voice now.
He cupped her face gently in his palm, tenderly wiping away the tear.
"I am a soldier," she repeated.
"Fine. So live to fight another day."
She was resisting, but more weakly now.
"I choose my fights," she said softly, tearfully.
And Bolan knew he had her now.
"Sorry. This one's taken."
"And if I refuse to stay behind?"
It was a question more than a challenge. He could sense that most of the fight had drained out of her now.
"I don't have time to argue with you now," he said. "You know what I say is true." He paused, letting that sink in, waiting until she nodded, a barely perceptible motion of her head. "I'll need your car keys."
Another moment's hesitation, then she fished around inside her purse, finally coming out with them and handing them over to Bolan. He turned toward Hannon, frowning, knowing he had put the former captain of detectives on the spot.
"I'll be back when I can," he said.
If I can.
And Bolan pushed the grim, defeatist thought away from him as he shook hands with Hannon at the door. Behind the ex-cop, he could see Evangelina watching him, but she did not respond when Bolan waved his hand in parting.
"We'll be here," Hannon told him, glancing briefly at the lady.
Evangelina nodded, finally.
"Si."
And Bolan put that house behind him, hoping those two good people would be safe along the sidelines of his war. There were no guarantees, he knew, but at the same time he had done his utmost, short of backing off completely while he saw the lady to some haven out of town or out of state.
There was no time for backing off or backing down, the warrior knew from grim experience. The battle had been joined there in Miami, and although he still had no firm handle on the situation, he knew that there was only one direction he could travel on the hellfire trail.
His course was dead ahead and damn the enemy's defenses. The Executioner had come to shake Miami, and nothing short of death would stop him from accomplishing that aim.
He was rattling Miami, see what fell out of the vipers' nest.
And he would see Evangelina when he got the chance.
If he got the chance.
In the meantime, there were cannibals at large, demanding Bolan's full attention. He was carrying the fire. And someone in Miami was about to feel the heat.
15
Raoul Ornelas listened to the ringing of the telephone on the other end, his anger and frustration mounting by the moment.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
On the tenth ring he slammed down the receiver, cursing under his breath. It was a gesture out of place with the man's normal sense of control, but he could feel the cool slipping, giving way to the bottled emotions that he felt inside.
He had been trying to reach Julio Rivera, his second-in-command, all morning, ever since the news reports had started coming in, and so far there had been no answer.
Frustration gave way to puzzlement and Ornelas frowned. It was not like Julio to be away from home throughout the morning hours; even when he spent the evening with a woman, Julio
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