Battle Mask (Executioner)
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With a new face and an old foe, the Executioner sets out to avenge his friends Of the ten members of Mack Bolan s death squad, formed to take the war against the Mafia to a bloody new level, seven are dead and two are in jail. Only Bolan, the crack sniper known as the Executioner, remains. There is a $100,000 bounty on his head, and every cop in Los Angeles is on his tail. After narrowly escaping a Mafia assault on his hideout, Bolan decides to lose his greatest liability: his face. With the help of a former army surgeon, Bolan s chiseled jaw and steely eyes are transformed into the features of someone unrecognizable and decidedly Sicilian. With trademark cunning, Bolan infiltrates the syndicate that butchered his friends, cozying up to the boss s daughter in search of vengeance. Soon his new face, like the one before it, will strike terror into the hearts of mafiosi everywhere."
was thinking about it. He said, "I've been among the wounded before, Jim. It'll have to be that way this time. It's no go if I have to lay around here for days afterward. I have to keep moving." "I suppose you could," Brantzen replied thoughtfully. "If you're tough enough," he added again. "How long before the scars are healed?" Brantzen smiled. "The technique I have in mind will leave only tiny slits here and there, Mack. Except, possibly, for the nose, and I'd say that would be the last to
picked up a waiting suitcase, carried it outside and across the patio, and tossed it onto the seat of a black sedan. He started the engine, left it idling quietly, and went back to the forward wall of the patio. There he lined up a collection of flare-shells, checked the azimuth and scale settings of a small cannon-like object, and immediately dropped in a shell. The tube belched a puff of smoke and gave out a soft whump. Bolan quickly re-set the azimuth and dropped in another shell, and was
sweep, and affixed the continuous-fire mechanism he had devised only hours earlier. The heavy staccato of the big fifty began lacing the air, the muzzle swinging freely between the stops under the impetus of its own eruptions. Satisfied that the device was operating properly, Bolan sprinted for his car, climbed behind the far wheel, and gunned out across the parking lot in a spray of gravel. He hit the driveway with lights out and in whining traction. Just as he entered the periphery of
there. Chapter Ten THE LAMBRETTA MASK Ten days had elapsed since the fracas at Palm Village and still Lou Pena had not returned to the Palm Springs estate of Julian DiGeorge. A brief message had come back on the evening of October 5th carried by a painfully wounded Willie Walker: "Lou says to tell you he'll be back when he's got Bolan's head in a sack." DiGeorge promptly doubled his palace guard and spent several days in cautious seclusion. On October 10th, he summoned the convalescing
how DiGeorge's people located Bolan here, but obviously they did. They tripped the alarms, though, and Bolan was ready for them. We found two burned-out parachute-type flares out there near the road. The lab men are still going over the wrecked vehicles. Preliminary findings indicate that he cut down on them with a high-powered rifle, undoubtedly that Mauser over there." Lyons led his captain to the end of the patio wall and showed him the machine gun. "But now, here's the kicker. Look at the way