Salvador Strike by Don Pendleton & Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton & Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2009-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

12

Under normal circumstances, Bolan would never have allowed a young woman to talk him into what Missy proposed. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

Time to put down MS-13 and pick up Cristobal’s tail was short, and in turn so likely was the life of Ignacio Paz. Missy had been to Charlie Camano’s residence, just as the Executioner suspected, and she convinced him the only way he could get inside would be to pose as a pimp looking for a job. Bolan wondered at first about her motivation until Missy told him of her younger sister, the chief reason she worked in the profession she did, and even took him to meet her.

The young, dirty-faced girl couldn’t have been more than half Missy’s age. She was quiet and unassuming and looked at Bolan with frightened eyes. Missy stayed in a run-down tenement on the west side of Love Row along with others like her, which is where she’d been heading during her flight from Bolan. The girl, whose name was Samantha, didn’t say more than two words to Bolan the entire time. Missy excused herself to draw a bath for the girl and then returned to where she left Bolan seated, which served as TV room, playroom and dining room. Only a half wall separated that single room from the kitchen.

Bolan had noticed the peeling paint on the walls, the holes patched with drywall compound, the dust and decay of the room in general. He also took note of the meager furnishings. The top of a dilapidated TV tray had been mounted atop a flimsy wooden crate and now served as a sort of play table for the little girl; crayons, a couple of tattered books and dress-up doll that was missing an arm adorned it. The television had rabbit ears and looked to be at least twenty years old. Bolan doubted it even worked, seeing as there was no digital converter box in sight.

When Missy returned from the bathroom, Bolan reached into his pocket and withdrew all the cash he had, a small amount he’d pulled from the massive funds of his war chest. He set it on the scarred, dinette table and looked Missy in the eyes.

“There’s about ten thousand dollars there,” he said. “It’s yours.”

“I don’t need charity,” she replied immediately and padded into the kitchen.

Bolan stood and followed her to the kitchen entrance where he leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “It’s not charity, it’s payment.”

She stopped and eyed him suspiciously. “For what?”

“Helping me get to Chico.”

That brought a smile to her lips. “You sure that’s all you’re looking for?”

“I’m not interested in sampling your personal wares, if that’s the implication,” Bolan said. “That money’s more than enough to give you a new start. I meant what I said about getting you out of here, taking the chance to start over.”

Missy appeared to think about his words but then didn’t say anything else. Instead, she turned and busied herself pulling a frying pan from a cupboard next to the stove, and withdrawing some eggs and a slab of bacon from the refrigerator.

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