CHAPTER 3: SAVAGE WORLD
After wreaking havoc in Chicago, Marcus Bolan returned to Portage, Mi. This is where the majority of his gear that has been supplied by the CIA was stored. While there, he decided that the house of his parents was no longer safe. Since he was wanted for desertion from the U.S. Navy, I wouldn't be long until this house became property of the U.S. Government. So, he rented a house under one of the many Ids provided to him by Hal Brognola and moved everything. He moved Alexis in with him, and supplied her with everything she would need to live on. After this he informed Firecracker of his intentions. These intentions were to hit Sal Damino of Dallas, Texas since he was likely to be installed as the next Boss of Bosses. Hitting Sal in Dallas also made since because that would prevent Marcus from setting up a geological trail for The Commission to figure out who he was after next.
*****
Immediately after arriving in his hotel room in Dallas, Marcus dropped his gear and made contact with Firecracker.
" Firecracker, its Junior reporting in on my last op. The target was neutralized, along with many other unfriendly sorts. I have arrived to my next assignment." Bolan stated.
"What's your situation there?" Hal asked on the other end of the line.
"Not good this far. Unlike my last target, these targets are on a ranch and not a house really open to the street. I have as of yet, not been able to recon it effectively. What kind of assistance can you provide me?" Marcus answered.
"The agency is unable to provide any. Your goals are generally not in our realm of worry. I will however check it other agencies that are familiar with your line of work and get back to you." Hal informed.
"I guess that will have to work. Junior out." Bolan said with obvious disappointment in his voice and hung up the phone.
After hanging up, Marcus put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his palms. "How am I going to hit these guys when I know nothing about them." He thought.
*****
Two days later, just as Marcus is beginning to go stir crazy in his hotel room a package arrived for a Mr. Allen Marksville, which was the name he was registered under from a collectors shop in Washington D.C.
Marcus chuckled and wondered just how Hal knew what name he was registered under. Was American intelligence really that good?
It was just a matter of seconds before surveillance photographs and reports from the F.B.I were spread all over his room. He read a letter from Hal, which said, "Junior, I'm sure that you will find the contents of this package more useful then anything that I could have told you over the phone. I believe that this is everything and more that you will need to know to make your op there successful. If however you do find yourself in need of anything else, don't hesitate to contact me. I'm always as your disposal. Firecracker."
While sorting through the information, he learned many things about the Damino family. First, that they are two of their biggest incomes are from producing porn movies, and prostitution. To supply the fresh supply of women for these ventures the family owns a strip club which is operated by the families youngest son John "one eye" Damino, the name one eye came from his loosing an eye in a training accident during his short stint in the U.S. Marine Corps, and a dance club which was ran by the Sal's oldest son Adam. The family was also suspected of dabbling in kiddy porn but the FBI lacked sufficient evidence to make a strong enough case for the federal prosecutors. He learned of Sal's two other sons who from all evidence appeared to be no more then strong men for their father with no real potential for advancement into family leadership like Adam and John. He learned about the family's underboss. He learned which family members go to which restraunts on which days. He learned, just as Hal had promised, everything and more that he would need to know for this op. Of most interest to Marcus though, was the report into the investigation of the Bolan executions. In this report, Adam and John were listed as the most likely suspects. The F.B.I couldn't say for certain which of them were in on the hit, but all evidence pointed to one of the two of them.
Marcus took a break from his work and stepped outside of his hotel room to take a walk in the humid evening air and enjoy a cigarette. "I have three people in Dallas to play avenging angel with. This could get fun." He thought.
*****
The next night Marcus sat in the Pleasure Palace, which is the strip club owned by the Damino family. For being this early it was full to capacity of drooling patrons. The reason for coming this early was so that he could see One Eye Damino come and then take him out, but it wasn't going to be as easy as expected.
Dancer after dancer offered Bolan either a topless table dance or a special dance in the back room. Bolan wanted to, after all he may be the angel of death for John Damino tonight, but he was still a guy, and all of the dancers in this club were above average looking women. He foremost had to keep his eyes trained not on the women but on the other guys in the club until he could find his target. Marcus also wouldn't allow himself to pay one of these ladies to dance for him because he knew who is money would be going to, the very people who killed his parents and more then likely dozens to hundreds of other people over the years. You couldn't become a made member of the mob without having at least one hit under your belt, so Mr. John "One Eye" Damino was a far cry from being an innocent.
Marcus once again opened the cover of the porn magazine he bought to conceal his photograph of One Eye. He had never seen the man in person and wanted to be sure that he had a positive identification of him before taking any action so that he didn't accidentally hurt an innocent. He looked at the photograph and then scanned the club; he looked at the photograph and then scanned the club.
Finally he saw his target, standing at the bar talking to some of the club's bouncers.
"This club has a lot of bouncers. I can't tell if they are armed or not. I had better be careful in how I do this." Marcus thought.
Marcus sat there for two extra hours, trying to be discreet and blend into the crowd. Then finally his chance came; he was One Eye head for the club's entrance with a particularly attractive dancer. Bolan stood up, placed a generous tip on the table for the waitress and followed them out.
In the parking lot, Bolan cleared his throat loudly and said, "Excuse me sir?" to John Damino.
Damino turned around and said, "Get out of here."
However before he could turn back around Marcus pulled his unsilenced Magnum 357 out of his jacket and fired two shots into John Damino's chest at point blank range making an awful mess of him and his car behind him. Bolan chose not to use the silencer on his hit because he wanted as many people as he get to find the body.
Marcus dropped the marksman medal on the corpse of John "One Eye" Damino and turned his attention to the exotic dancer who was in hysterics. To her he said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. However, I do want you to spread word that Mack Bolan is back and he is coming for Mr. Damino. Do you understand me?"
She nodded her head in a wordless yes and Marcus disappeared down the street to where his van was parked.
*****
The next day, the three surviving Damino sons, don Sal Damino and the family's underboss Arnold Vechi stood in the den of the main house on the Damino ranch. Charlie, Mike and Adam Damino discussed their current situation with Vechi while the don stood in his own world.
"All I know is that whoever this guy is, he sure made a mess of the Caparones up in Chicago." Arnold said.
"We know who it is. It is Mack Bolan, the dancer said so herself." Charlie said.
"It is not Mack Bolan. I was there. He is as cold as a frozen pizza." Adam retorted.
"It doesn't matter right now who it is. What we have to learn is why? Why is this maniac coming after the most powerful families? Doesn't he realize that after that Caparone affair, the rest of us would be paying attention? Why us? There are a lot easier families to hit, like the Caparones who are centered in a house open to the street. Why try to hit a family centered on a ranch? He has to know that he won't survive." Arnold said.
"But before we can answer that, we need to know who it is, or who they are." Adam answered again.
"Word among our boys is that it is the ghost of Mack Bolan, coming back for to revenge this own death. Right the last wrong done to him." Mike said.
Then, unexpectedly don Damino chimed in, "What is this? What talk is this from my own blood? Ghosts? Come on, if your mamma heard this, her heart would be even more broken then it is now over Johnny."
With these words, everyone became quite.
"Now, your brother Adam, he is a good boy. He would not come back here and tell me that Bolan was dead if he wasn't. I want no more Bolan talk. What it is is another family. They know I'm to be the next boss of bosses, but they want the power to themselves. The question is, which family is it?"
"No family has any reason to cross us pop. We've always been straight in our dealins with them." Mike Damino said.
"Power alone is a sufficient reason." Sal answered.
"Then why would they pretend to be Mack Bolan?" Arnold asked his boss.
Sal Damino chuckled, "Simple. To throw us off. They want us looking for someone who isn't there. That way, the can waltz around us and take us out at their leisure and we'd know none the better."
Once again silence ensued the room.
Sal broke the silence by saying, "Arnie. Find out who is here. We have people at the airports, and the hotel and we own the taxi companies. Find out which families are represented in Dallas and take them for a little check up with The Doc."
"As you wish Mr. Damino." Vechi replied.
More silence controlled the room.
Vechi broke it this time by saying, " Not to change the topic. But we can't let this Bolan situation distract us from our other business. We still have the undercover cop nosing about."
Sal Damino scratched his head and said, "Take him and give him to The Doc. Once The Doc is finished with him, dump the body right on the front steps of the cop shop. I want them to know that if they try to put someone inside of us, that person will die. And not only die, but in the worst way we can arrange."
*****
As this conference was occurring, Marcus was only yards away from the Damino Ranch with the hood of a Champaign colored Chrysler La Baron. While he looked like he was working on making a quick repair to keep a break down running he really had a small spotting scope set up under the hood and he was keeping an eye on the goings on of the Damino Ranch.
His curiosity was caught when he was Arnold Vechi, Mike Damino and someone that he had never seen before leave the main house and get into a car.
Bolan pulled the spotting scope from the engine compartment of the car and closed the hood. He then got into the La Baron and followed their car.
*****
They pulled up outside of a non-descript concrete building, which had no markings of any kind other than other then the graffiti that the street taggers left behind to show that they were there. Marcus was parked a discrete distance from the building. It wouldn't do to be seen and have to fight his way out of a bad situation this early in the game. He did however; notice the worried look on the face of the man he hadn't seen anything on in the F.B.I file.
It wasn't long until Vechi and Damino came out of the building minus the third unknown guy. Marcus sat there for several hours just observing. When there was absolutely no movement from the building he decided to take a closer look.
Not knowing what to expect, Marcus took his 357, his silenced Beretta, a sawed off shotgun that was slung to his shoulder and 5 hand grenades just for good measure, all of which were well concealed under the leather duster he wore.
Marcus walked from his parking space up to the cement buildings door, which very much to his surprise was unlocked. He let himself in and found himself in a long hallway that hadn't had any upkeep done to it in years. He unholstered the Berretta and cleared each room as he came to it.
"Whatever reason the mob keeps this building, it sure has limited usage." He thought to himself as he noticed each room being completely bare of any furniture.
When he reached the last room he opened the door quickly to surprise its occupants since he hadn't as of yet had any contacts, he knew he would in this room with his Berretta at the ready.
The door flew open and Marcus quickly swept the room. The only potential threat in the room was a short, almost anorexic looking guy, in his mid to late 50's, with very thick glasses who was wearing a blood stained lab coat. This guy was washing his hands as Bolan entered to room and very quickly complied with Bolan's order to lay on the ground face down with his legs spread and hands on the back of his head.
Bolan looked around the room and noticed the room while far from being sterile was set up a lot like a doctor's office. He saw tools that you would see in an operating room, he saw just about every tool you could buy at a hardware store. As a matter of fact, just about anything that could smash, cut, dice or slice was in this room. All lovingly stored in it's own place.
On the bed you usually see in the doctor's office was the third guy who had entered with Vechi and the Damino boy. He was strapped to the bed completely nude. His eyes had been removed from their sockets and lay on the floor. His teeth appeared to have been pulled out one at a time. On a little stand next to the bed was a cigar cutter, which Marcus assumed by the blood on it, had been used to chop off his fingers one at a time. The poor man's manhood had been removed. Areas of flesh all over his body had been cut and then ripped backwards while other areas of flesh had just been cut out with almost surgical precision. All of this appeared to have been done without the assistance of any thing to kill the pain.
Marcus walked over and checked the "patient's" pulse and found none. Mercifully the man was already dead. He walked over to the guy lying on the floor and with the Berretta pointing at him, said, "Get up now. Slowly."
Trembling the little man did as he was told.
"Who are you?" Bolan asked in a short-tempered type of way.
"I'm Leo Vanduchi." The little man answered.
"You did this?" Marcus asked.
"Yes sir." Leo answered.
"Why?" Marcus continued his inquiry.
"He was on a turkey order."
"What do you mean? What is a turkey order?"
Leo chuckled and said, "You really don't know anything do you."
"Why don't you just consider me a tourist and give the grand tour." Was Marcus's retort.
Leo took his glasses off and cleaned them, "I'm what is called a turkey doctor. The family brings people to me that need to be made an example of. They are brought here and I make turkey out of them." He said waving his hand towards his latest work on the table, with a hint of pride.
"At what point do you grant them death?" Marcus asked.
Leo shrugged, "I don't. That's entirely up to them. Whenever they can't take anymore and die."
With a feeling of disgust for this little man Bolan continued by asking, "You said you're a doctor. Are you really?"
"Well, I started medical school but got kicked out. They said that I wasn't right in the head. That I enjoyed cutting things up too much. I believe that the word sadistic was used on my actual transcript." Is how he replied.
"I see. I have to say that I fully agree with the school." Marcus said targeting Leo with his silenced Berretta and ended this torture spree life. "It is truly a savage world you have chosen to live and die in.
At this point, Marcus decided that after he had finished dismantling The Commission, these turkey doctors were going to become a major target of his war, and that the Battle of Dallas wouldn't be over until Arnold Vechi and Mike Damino paid for what they had put this poor guy through. Regardless of who he was or what he did, he did not deserve an end like this.
To claim full credit for the kill, Marcus dropped a marksmen medal on the body that was once Leo Vanduchi and left the building.
On the way back from The Doc's Marcus wasn't paying attention to his speed and quickly noticed the flashing red and blue lights behind him. He complied with the request that the lights were making and pulled the La Baron over to the side of the road.
A young police officer, who couldn't have been on the force for more then a year walked up to the car. Marcus had the Allen Marksville Ids ready.
The first thing out of the young officer's mouth with excitement was, "You're the guy."
Marcus looked at him with a puzzled look and said, "Excuse me officer?"
"From Chicago. The guy who put the Caparone's through the meat grinder. You're him."
A feeling of dread covered Marcus Bolan.
"Officer, you've mistaken me for someone else. I don't know anything about any Caparones and I've never been north of North Carolina." He lied.
"Nah, no way buddy. You are him. That stripper gave as a very good description the night that One Eye Damino died. And you look just like the face on the sketch. Your him." The rookie police officer said with obvious excitement.
Bolan sighed, "Ok officer. Your right." He said preparing to drop the car into drive and speed off.
"Its an honor to meet you sir. It's a real good thing you're doing. About time someone takes it to these guys on their own terms. I get sick of seeing them get away with crime after crime, but getting away with it because they know just exactly how our hands are tied. You wouldn't be looking for a partner would you?" The young cop congratulated.
Bolan obviously relieved chuckled and said, "Thanks young man, but this is a personal war and I wouldn't feel right taking a partner. All that is ahead of me and anyone who joins me is a sure fire death. It's too late for me, the die is cast and I will eventually go out in a blaze of glory. You on the other hand, you can still have a long life ahead of you with a wife, children and grandchildren. Just keep doing things with your hands tied, keep your nose clean and you'll live a lot longer."
"Well sir. Know that you always have a friend in Dallas. You're a good man and I wish you nothing but the best of luck. Just watch your back, there are a lot of us who think the way I do, but there are a few who hope to bring you in and make a name for themselves." The young police officer said.
"Thank you for the heads up. Please, if you tell anyone of this, let everyone know that I consider us soldiers on the same side of the battle. While I won't let myself be taken alive, I will never fire on a police officer. If one of your guys tries to take me in, they will have to shoot me in the back because I will run." Marcus said.
The two shook hands and parted friends and allies.
That night, Bolan entered the Meat Market, which is the club owned by the Damino family and run by Adam Damino.
Marcus sat there, slowly drinking a Bud Ice watching the events of the club. Much to his pleasured surprised Charlie and Mike Damino were also patrons in the bar this night. Their fatal mistake to make. Marcus left the club for about a half hour, came back and ordered another beer.
Then he saw the main target of tonight's op. Adam Damino was walking around the club, apparently just seeing how things were going. Marcus watched him make his rounds and then walk to his office in the back.
The avenging angel stood up and followed Adam to his office. Before opening the door, he pulled the silenced Beretta from under his jacket. Then he casually opened the door as if he did it on a nightly basis, stepped in the office and closed the door behind him.
"What are you doing in here?" Adam challenged.
"Adam, Adam, Adam. Your brother John wasn't very nice to me and look at where he is now." Was Bolan's reply as he took a bead on Adam with the Beretta.
"You are a dead man." Adam said.
Marcus shrugged, "Maybe, but then so are you." He said firing three shots into Adam's chest.
Bolan dropped a Marksman medal into the wine glass Adam Damino had been drinking out of and turned to face the assistant club manager and said, "I've got no problem with you. So do as I say and you will live to be an old man, or at least you will not die by my hand. Understand me?"
The assistant club manager shook his head in acknowledgement.
"Good. Now I want you to wait in this room for one hour before leaving. When you do, tell everyone you meet that Mack Bolan is back and is not happy with Mr. Damino. If you leave this room before the hour is up, I will know and I will kill you on the spot. Understand me?"
The assistant club manager once again shook his head in acknowledgement; he stopped off at the bartender and left word for the two surviving Damino brothers of a much better party. After doing this, he made his exit from the club.
As soon as they heard about the new party, both Damino brothers left the club with a woman each and got in their car. As soon as Mike turned the car on, it went up in a loud explosion. Pieces of car landing everywhere damaging the cars of other patrons and the brief flair up of flames showed bright. In that second, Mike and Charlie Damino joined Adam and John Damino in preceding their father in death.
Wasting no time after taking out the last of the Damino brothers Marcus got to the other end of town where Arnold Vechi was eating his monthly Mexican meal at a restraunt that was also owned by the family and was a crew hang out.
Marcus sat in his van outside the place until he saw Arnold Vechi and another made man come out. Then he stepped out of the van with his sawed off shotgun and sent both mobsters to meet the Damino boys and Felix Caparone. Before leaving however he did award both of them a marksman medal.
After that night's work was done, Marcus Bolan returned to his hotel room where after a shower, and a quick bite to eat he turned on the news so that he could catch the breaking story of his latest handy work and turned his attention to the information provided by Hal Brognola.
He began removing all Intel on those who he had awarded the Marksmen Medal of Death to. Photos, reports, everything was removed because it no longer did him any good to have it.
His focus was mainly on Sal Damino, mostly his day-to-day habits and the ranch including the house in general but more specifically it's defenses.
"Well Mr. Damino. You haven't been seen off your ranch in over two years. How am I going to get to you?" He thought.
As he studied the intelligence Marcus heard on the T.V., "This just in. A major blow has been dealt to the Damino crime family here in Dallas. In one night, it lost 4 of its main members and 3 of its working class arm. Adam Damino was shot in his office at the Meat Market dance club and whoever did it walked out of the club unnoticed by anyone but the club's assistant manager who said that it was no other but the believed dead Mack Bolan. Also occurring at the Meat Market was a car explosion in its parking lot. Inside the car were Mike and Charlie Damino along with two of the prostitutes that are believed to be under the umbrella of the Damino's family's illegal income. As if this wasn't bad enough, on the other side of town Arnold Vechi, the underboss of the Damino family was gunned down along with Antonio Marsa who is a known soldier in the Damino family. With the death of John Damino earlier this week, the family's Godfather Sal Damino doesn't have any more sons to leave his legacy or corruption and crime to. This comes just weeks after the Caparone family was just about destroyed in Chicago. From the reports we have received, marksman medals just like the one's used by the infamous Mack Bolan during his one man war in the late 60s and early 70s, have been left on the bodies here in Dallas, and on the bodies of the mob dead in Chicago. Is Mack Bolan back to seek revenge for his own attempted murder? We don't know but we will bring you more news on this as it occurs."
Marcus smiled to himself and went back to work studied his information and formulating a plan of a final strike here in Dallas.
"The information here on the number of people on the ranch is sketchy at best. What this tells me about the security on the ranch appears to be very understated. A man like Sal Damino would have better protection then this. And I can't find a thing about security on the house."
He spent a few more hours pouring over the information he had received, but only became more and more frustrated. Finally he stood up and stepped out the door sitting in the fresh air with an Arial photo of the ranch it's self and lit a cigarette. "I'm going to have to create some big distraction to get everyone one the ranch in one location at one time. I have no choice but to blitz the house just like in Chicago, but I don't want to go into in completely blind. I won't be able to know where exact guard posts are, but I will be able to see how many people come from where." He thought to himself.
The next morning on the Damino Ranch, Sal and his chief bodyguard were spending hours on horseback discussing business all over the ranch so that no one else could hear.
"I spent all last night trying to comfort poor Helena. We have lost all our boys now." Sal was saying.
" Don Damino, I can't begin to say how sorry I am for your loss." The bodyguard began.
He was cut off by Sal who said, "Then don't. I don't want condolences, I want whose ever is doing this head on a platter by the end of the day."
"Sir, we will get his head. But I think we should get you out of Dallas and to the Crawford Ranch until we get him. I can't guarantee we will have him by the end of today, and no place in Dallas is safe for you now. I dare say not even here on the ranch. If we move you secretly to the Crawford Ranch. And I mean secret. Only me, you, and a select few others will know about it. That way there are no leaks. It will take at least a week for whoever is doing this to figure out your not here. We will have him by then." The bodyguard answered.
Sal considered this for a few minutes and said, "Yes. I think your right. I have a couple of things I need to wrap up here, but I can be ready to go by Tuesday afternoon."
"No sooner boss?" The bodyguard asked.
Damino sighed, "I regret not. I have to take care of the final arrangements for my boys."
That night, Marcus Bolan dressed in full battle regalia was fully intent on sneaking onto the Damino Ranch. He came right up to the metal chain length fence and examined it for alarms. Seeing that there was none, he took out bolt cutters and cut a hole barely big enough for him to crawl through in the fence, "Sloppy security." He thought as he breached the ranch.
He crawled forward, scouting the path to his destination first. He only saw one guard who was sitting in a jeep meant for patrol sound asleep. He quietly cut the guard's throat in his sleep making it so he would never have to worry about waking up again and tossed a marksman medal on the jeep's dashboard.
Then he quietly, but faster then before moved back to the hole he had made in the fence line and pulled his sniper rife and 8 gallons of gasoline through the hole.
After this he moved to the pole barn used by the Damino's for storage and poured gasoline around the interior and exterior of the building. Then he made a long trail of gasoline leading away from the pole barn. When he felt he as at a safe distance, Marcus took his lighter and lit the gasoline.
As soon as this was done, he quickly moved to the area he had chosen for his sniper's nest which was 500 yards to the east of the barn. The plan was once there to use the scope on the sniper rifle to count how many Mafioso came running to the fire and to make note of where they came from. He had opted to bring the sniper rifle along instead of a spotting scope just incase his target of opportunity showed his up, be Bolan highly doubted this would occur.
It wasn't long until his plan began to work. Made men came from all over, deserting their posts, to the fire. Marcus counted each person as they showed up, being very careful not to count the same man more then once and made a mental note to the best of his ability where everyone came from.
Then the unexpected happened. Mr. Target of Opportunity Sal Damino stepped out of the house with two of his bodyguards.
"Mr. Damino this is a bad idea. It is too much of a coincidence after some maniac taking out our men for that fire to be accidental. You should stay in the house until we can guarantee your safety." One of the bodyguards said.
"No, whoever this is wants me to be in the house away from all my best men. That way he can take me out without any of you knowing until later. No, I'm safer out here." Is how Sal replied.
A matter of seconds after saying these words a loud crack was heard and Sal Damino grasped his throat. A red liquid flowed heavily between his fingers. He slumped to the ground fighting to hold to life, but it was a fight he quickly lost.
As soon as Marcus Bolan got back to his hotel, he loaded his things into his van and hit the road. Things in Dallas were going to be getting extremely hot very shortly and it would be a mistake, possibly a fatal one to stay here any longer then he had to.
Driving down the freeway, with nothing to do but think, Bolan reflected, "What a mess you've gotten yourself into now Marcus. Deserted the U.S. Navy, you have fifteen confirmed kills in Chicago. Now another ten confirmed kills here in Dallas. That's twenty-five confirmed kills in less then a month, and it's only the beginning of your war. You still have four Mafia bosses to pay a visit to, and then you have to find out who gave the Vitale family it's information on where your parents were living. Then after that you have the turkey doctors. Then after that, you have whichever mafia made man is unfortunate enough to wander into your crosshairs. You know the truth; you're a soldier in a war. But you also know that the government will consider you no more then a common mass murderer if they catch you. Yes, this life you have chosen, and it is just beginning."
After wreaking havoc in Chicago, Marcus Bolan returned to Portage, Mi. This is where the majority of his gear that has been supplied by the CIA was stored. While there, he decided that the house of his parents was no longer safe. Since he was wanted for desertion from the U.S. Navy, I wouldn't be long until this house became property of the U.S. Government. So, he rented a house under one of the many Ids provided to him by Hal Brognola and moved everything. He moved Alexis in with him, and supplied her with everything she would need to live on. After this he informed Firecracker of his intentions. These intentions were to hit Sal Damino of Dallas, Texas since he was likely to be installed as the next Boss of Bosses. Hitting Sal in Dallas also made since because that would prevent Marcus from setting up a geological trail for The Commission to figure out who he was after next.
*****
Immediately after arriving in his hotel room in Dallas, Marcus dropped his gear and made contact with Firecracker.
" Firecracker, its Junior reporting in on my last op. The target was neutralized, along with many other unfriendly sorts. I have arrived to my next assignment." Bolan stated.
"What's your situation there?" Hal asked on the other end of the line.
"Not good this far. Unlike my last target, these targets are on a ranch and not a house really open to the street. I have as of yet, not been able to recon it effectively. What kind of assistance can you provide me?" Marcus answered.
"The agency is unable to provide any. Your goals are generally not in our realm of worry. I will however check it other agencies that are familiar with your line of work and get back to you." Hal informed.
"I guess that will have to work. Junior out." Bolan said with obvious disappointment in his voice and hung up the phone.
After hanging up, Marcus put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his palms. "How am I going to hit these guys when I know nothing about them." He thought.
*****
Two days later, just as Marcus is beginning to go stir crazy in his hotel room a package arrived for a Mr. Allen Marksville, which was the name he was registered under from a collectors shop in Washington D.C.
Marcus chuckled and wondered just how Hal knew what name he was registered under. Was American intelligence really that good?
It was just a matter of seconds before surveillance photographs and reports from the F.B.I were spread all over his room. He read a letter from Hal, which said, "Junior, I'm sure that you will find the contents of this package more useful then anything that I could have told you over the phone. I believe that this is everything and more that you will need to know to make your op there successful. If however you do find yourself in need of anything else, don't hesitate to contact me. I'm always as your disposal. Firecracker."
While sorting through the information, he learned many things about the Damino family. First, that they are two of their biggest incomes are from producing porn movies, and prostitution. To supply the fresh supply of women for these ventures the family owns a strip club which is operated by the families youngest son John "one eye" Damino, the name one eye came from his loosing an eye in a training accident during his short stint in the U.S. Marine Corps, and a dance club which was ran by the Sal's oldest son Adam. The family was also suspected of dabbling in kiddy porn but the FBI lacked sufficient evidence to make a strong enough case for the federal prosecutors. He learned of Sal's two other sons who from all evidence appeared to be no more then strong men for their father with no real potential for advancement into family leadership like Adam and John. He learned about the family's underboss. He learned which family members go to which restraunts on which days. He learned, just as Hal had promised, everything and more that he would need to know for this op. Of most interest to Marcus though, was the report into the investigation of the Bolan executions. In this report, Adam and John were listed as the most likely suspects. The F.B.I couldn't say for certain which of them were in on the hit, but all evidence pointed to one of the two of them.
Marcus took a break from his work and stepped outside of his hotel room to take a walk in the humid evening air and enjoy a cigarette. "I have three people in Dallas to play avenging angel with. This could get fun." He thought.
*****
The next night Marcus sat in the Pleasure Palace, which is the strip club owned by the Damino family. For being this early it was full to capacity of drooling patrons. The reason for coming this early was so that he could see One Eye Damino come and then take him out, but it wasn't going to be as easy as expected.
Dancer after dancer offered Bolan either a topless table dance or a special dance in the back room. Bolan wanted to, after all he may be the angel of death for John Damino tonight, but he was still a guy, and all of the dancers in this club were above average looking women. He foremost had to keep his eyes trained not on the women but on the other guys in the club until he could find his target. Marcus also wouldn't allow himself to pay one of these ladies to dance for him because he knew who is money would be going to, the very people who killed his parents and more then likely dozens to hundreds of other people over the years. You couldn't become a made member of the mob without having at least one hit under your belt, so Mr. John "One Eye" Damino was a far cry from being an innocent.
Marcus once again opened the cover of the porn magazine he bought to conceal his photograph of One Eye. He had never seen the man in person and wanted to be sure that he had a positive identification of him before taking any action so that he didn't accidentally hurt an innocent. He looked at the photograph and then scanned the club; he looked at the photograph and then scanned the club.
Finally he saw his target, standing at the bar talking to some of the club's bouncers.
"This club has a lot of bouncers. I can't tell if they are armed or not. I had better be careful in how I do this." Marcus thought.
Marcus sat there for two extra hours, trying to be discreet and blend into the crowd. Then finally his chance came; he was One Eye head for the club's entrance with a particularly attractive dancer. Bolan stood up, placed a generous tip on the table for the waitress and followed them out.
In the parking lot, Bolan cleared his throat loudly and said, "Excuse me sir?" to John Damino.
Damino turned around and said, "Get out of here."
However before he could turn back around Marcus pulled his unsilenced Magnum 357 out of his jacket and fired two shots into John Damino's chest at point blank range making an awful mess of him and his car behind him. Bolan chose not to use the silencer on his hit because he wanted as many people as he get to find the body.
Marcus dropped the marksman medal on the corpse of John "One Eye" Damino and turned his attention to the exotic dancer who was in hysterics. To her he said, "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. However, I do want you to spread word that Mack Bolan is back and he is coming for Mr. Damino. Do you understand me?"
She nodded her head in a wordless yes and Marcus disappeared down the street to where his van was parked.
*****
The next day, the three surviving Damino sons, don Sal Damino and the family's underboss Arnold Vechi stood in the den of the main house on the Damino ranch. Charlie, Mike and Adam Damino discussed their current situation with Vechi while the don stood in his own world.
"All I know is that whoever this guy is, he sure made a mess of the Caparones up in Chicago." Arnold said.
"We know who it is. It is Mack Bolan, the dancer said so herself." Charlie said.
"It is not Mack Bolan. I was there. He is as cold as a frozen pizza." Adam retorted.
"It doesn't matter right now who it is. What we have to learn is why? Why is this maniac coming after the most powerful families? Doesn't he realize that after that Caparone affair, the rest of us would be paying attention? Why us? There are a lot easier families to hit, like the Caparones who are centered in a house open to the street. Why try to hit a family centered on a ranch? He has to know that he won't survive." Arnold said.
"But before we can answer that, we need to know who it is, or who they are." Adam answered again.
"Word among our boys is that it is the ghost of Mack Bolan, coming back for to revenge this own death. Right the last wrong done to him." Mike said.
Then, unexpectedly don Damino chimed in, "What is this? What talk is this from my own blood? Ghosts? Come on, if your mamma heard this, her heart would be even more broken then it is now over Johnny."
With these words, everyone became quite.
"Now, your brother Adam, he is a good boy. He would not come back here and tell me that Bolan was dead if he wasn't. I want no more Bolan talk. What it is is another family. They know I'm to be the next boss of bosses, but they want the power to themselves. The question is, which family is it?"
"No family has any reason to cross us pop. We've always been straight in our dealins with them." Mike Damino said.
"Power alone is a sufficient reason." Sal answered.
"Then why would they pretend to be Mack Bolan?" Arnold asked his boss.
Sal Damino chuckled, "Simple. To throw us off. They want us looking for someone who isn't there. That way, the can waltz around us and take us out at their leisure and we'd know none the better."
Once again silence ensued the room.
Sal broke the silence by saying, "Arnie. Find out who is here. We have people at the airports, and the hotel and we own the taxi companies. Find out which families are represented in Dallas and take them for a little check up with The Doc."
"As you wish Mr. Damino." Vechi replied.
More silence controlled the room.
Vechi broke it this time by saying, " Not to change the topic. But we can't let this Bolan situation distract us from our other business. We still have the undercover cop nosing about."
Sal Damino scratched his head and said, "Take him and give him to The Doc. Once The Doc is finished with him, dump the body right on the front steps of the cop shop. I want them to know that if they try to put someone inside of us, that person will die. And not only die, but in the worst way we can arrange."
*****
As this conference was occurring, Marcus was only yards away from the Damino Ranch with the hood of a Champaign colored Chrysler La Baron. While he looked like he was working on making a quick repair to keep a break down running he really had a small spotting scope set up under the hood and he was keeping an eye on the goings on of the Damino Ranch.
His curiosity was caught when he was Arnold Vechi, Mike Damino and someone that he had never seen before leave the main house and get into a car.
Bolan pulled the spotting scope from the engine compartment of the car and closed the hood. He then got into the La Baron and followed their car.
*****
They pulled up outside of a non-descript concrete building, which had no markings of any kind other than other then the graffiti that the street taggers left behind to show that they were there. Marcus was parked a discrete distance from the building. It wouldn't do to be seen and have to fight his way out of a bad situation this early in the game. He did however; notice the worried look on the face of the man he hadn't seen anything on in the F.B.I file.
It wasn't long until Vechi and Damino came out of the building minus the third unknown guy. Marcus sat there for several hours just observing. When there was absolutely no movement from the building he decided to take a closer look.
Not knowing what to expect, Marcus took his 357, his silenced Beretta, a sawed off shotgun that was slung to his shoulder and 5 hand grenades just for good measure, all of which were well concealed under the leather duster he wore.
Marcus walked from his parking space up to the cement buildings door, which very much to his surprise was unlocked. He let himself in and found himself in a long hallway that hadn't had any upkeep done to it in years. He unholstered the Berretta and cleared each room as he came to it.
"Whatever reason the mob keeps this building, it sure has limited usage." He thought to himself as he noticed each room being completely bare of any furniture.
When he reached the last room he opened the door quickly to surprise its occupants since he hadn't as of yet had any contacts, he knew he would in this room with his Berretta at the ready.
The door flew open and Marcus quickly swept the room. The only potential threat in the room was a short, almost anorexic looking guy, in his mid to late 50's, with very thick glasses who was wearing a blood stained lab coat. This guy was washing his hands as Bolan entered to room and very quickly complied with Bolan's order to lay on the ground face down with his legs spread and hands on the back of his head.
Bolan looked around the room and noticed the room while far from being sterile was set up a lot like a doctor's office. He saw tools that you would see in an operating room, he saw just about every tool you could buy at a hardware store. As a matter of fact, just about anything that could smash, cut, dice or slice was in this room. All lovingly stored in it's own place.
On the bed you usually see in the doctor's office was the third guy who had entered with Vechi and the Damino boy. He was strapped to the bed completely nude. His eyes had been removed from their sockets and lay on the floor. His teeth appeared to have been pulled out one at a time. On a little stand next to the bed was a cigar cutter, which Marcus assumed by the blood on it, had been used to chop off his fingers one at a time. The poor man's manhood had been removed. Areas of flesh all over his body had been cut and then ripped backwards while other areas of flesh had just been cut out with almost surgical precision. All of this appeared to have been done without the assistance of any thing to kill the pain.
Marcus walked over and checked the "patient's" pulse and found none. Mercifully the man was already dead. He walked over to the guy lying on the floor and with the Berretta pointing at him, said, "Get up now. Slowly."
Trembling the little man did as he was told.
"Who are you?" Bolan asked in a short-tempered type of way.
"I'm Leo Vanduchi." The little man answered.
"You did this?" Marcus asked.
"Yes sir." Leo answered.
"Why?" Marcus continued his inquiry.
"He was on a turkey order."
"What do you mean? What is a turkey order?"
Leo chuckled and said, "You really don't know anything do you."
"Why don't you just consider me a tourist and give the grand tour." Was Marcus's retort.
Leo took his glasses off and cleaned them, "I'm what is called a turkey doctor. The family brings people to me that need to be made an example of. They are brought here and I make turkey out of them." He said waving his hand towards his latest work on the table, with a hint of pride.
"At what point do you grant them death?" Marcus asked.
Leo shrugged, "I don't. That's entirely up to them. Whenever they can't take anymore and die."
With a feeling of disgust for this little man Bolan continued by asking, "You said you're a doctor. Are you really?"
"Well, I started medical school but got kicked out. They said that I wasn't right in the head. That I enjoyed cutting things up too much. I believe that the word sadistic was used on my actual transcript." Is how he replied.
"I see. I have to say that I fully agree with the school." Marcus said targeting Leo with his silenced Berretta and ended this torture spree life. "It is truly a savage world you have chosen to live and die in.
At this point, Marcus decided that after he had finished dismantling The Commission, these turkey doctors were going to become a major target of his war, and that the Battle of Dallas wouldn't be over until Arnold Vechi and Mike Damino paid for what they had put this poor guy through. Regardless of who he was or what he did, he did not deserve an end like this.
To claim full credit for the kill, Marcus dropped a marksmen medal on the body that was once Leo Vanduchi and left the building.
On the way back from The Doc's Marcus wasn't paying attention to his speed and quickly noticed the flashing red and blue lights behind him. He complied with the request that the lights were making and pulled the La Baron over to the side of the road.
A young police officer, who couldn't have been on the force for more then a year walked up to the car. Marcus had the Allen Marksville Ids ready.
The first thing out of the young officer's mouth with excitement was, "You're the guy."
Marcus looked at him with a puzzled look and said, "Excuse me officer?"
"From Chicago. The guy who put the Caparone's through the meat grinder. You're him."
A feeling of dread covered Marcus Bolan.
"Officer, you've mistaken me for someone else. I don't know anything about any Caparones and I've never been north of North Carolina." He lied.
"Nah, no way buddy. You are him. That stripper gave as a very good description the night that One Eye Damino died. And you look just like the face on the sketch. Your him." The rookie police officer said with obvious excitement.
Bolan sighed, "Ok officer. Your right." He said preparing to drop the car into drive and speed off.
"Its an honor to meet you sir. It's a real good thing you're doing. About time someone takes it to these guys on their own terms. I get sick of seeing them get away with crime after crime, but getting away with it because they know just exactly how our hands are tied. You wouldn't be looking for a partner would you?" The young cop congratulated.
Bolan obviously relieved chuckled and said, "Thanks young man, but this is a personal war and I wouldn't feel right taking a partner. All that is ahead of me and anyone who joins me is a sure fire death. It's too late for me, the die is cast and I will eventually go out in a blaze of glory. You on the other hand, you can still have a long life ahead of you with a wife, children and grandchildren. Just keep doing things with your hands tied, keep your nose clean and you'll live a lot longer."
"Well sir. Know that you always have a friend in Dallas. You're a good man and I wish you nothing but the best of luck. Just watch your back, there are a lot of us who think the way I do, but there are a few who hope to bring you in and make a name for themselves." The young police officer said.
"Thank you for the heads up. Please, if you tell anyone of this, let everyone know that I consider us soldiers on the same side of the battle. While I won't let myself be taken alive, I will never fire on a police officer. If one of your guys tries to take me in, they will have to shoot me in the back because I will run." Marcus said.
The two shook hands and parted friends and allies.
That night, Bolan entered the Meat Market, which is the club owned by the Damino family and run by Adam Damino.
Marcus sat there, slowly drinking a Bud Ice watching the events of the club. Much to his pleasured surprised Charlie and Mike Damino were also patrons in the bar this night. Their fatal mistake to make. Marcus left the club for about a half hour, came back and ordered another beer.
Then he saw the main target of tonight's op. Adam Damino was walking around the club, apparently just seeing how things were going. Marcus watched him make his rounds and then walk to his office in the back.
The avenging angel stood up and followed Adam to his office. Before opening the door, he pulled the silenced Beretta from under his jacket. Then he casually opened the door as if he did it on a nightly basis, stepped in the office and closed the door behind him.
"What are you doing in here?" Adam challenged.
"Adam, Adam, Adam. Your brother John wasn't very nice to me and look at where he is now." Was Bolan's reply as he took a bead on Adam with the Beretta.
"You are a dead man." Adam said.
Marcus shrugged, "Maybe, but then so are you." He said firing three shots into Adam's chest.
Bolan dropped a Marksman medal into the wine glass Adam Damino had been drinking out of and turned to face the assistant club manager and said, "I've got no problem with you. So do as I say and you will live to be an old man, or at least you will not die by my hand. Understand me?"
The assistant club manager shook his head in acknowledgement.
"Good. Now I want you to wait in this room for one hour before leaving. When you do, tell everyone you meet that Mack Bolan is back and is not happy with Mr. Damino. If you leave this room before the hour is up, I will know and I will kill you on the spot. Understand me?"
The assistant club manager once again shook his head in acknowledgement; he stopped off at the bartender and left word for the two surviving Damino brothers of a much better party. After doing this, he made his exit from the club.
As soon as they heard about the new party, both Damino brothers left the club with a woman each and got in their car. As soon as Mike turned the car on, it went up in a loud explosion. Pieces of car landing everywhere damaging the cars of other patrons and the brief flair up of flames showed bright. In that second, Mike and Charlie Damino joined Adam and John Damino in preceding their father in death.
Wasting no time after taking out the last of the Damino brothers Marcus got to the other end of town where Arnold Vechi was eating his monthly Mexican meal at a restraunt that was also owned by the family and was a crew hang out.
Marcus sat in his van outside the place until he saw Arnold Vechi and another made man come out. Then he stepped out of the van with his sawed off shotgun and sent both mobsters to meet the Damino boys and Felix Caparone. Before leaving however he did award both of them a marksman medal.
After that night's work was done, Marcus Bolan returned to his hotel room where after a shower, and a quick bite to eat he turned on the news so that he could catch the breaking story of his latest handy work and turned his attention to the information provided by Hal Brognola.
He began removing all Intel on those who he had awarded the Marksmen Medal of Death to. Photos, reports, everything was removed because it no longer did him any good to have it.
His focus was mainly on Sal Damino, mostly his day-to-day habits and the ranch including the house in general but more specifically it's defenses.
"Well Mr. Damino. You haven't been seen off your ranch in over two years. How am I going to get to you?" He thought.
As he studied the intelligence Marcus heard on the T.V., "This just in. A major blow has been dealt to the Damino crime family here in Dallas. In one night, it lost 4 of its main members and 3 of its working class arm. Adam Damino was shot in his office at the Meat Market dance club and whoever did it walked out of the club unnoticed by anyone but the club's assistant manager who said that it was no other but the believed dead Mack Bolan. Also occurring at the Meat Market was a car explosion in its parking lot. Inside the car were Mike and Charlie Damino along with two of the prostitutes that are believed to be under the umbrella of the Damino's family's illegal income. As if this wasn't bad enough, on the other side of town Arnold Vechi, the underboss of the Damino family was gunned down along with Antonio Marsa who is a known soldier in the Damino family. With the death of John Damino earlier this week, the family's Godfather Sal Damino doesn't have any more sons to leave his legacy or corruption and crime to. This comes just weeks after the Caparone family was just about destroyed in Chicago. From the reports we have received, marksman medals just like the one's used by the infamous Mack Bolan during his one man war in the late 60s and early 70s, have been left on the bodies here in Dallas, and on the bodies of the mob dead in Chicago. Is Mack Bolan back to seek revenge for his own attempted murder? We don't know but we will bring you more news on this as it occurs."
Marcus smiled to himself and went back to work studied his information and formulating a plan of a final strike here in Dallas.
"The information here on the number of people on the ranch is sketchy at best. What this tells me about the security on the ranch appears to be very understated. A man like Sal Damino would have better protection then this. And I can't find a thing about security on the house."
He spent a few more hours pouring over the information he had received, but only became more and more frustrated. Finally he stood up and stepped out the door sitting in the fresh air with an Arial photo of the ranch it's self and lit a cigarette. "I'm going to have to create some big distraction to get everyone one the ranch in one location at one time. I have no choice but to blitz the house just like in Chicago, but I don't want to go into in completely blind. I won't be able to know where exact guard posts are, but I will be able to see how many people come from where." He thought to himself.
The next morning on the Damino Ranch, Sal and his chief bodyguard were spending hours on horseback discussing business all over the ranch so that no one else could hear.
"I spent all last night trying to comfort poor Helena. We have lost all our boys now." Sal was saying.
" Don Damino, I can't begin to say how sorry I am for your loss." The bodyguard began.
He was cut off by Sal who said, "Then don't. I don't want condolences, I want whose ever is doing this head on a platter by the end of the day."
"Sir, we will get his head. But I think we should get you out of Dallas and to the Crawford Ranch until we get him. I can't guarantee we will have him by the end of today, and no place in Dallas is safe for you now. I dare say not even here on the ranch. If we move you secretly to the Crawford Ranch. And I mean secret. Only me, you, and a select few others will know about it. That way there are no leaks. It will take at least a week for whoever is doing this to figure out your not here. We will have him by then." The bodyguard answered.
Sal considered this for a few minutes and said, "Yes. I think your right. I have a couple of things I need to wrap up here, but I can be ready to go by Tuesday afternoon."
"No sooner boss?" The bodyguard asked.
Damino sighed, "I regret not. I have to take care of the final arrangements for my boys."
That night, Marcus Bolan dressed in full battle regalia was fully intent on sneaking onto the Damino Ranch. He came right up to the metal chain length fence and examined it for alarms. Seeing that there was none, he took out bolt cutters and cut a hole barely big enough for him to crawl through in the fence, "Sloppy security." He thought as he breached the ranch.
He crawled forward, scouting the path to his destination first. He only saw one guard who was sitting in a jeep meant for patrol sound asleep. He quietly cut the guard's throat in his sleep making it so he would never have to worry about waking up again and tossed a marksman medal on the jeep's dashboard.
Then he quietly, but faster then before moved back to the hole he had made in the fence line and pulled his sniper rife and 8 gallons of gasoline through the hole.
After this he moved to the pole barn used by the Damino's for storage and poured gasoline around the interior and exterior of the building. Then he made a long trail of gasoline leading away from the pole barn. When he felt he as at a safe distance, Marcus took his lighter and lit the gasoline.
As soon as this was done, he quickly moved to the area he had chosen for his sniper's nest which was 500 yards to the east of the barn. The plan was once there to use the scope on the sniper rifle to count how many Mafioso came running to the fire and to make note of where they came from. He had opted to bring the sniper rifle along instead of a spotting scope just incase his target of opportunity showed his up, be Bolan highly doubted this would occur.
It wasn't long until his plan began to work. Made men came from all over, deserting their posts, to the fire. Marcus counted each person as they showed up, being very careful not to count the same man more then once and made a mental note to the best of his ability where everyone came from.
Then the unexpected happened. Mr. Target of Opportunity Sal Damino stepped out of the house with two of his bodyguards.
"Mr. Damino this is a bad idea. It is too much of a coincidence after some maniac taking out our men for that fire to be accidental. You should stay in the house until we can guarantee your safety." One of the bodyguards said.
"No, whoever this is wants me to be in the house away from all my best men. That way he can take me out without any of you knowing until later. No, I'm safer out here." Is how Sal replied.
A matter of seconds after saying these words a loud crack was heard and Sal Damino grasped his throat. A red liquid flowed heavily between his fingers. He slumped to the ground fighting to hold to life, but it was a fight he quickly lost.
As soon as Marcus Bolan got back to his hotel, he loaded his things into his van and hit the road. Things in Dallas were going to be getting extremely hot very shortly and it would be a mistake, possibly a fatal one to stay here any longer then he had to.
Driving down the freeway, with nothing to do but think, Bolan reflected, "What a mess you've gotten yourself into now Marcus. Deserted the U.S. Navy, you have fifteen confirmed kills in Chicago. Now another ten confirmed kills here in Dallas. That's twenty-five confirmed kills in less then a month, and it's only the beginning of your war. You still have four Mafia bosses to pay a visit to, and then you have to find out who gave the Vitale family it's information on where your parents were living. Then after that you have the turkey doctors. Then after that, you have whichever mafia made man is unfortunate enough to wander into your crosshairs. You know the truth; you're a soldier in a war. But you also know that the government will consider you no more then a common mass murderer if they catch you. Yes, this life you have chosen, and it is just beginning."