Save the Children by Don Pendleton Page A

him.
    Carson's body slammed back and he fell, joining his three men in death on the dirty floor.
    Bolan's eyes searched the shadows around him for Owens. He heard running footsteps echoing from the back of the building.
    One of the actresses shouted from that direction.
    "Hey, wait a minute! Take us with you, goddamn it! Wait a minute!"
    A door slammed somewhere in the rear of the studio.
    Bolan raced in the direction of the noise. He heard a car door slam and an engine crank to life. He bit off a curse. He could not let Owens escape!
    "Hold it!"
    Bolan stopped, Big Thunder ready in his fist.
    A figure materialized out of the shadows and Bolan recognized him as the man who had been operating the camera. The guy held a pistol trained on Bolan. Bolan noticed that the gun was the one that the first goon had dropped when Bolan blew him away. The cameraman's hand was shaking as he pointed the weapon at the Executioner.
    "Put it down," the soldier ordered sharply. "My quarrel's not with you."
    "Not with me? Hell, the way you're shooting up the place, what does it matter who your quarrel's with?" the cameraman said. "I just want out of here!"
    "Then put the gun down and go," Bolan told the guy.
    "So you can shoot me in the back? No thanks!"
    The warrior looked at the young man for several seconds, then slid the AutoMag back into its holster.
    His quarrel tonight was not with a flunky who was guilty of no more than operating a camera.
    "Take off," he growled. "You won't get a better offer."
    The cameraman studied Bolan for a moment, gulped nervously, then bent and gingerly placed the pistol on the floor. Then he turned and bolted for the nearest exit.
    Bolan followed, alert for any traps that might be waiting for him.
    Nothing happened until he almost reached a narrow door in the rear corner of the building.
    Then a woman bumped into him.
    It was Tess. She gave a choked, panicky cry, pummeling his chest with her small fists.
    "Let me go, let me go!" she wailed.
    Bolan gave her a firm but gentle shove that sent her staggering away from him.
    "I don't have you," he pointed out. "Where's Randy?"
    She had donned a silk wrap that fell open with the push. She jerked it tightly about her, clasping the see-through material closed and folding her arms across her chest.
    "He ran out on us, the rotten son of a bitch!" she raged. "He said if we were ever raided, he'd stick with us, that dirty lying bastard!"
    "Did he actually leave, or is he still here somewhere?"
    "I saw him drive off. He had his car parked out there behind some garbage cans. A good place for slime like him to park, if you ask me."
    "Where are your friends, Babs and Rudy?"
    The brunette threw a glance over her shoulder.
    "Scared to come out of the dressing room. They're hiding under the bed. Hey, you're not a cop at all, are you?" She stepped back, her apprehension mounting.
    "I came for Owens, not you," he assured her.
    That did not convince her. She started trembling.
    "Oh, mister... please... we heard the shooting but we haven't seen anything. I haven't seen you, okay? Please let us go..."
    "I'm not going to hurt you," he said firmly. "Where would Owens be likely to go?"
    Tess swallowed and hugged herself.
    Here in the back of the warehouse, away from the hot lights, there was a chill in the air.
    "He... he hangs out at a bar on Rush Street," she told him. "A place called Jimmy Kidd's. Right next to a massage parlor called Sheba's. They're both part of the same operation."
    "Why would Owens go there?"
    "He'd feel safe there if he was scared and on the run. Jimmy and Sheba would see to that. And he sure looked scared when he hauled ass on his way out of here. Ran right past me!"
    "Jimmy and Sheba. They own the setup?"
    A nod of the dark head.
    "They run the place. I think Randy's real boss is that Mr. Parelli."
    Bolan took a step closer to her at that statement.
    She flinched but stayed where she was, clutching the wrap to her throat.
    "What do you know about Parelli?"
    "He's