Save the Children by Don Pendleton Page B

been here," Tess answered in a strained voice. "I don't know if I should talk about him..."
    "Tess, have they ever filmed kid porn here?"
    She forgot her fear and her eyes flashed angrily at him.
    "Look here, whatever the hell your name is, I do this sort of thing for the cameras once in a while when I'm short on the rent, okay? I'm not a pervert."
    "Do you know of any films like that being shot here?"
    She cooled down a little.
    "I... never heard about it. I wouldn't have worked for those creeps if I had. They were weird enough as it was!"
    Bolan quickly assimilated the things the woman told him.
    Tess could be lying about Owens's leaving the warehouse. He could still be hiding out somewhere in the building, if not on this floor then on one of those above. He just as quickly rejected those thoughts. The woman's manner and the sounds he'd heard of a car starting up just after Owens had fled, made him decide Tess was speaking the truth about the porno director having fled.
    Bolan started past Tess, toward the outside metal door. "Take your friends and go," he advised her on his way out.
    She hurried away in search of her friends, Babs and Rudy.
    Bolan looked around, taking in the surroundings.
    A few incendiary grenades would do the trick and send Parelli's warehouse up like kindling, but to do that Bolan would have to wait and make sure that the three actors were safely away, and he could not afford to waste the time.
    He still had an appointment with Randy Owens at a bar called Jimmy Kidd's, next to a massage parlor called Sheba's.
    Bolan pushed through the doorway, into the bitter cold.
    Outside, the night was waiting.

8
    Randy Owens was scared.
    He parked his Lancia one block away from Jimmy Kidd's, the closest space he could find in the after-show crush. His legs were shaky as he hurried along the sidewalk toward the bar. He could not get that awful image out of his mind, the way that Bolan guy had looked when Randy and Carson came out of the office.
    Owens had not even considered doing anything except running. And he had not looked back. He didn't want to know.
    All he wanted now was a drink and a place to hide out for a while. He thought about calling Denise when he got inside, then the ache in his groin reminded him that maybe it wasn't such a great idea, not after what had happened earlier at the house. It had been bad enough after he and Denise Parelli had forced their way out of the closet where Bolan had stashed them.
    Randy still felt queasy from the knee in his crotch and from being knocked unconscious by Bolan, but he did have enough presence of mind to realize he was on the Parellis' hit list as well as Bolan's.
    The realization made him feel worse. He fought off the panic that threatened to take control.
    A biting wind stung his face as he hurried toward the entrance of Jimmy Kidd's.
    A flashing neon sign above the door announced the name of the place, but that was the only decoration on the squat little brick building.
    The bar was only one side of the building. Next door housed Sheba's.
    He pushed open the heavy wooden door and was glad when it swung softly shut behind him. He shuddered briefly. And it was not only from the cold. Sure, it felt good to be out of the chill wind, but it felt even better to be where Bolan would not find him.
    Jimmy supplied his barmen with shotguns, which were kept under the bar. All of the employees in Jimmy's and Sheba's were well acquainted with handling trouble and not just obnoxious drunk trouble, either. The bartenders also carried handguns tucked under their aprons. Many high-ranking mobsters frequented Jimmy Kidd's. They had to feel secure here. They wouldn't have it any other way.
    The pub was low-ceilinged and paneled with dark wood, creating an atmosphere that was supposed to be cozy but that actually bordered on the claustrophobic.
    The closed-in feeling was just what Owens wanted, he realized. He seemed safer, somehow, than being outside in the night, running for