TWO GENERATIONS OF EXECUTIONERS completed

by Bullfrog

Years ago, the father waged a one man war on the Mafia. Now that his dad is dead, the U.S. Navy SEAL son takes his place in the family business.

6. The Bolan Effect

CHAPTER 6: THE BOLAN EFFECT

Within weeks after moving to Bowling Green, Ohio Marcus is once again on the move. Not a change in residence, but another mafia boss had a date with his destiny. Don Tony Gravani of Detroit, Michigan extended his life a little by not attending the peace talks between his family and that of Don Tony Devenolla in Los Angles. In L.A. the Executioner, the mob's personal angel of death sent a great many of Don Gravani's men to the eternal mafia retirement home, but since Gravani himself wasn't present a personal visit is in order.

With his mobile arsenal in order, intelligence unknowingly provided by the F.B.I., and everything else he would need checked and double- checked, Marcus Bolan laid down on his bed for a short nap before his 11 PM departure. He hoped that by leaving at that time he could arrive in Detroit shortly after 3 AM, make a quick easy hit on Gravani and be back to his new home by 7 AM.

Marcus laid down on his bed, began to drift off and then enjoyed blissful slumber. This slumber however wasn't to last. With less than ten minutes of sleeping under his belt Bolan was awakened to a loud, heavy, official pounding on the door.

He stood, grabbed his Magnum 357 off of the nightstand and walked out of his bedroom, through the living room and to the front door. Standing to the side, he opened it. He grabbed the man on the other end by the collar, dragged him inside and forced him on the floor face down placing the 357 in the back of his head. "Can I help you?" He greeted the visitor.

"Bbbolan," The man stammered, "Don't you remember me? We met in D.C. Phil Lopez. Deputy Director of the CIA. I work for Firecracker."

"I remember you. That still doesn't tell me what your doing here or how you found me." Bolan responded pressing the barrel of his firearm tighter into the back of Lopez's head.

"This would be easier if you would let me up. Maybe let me sit down and offer me a beer. Check me, I'm unarmed. Hal sent me."

"No. He said he wouldn't tell anyone about his dealings with me."

"Check me."

Bolan gave his unannounced visitor a quick pat down and once he was satisfied that Lopez was unarmed he allowed him to stand but kept Phil's quick death pointed right at him.

"Talk." Bolan instructed.

"Maybe you'd better sit down for this." Lopez cautioned.

"I won't say this again. If you don't talk now I'm going to have to move again and my landlord is going to have fun using my security deposit to clean you up. Now talk." Marcus said in an ice cold, blood-chilling tone.

"Bolan. I'm just coming out and saying this. Hal died last night."

Marcus pulled the hammer back and said, "Your running out of time fast Phil."

"Wait Bolan. Give me a chance to tell you everything."

"Do it quick." Was Bolan's reply.

"Hal had a heart attack. He survived it, but had four more while he was in the hospital. They couldn't get his heart to maintain a steady beat."

"What I want to know is why are you here. How did you find me?" Marcus said not wanting to believe what he just heard.

"Bolan. Please, shut up and give me a chance to talk."

"I am. And you're using up my patience."

"Like I was saying. When Hal realized that he wasn't going to make it, he didn't want you left on your own. He wanted someone he trusted to help you out. That someone is me. He briefed me on your private war, his unofficial sanctioning of your activities, everything. I'm your new contact."

"And I suppose you have some proof of this." Bolan challenged without moving the 357.

"In my brief case. It landed outside your door when you attacked me."

"Go ahead and get the briefcase. Then, move out to the center of the street to open it. Dump its contents on the road but in the streetlight so that I can have a view of what you have in there."

"Bolan. Come on." Lopez half begged.

"You seem to forget. I have all the bargaining chips here. All I can say is, if you don't do as I say I feel awfully sorry for my landlord."

Knowing that Bolan wasn't bluffing, Lopez answered, "Fine. Fine. Just watch, I only want to have to do this once."

Phil walked past Marcus with Bolan's weapon moving from its aimed point at Lopez's heart to the side of his head, once again to the heart from the back.

Bolan's gaze never moved from Lopez as he walked outside, snatched up his briefcase and kept walking to the center of the road. Once he was there he turned around slowly, laid it down on the ground and opened it. He then removed everything from the case and then, to prove to Bolan it was empty he held one end in each hand holding the briefcase itself upside down.

Marcus gave a cursory examination of the contents on the road and once he was satisfied that nothing represented a threat to him he said, "Come back in."

"Sorry about that. But when you are the most wanted man by both your country's government and it's underworld you don't trust anyone. Now, what is this evidence you have?" Marcus apologized.

Phil removed a VHS tape from his briefcase and said, "Play this an your VCR and I'm sure all your questions will be answered."

Marcus did so and was immediately looking at a pale, very sickly looking Hal Brognola lying in a hospital bed.

"Hey Junior." Hal began in a voice that highlighted his weakened. "If you are watching this, I guess that means I'm dead. This bum heart I didn't know I had took me. So here I am, speaking to you from beyond that grave. BOO! Ok, ok, I have to admit that was a morbid attempt at humor but smile for a dead old man huh. Listen, I made this tape because I knew you'd be suspicious of Phil. I did tell him about you, our agreements, everything. He is your new contact, so please don't go and do anything like kill him." At this Marcus and Phil looked at each other and smiled and Hal continued. "I went to my grave honored to have helped both you and your dad in your wars. Personally I think you guys did the right thing even though the law says you didn't. You both have been good friends to me. Well, I guess that's all. I'll see you someday when you reach this side." Hal pointed at the camera giving the impression that he was pointing at Marcus. "However, don't make it too soon huh. I'm over here catching up with your mom and dad, you have to give me time to learn all sorts of embarrassing secrets about you before you arrive. So take care my friend. Don't take this wrong, but I hope I don't see you on this end until you've reached a ripe old age like I have. Live a good, long and happy life." Hal smiled and the footage ended.

Silence filled the room, both men restraining unmanly tears. Bolan broke the silence by saying, "Lets try this again shall we. Phil, long time no see. Come on in and have a seat while I grab us a beer."

The two men enjoyed several beers and spoke fondly of the dearly departed for hours before Phil stood and took his leave. Marcus decided to allow himself an extra forty-eight hours before leaving for Detroit, he didn't want the news of Hal's passing to affect his performance there.

**

As Bolan and Lopez's confrontation concluded, Seattle Washington, Detroit Michigan and the Bronx New York were once again connected in a crime lord teleconference.

"I know Detroit is next on his list. His last known location was in Portage, which is only three hours from here. He knows from his little adventure in L.A. just as well as I do just how weak I am here now. Anyone with brains would hit me and hit me hard before I have the opportunity to strengthen my forces here." Tony Gravani whined, his fear evident in his voice.

"There is no doubt that our troubles have to be dealt with. However, this is not the time, the place or the way to deal with them. I'm positive that our conversation has a pest problem just now." Louis Vitale chimed in cryptically.

"Plus, in person meetings would be the best way to go anyway for us. Combine our security for them and let this headache of ours try to get us. I'd be happy to host you gentleman in my fair city of Seattle. If our pain is in Detroit, I am a lot farther away from him then New York. By the time he figures out where everyone is, all three of our cities will have head teams on every street corner just waiting for him to poke his head out. And when he does, WHACK off it comes just like an unlucky immortal in Highlander." George Milazzo added.

A moment of silence passed as the other two surviving Commission members considered Milazzo's offer.

Gravani was the first to answer with, "Well. You've got more boys in Seattle then I do here. I'll get in touch with the airport and be there at noon tomorrow."

Vitale ran his hand over his jaw and said, "Yeah. Me to. I'll be there at noon. Same airport."

A big, smile crossed Milazzo's face as he said, "Great. I'll be there personally to welcome you to my city. Hospitality can never start too early."

On that note, the lines to the teleconference broke and the discussions ended for now.

**

Noon the next day arrived and Don Gravani and Don Vitale proved to be men of their words. Somehow they had managed to secure commercial flights from their home territories and arrive in Seattle at the specified time. Don Milazzo also proved good to his word by being there to meet them when they left the secured area of the airport. However none of the men were alone. All had brought a sufficient amount of protection with them.

"Ah greetings friends of mine and welcome to my city. I hope your flights were enjoyable." George Milazzo started.

"Very." Vitale replied.

"No complaints here." Gravani added in.

"I'd like you to meet the son of my underboss Antonio Depta. He represented the Milazzo family on the Bolan hit and now serves as my chief hammer. Antonio this is Dons Vitale and Gravani." Milazzo introduced.

Gravani shook the hand of the Milazzo family hammer and sadly thought of his own son Bill who had been with this Depta on the Bolan hit but had died in L.A. at the hands of either Bolan or the Devenolla family. Which he would never know for sure. How Bill would have liked to have been here to see Depta again.

At this point Milazzo's chief bodyguard said, "Boss. Maybe we should move this to a better place. I don't know where this Bolan guy is and I don't trust him not to be in this airport with us. He has a knack for being wherever our friends are."

Milazzo patted the bodyguard on the shoulder and said, "Yes, yes of course. Very well then. Let us get out of here."

** Exactly forty-eight hours after his self-imposed leave, Marcus pulled his mobile arsenal into the city of Detroit. Immediately upon his arrival, Bolan parked his van in a public parking garage and walked to the nearest car rental where he rented Lincoln Town Car and began his surveillance of Detroit's underbelly.

He started by sitting in his vehicle and reading the F.B.I. surveillance reports that had been passed under the table to him by the late Hal Brognola. Disappointment quickly set in as he drove by fencing operations, clubs, homes, every place that was listed in the surveillance reports and only saw half of the activity and the number of Mafioso that he should have seen. The disappointment became greater as he realize that none of the targets he had come for were showing their faces.

When driving around didn't provide any results, he parked his rental car, stowed the weapons he had chosen to bring with him in carefully concealed locations in the car all except for his Berretta, which was hidden from sight under his jacket and headed out on foot.
"Hmmmmm must have gone to ground somewhere to wait the Bolan storm out. The question is, where are they." Marcus thought to himself as he walked.

**

Hours later Marcus had given up his search for made men for the time being and opted to eat lunch. He found a small mom and pop type of restraunt, went inside, ordered a grilled cheeseburger and orange juice.

Although the restraunt's staff had carefully prepared the meal, Marcus barely tasted it. He was lost in thoughts of mafia. He sat at the table looking over and over again at the surveillance photos of the guys he should be seeing on the streets and various mob owned facilities in the metro Detroit area but wasn't.

As he finished his meal, Marcus noticed a familiar face walk by him outside the restraunt. He quickly looked at the photos again and identified a minor Gravani crew chief and three of the crewmembers. This specific crew specialized in knocking over semi's that were not under mafia protection and fencing their cargos on the black market.

Marcus wasted no time in putting his surveillance information in the attaché case he'd bought, paying for his meal and getting to the car.

**

He followed them to a small party store. Marcus pulled his car over to the side of the road and consulted his files learning that this was a front for this particular crew's fencing operation. That it did do some legit business, but that all of the employees were crewmembers. No one who wasn't a made or connected man worked there.

Bolan observed the store for a few minutes, just to make sure that no innocents happened to step inside for a lottery ticket or a pack of cigarettes and then burst into the place with his Beretta finding a target dropping it and moving onto the next target as if without guidance from Marcus. When the smoke cleared, the three crewmembers that had been walking with the crew chief were on the ground dead along with the crewmember that was acting as cashier this day. The only two in the building still breathing were Marcus and the crew chief.

"Where is Gravani?" Bolan questioned in the ice-cold voice of his.

"I don't know." The crew chief answered.

"Maybe this will help refresh your memory." Marcus gave the crew chief an upper cut that landed him on his back and then he stepped on the crew chief's manhood. "Now, I'll ask again. Where is Gravani?"

In a pained voice the crew chief answered, "I said I don't know. I don't know all right. I DON'T KNOW! All I know is that he is out of town. Took off with a bunch of the boys but didn't tell no one who isn't top brass about where he was going."

Marcus removed his foot and said, "When you see him. Give him this for me." With that being said Bolan tossed a marksman medal onto the chest of the crew chief and left the convience store.

**

Bolan went immediately to the effiency apartment he rented after he realized that his visit to Detroit wasn't going to be as short as originally predicted. It was Spartan in its décor with an uncomfortable metal folding chair, a card table, an ancient rotary dial telephone and a sleeping bag on the floor. Obviously from the apartment's appearance its tenant did not plan on staying put for long.

Marcus picked up his phone, dialed a number and spoke, "This is Junior. I need to speak to Software please."

"Software." Phil Lopez said on the other end of the line.

" Software, its Junior. The subject for my tour isn't here." Marcus spoke cryptically.

"Yes, I know. I've been waiting for you to contact me on this. Your subject has been on the move since yesterday."

Anger erupted in Marcus and he said in a raised voice, "WHAT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN!"

"What I mean is this. Detroit along with his roundtable of goons boarded a U.S. Airways flight to Seattle Washington yesterday morning and they landed about noon yesterday. Why they are there we don't know, but we do know that the Bronx is there also along with his goon roundtable. We are assuming that the Commission is trying to throw together another pow wow, and that the subject under discussion is the elimination of you." Lopez informed.

A sigh of blatant annoyance filled the phone line and Marcus continued, "And you didn't think this little bit of news was important enough to bother me with? Is that it?"

"You were in transit. I couldn't reach you when I found out. Trust me, I tried." Lopez defended himself.

"Come on man. You'd think you were new to handling field operatives for crying out loud." Bolan said insultingly.

Now the annoyance showed in the voice of Phil Lopez, "No. I'm not new to field operatives. However, I am new to you. You and I do have not had the time to set up proper and regular means of contact so we will have to make due with what we can for the time being. So if you're ready to stop acting childish and pretend you're an adult we can get down to business."

Marcus bit back his retort, forced his anger down and said, "Sure. What more do you have to say?"

"Not much. Just that I have arranged a flight for you out of Detroit metro tomorrow morning to Seattle. You can take out a whole nest of hornets with one swat if you play your cards right."

"No, no plane."

"Why not?"

"Because, if I bring a plane out I'll have to come naked. I'd have to leave all of my toys here. No thank you. I don't know what I'll be running into out there, so I'll want all of the equalizers I have at my disposal."

"Take a train then."

"No."

"A bus."

"No. I'll drive myself."

"That will take you too long. This conference may very well be over by the time you could get from one end of the country to the other. No way."

"Well, I don't see how you have much of a choice in the matter now do you."

"Yeah, I guess not. Ok, just please no sight seeing on the way out." Lopez conceded.

"Not a problem on that one. I'll be out as soon as I can. Junior out." Marcus said hanging up the phone.

**

After many long hours of driving, stopping only for short restroom stops and one very brief catnap the mob's angel of death arrived in Seattle. Wasting no time, immediately upon arriving Marcus began his recon of the Seattle area using the intelligence provided to him by Hal Brognola and most recently Phil Lopez, developing a feel for what is in the works.

The bad feelings he had about Detroit were not to be had here. The lack of mafia sightings in Detroit made up for itself here in Seattle. He saw not only the expected Milazzo family members but also those belonging to the Vitale and Gravani families as well. Yes, this was going to be a good hunt.

**

His reconnaissance work led Bolan to a small coffee house that was known by law enforcement to be one of the property holdings of the Milazzo crime family. Instantly he knew that something big was happening. There were too many made men on the premises, and the "closed for private party" sign hanging in the window told Marcus that he wanted to get a closer look at this particular place.

With his war wagon discreetly parked a quarter mile down the road, Bolan made his approach on foot quickly, quietly and deadly. He was a man on a mission.

As with any mob boss parlay exterior security of the building was slightly heavy. Marcus noted a driver inside of a car parked directly outside the coffee shop, two hard men at the main entrance, two more at the rear employee entrance and one on each side of the building guarding the windows from being penetrated. This may have discouraged most men from getting too close, however for Marcus Bolan it only served to pique his curiosity.

One side of the building was a poorly lit alley and it was this spot where Marcus chose to make his probe of the building's interior. He moved a block south of the coffee house to a street, turned off that street into an alley that fed into the alley he needed to get into without tipping off the rest of the exterior security that he was there.

He approached the window guard and just as he had hoped would happen the guard turned to face him without a verbal challenge. When he got close enough to the guard he took the K-Bar knife out of his jacket sleep and slide into the guard's ribcage piercing his heart. Bolan placed his hand over the guard's mouth the muffle the death scream that he knew from past experience would come.

Marcus hid the guard's corpse behind a dumpster in the alley, returned to the window and took a look inside.

The interior was heavily manned. Marcus gave up counting at fifty people, all he assumed were armed. He thought, "Too many guns for an assault. However I am going to make my presence known." And then retreated to his van to gather the tools of his trade that he would need.

Bolan returned to his starting point at the alley window and moved to the parking lot at the rear of the building. Before he made any moves he checked to reassure himself that there weren't any drivers waiting in cars here as there was out front. The two guards were separated. One was at the door as he should be and the other was walking around the parking lot.

Marcus climbed under one of the parked cars and waited for the made man to approach. As he saw the guy's feet pass by him he reached out and grabbed a hold of the man's ankles bringing him down to the ground.

"You clumsy fool." The door guard shouted at his buddy laughing.

Unknown to the door guard, his partner's throat was slit and Marcus removed his hand from the dead guard's mouth.

Bolan then brought the silenced sniper rifle out from under the car and rested his elbows on the hood of one of the cars and drew a bead on the door guard without being noticed. A whispering messenger of death traveled the air and found it's clean mark in the head of the door guard who just collapsed where he stood without a sound.

From here, Marcus proceeded to the corner of the building but stopped shy of going around to the side. He unsheathed a throwing knife from it's sheath on his upper left arm, then came around the corner and let the knife fly less then a second after catching sight of the side guard. The guard fell to the ground with a gurgle and died.

At this point Marcus stealthily moved to the next corner and discovered a dilemma. How to take out three guards without alerting those inside when two were at the door and one was across the street seated in a car.

He solved this problem by backtracking around the building, down the first alley to the street. He then walked down that street until he made a left on the street the coffee house was on and approached by foot leaving all the weapons he had used this far behind out of necessity.

Bolan boldly walked up to the car with the driver sitting in it and leaned over as if he was going to speak to him. However instead of speaking he planted another throwing knife into the throat of the driver, which he left it sticking out, and dropped his signature marksman medal on the driver's lap, as one of the door guards, who hadn't seen what Marcus did to the driver, challenged, "You don't need to talk to him. Move on now before you regret coming out tonight."

Marcus pulled out his silenced Beretta 9 millimeter and quickly both front door guards were on the ground in their own pools of blood no longer caring what happened at the coffee house.

Appearing to be no more then a shadow dressed in his black battle suit he quickly moved to the alley window, broke the glass with is elbow, dropped a grenade inside and took off running away from the coffee house to his war wagon which he drove off at the speed limit and breaking no traffic laws like any good ordinary person who just hadn't killed a lot of bad guys.

**

"I still don't see you insistence on such tight security Milazzo. I have reports from home that Bolan is in Detroit looking for me. He even gave one of my lower crew chiefs a marksman medal and told him to give it to me." Gravani said inside the coffee house before the grenade went off.

"But we can never be too careful. We haven't expected him to hit us in any of the ways that he has so far and Caparone, Damino, Devenolla, a good many of their men and a lion's share of your men Don Gravani are proof that you can not be too careful. Even when he doesn't appear to be somewhere." George Milazzo countered Gravani.

"Regardless of where he is. This Bolan has to die and die painfully. Then we have to let his body become found and his death made public knowledge. We have to tell everyone that you can't mess with our thing and then live to tell about it. Use him, as an example to other would be vigilantes to show them how foolish beginning their own personal wars against us would be." Vitale chimed in.

The other two mafia Dons shook their heads and mumbled words of agreement with Vitale.

Then glass broke. Everyone in the room looked at the offending window including the three surviving members of the Commission and the grenade went off.

The damage to the coffee house was great. A window that wasn't there, a good chunk of the wall that was gone, tables and chairs lay in pieces, and the floor was scorched and torn up. The damage to the mob was even more so, dead and injured bodies lay strewn all over the area of the explosion including Don Louis Vitale who was alive but had a very badly burned face and a piece of glass protruding from his right eye.

Pandemonium reigned supreme as those who were not dead or injured raced around to render aid to their fallen comrades or to secure the coffee house against a further incursion from whoever let this grenade fly.

Within moments the interior of the coffee house was full with the reflections of the flashing lights of law enforcement, fire trucks, and ambulances.

Men in the uniforms of firefighters and paramedics stabilized the wounded, and began loading them into the ambulances for transport to the hospital, including Vitale.

Some men in the police uniforms began taking photographs of the dead and recording every aspect of "the crime scene" as they call it and "the battleground" and Marcus Bolan refers to it. Others were questioning the surviving and non-injured soldiers who were not being very corporative, and a police detective who was acting as scene commander questioned Dons Milazzo and Gravani who unlike their unfortunate counterpart Vitale survived the encounter with Bolan without injury.

A young patrolman, who looked young enough to be brand new to the force, walked over to the detective and handed him something.

The detective looks at the item and then holds up the marksman medal that was found on the body of the driver. "I'm sure you know what this is." He said matter of factly.

Milazzo shook his head with disgust and said, "He just wants us to know that he is here and not in Detroit anymore." Then he fixed Gravani with an ice-cold stare that would chill the blood of a snowman.

**

A few hours later, all of the Mafioso who was at the coffee house was at the hospital. Either in the morgue in basement, receiving emergency medical treatment for their injuries, or just waiting to hear how their hurt comrades were doing.

Dons Gravani and Milazzo along with several of the higher ups in their respective organizations were sitting in a private waiting room.

"I think we ought to rethink this whole thing." Gravani said.

"What do you mean?" Milazzo said encouraging him to continue.

"You said, come here. Everything will be ok. Bolan is too dimwitted to figure out your not in Detroit. You'll be safe here. Well guess what! Bolan is here and here is not safe." Gravani continued.

"So, you think you should go back to Detroit with your boys? Think you'll be safer there?" Milazzo's underboss added to the conversation.

"No. I think we should move this whole discussion elsewhere. Not just me, all of us. Someplace away from this Bolan lunatic." Gravani answered.

"And where would you have us go? My boys and I can't go anywhere else. Not with our Don being on the injured list. You know that if we pull out, Bolan's going to knock off every one of our injured before he comes after those of us who are whole. I won't allow Don Vitale to meet his fate abandoned." Jimmy Vitale, Lewis Vitale's oldest son and currently the ranking member of the Vitale family said.

"Vitale is right Tony. We are going to have to confront Bolan at some point or another anyway if we plan on killing him. He won't just up and die on his own you know. Here, we are here, he is here. It's not like it is one of us verses Bolan. We all are here with more then enough guns to take him out. I say here it is, we make our stand and if Bolan sticks around he makes his last stand. But it ends here." Milazzo said then he looked at his main hitman, "Antonio. Do you see any problem with the extermination of this rodent?"

Antonia Depta ran his hand lightly over his goatee and shook his head. "No Don. I could do it with just a few men, maybe even by myself. With all of the guns we have here, Bolan is dead. It is just a matter of time and not very much of it at that."

Upon hearing this George Milazzo leaned back in his chair and separated his hands in an open gesture and said, "Well. There you have it. The Vitale and the Milazzo will stay here and end this. Will the Gravani stand with us or run and hide their heads in the sand while the men put the boogie man to rest."

Realizing that he didn't have an argument, Gravani just sighed, ignored the insult leveled at him by Milazzo and said, "No. We will all stand together, a unified front."

Milazzo gave a loud and obviously fake laugh and said, "Good. Now, it is settled. Anyone who tries to run instead of facing Bolan will die at the hands of the Commission instead of Bolan."

"Now, we have matters of our meetings and staying arrangements to discuss." Jimmy Vitale brought up.

"Ah true and how very perceptive of you to mention that." Milazzo said turning his head slowly so that he looked at everyone in the room. "I think it is best if all stay in separate locations. That the Milazzo, the Vitale, and the Gravani don't sleep together. Sure, with all under one roof as planned we would be a much harder target for this Bolan, but by providing softer targets we will draw him out and when he attacks so do we. Each family keeps men ready at all times to respond to the call coming from any of the other families. Security of where you stay is up to each individual family. Is this agreed?"

Tony Gravani and Jimmy Vitale both nodded their heads in agreement.

Milazzo continued, "Good. Now on to our meetings. I think it is best for us to not meet in one location any more then one time. We do this; Bolan knows for sure where we will be next. We keep meeting in different places we keep in off balance and he won't attack while we meet. To add to this, we set up dummy meetings in other locations. It is obvious that somehow he knows the faces of our boys. Not just the higher ups, but all of our boys. After all, he got one of Gravani's hijacking crews back in Detroit. This way, he follows someone; it is very likely he will follow them to the wrong location. Each location keeps in touch with each other by cell phone, and if one meeting gets hit everyone drops what they are doing and rushes to their aid. This agreeable?"

Once again Gravani and Vitale shook their heads in agreement.

"What kind of damage was done to us tonight?" Gravani asked.

"Well, so far we have fifteen dead, another ten hurt badly including my old man. Some of which may not make it. Another twenty will small nothing type injuries. My pop will survive but he is blind in both eyes and from what the docs have told me this blindness is permanent, he will never see again." Vitale informed everyone.

"So, what are our current numbers? Combined families I mean." Gravani asked.

Milazzo looked at Jimmy Vitale questioningly and Vitale shook his head and gave an "I don't know" look.

"Very good question that one is. I'll find out and let both of you know." Milazzo said.

At this point, the detective from the coffee house disaster entered the waiting room and waited to be acknowledged.

"What do you want?" Don Milazzo challenged the detective.

"Well, I just thought you gentlemen might want to know the security measures we have taken to ensure the safeguarding of your friends." The detective answered.

"The measures you have taken don't concern us. We protect our own." Milazzo responded.

"Umm well here Mr. Milazzo you don't. The hospital has stated visiting hours and once those expire, all of you who are not patients here will have to leave the grounds." The detective retorted.

"Sorry detective, but yes we do." Milazzo replied.

"And why by chance makes you think that?" The detective inquired.

"Well, it is simple. We don't trust you. Our men have come closer to taking Bolan off the streets then you cops have. How do we know that he isn't actually working for you on one level or another? As far as we know, as soon as every able bodied man leaves here tonight, you'll turn our injured over to him." Don Milazzo answered.

"Mr. Milazzo, I can assure you that we in law enforcement want this Marcus Bolan just as badly as you do. He is making us look bad on all levels. If he shows up here, he will be taken into custody, arrested, tried in every state that he has killed people in and more then likely executed in one of them. So no, we won't turn your people over to Bolan as soon as you leave and you will not stay here past the posted visiting hours." The detective said.

"Detective. Let me put this question to you. Do you enjoy receiving that rather large supplement to your civil servant paycheck that you get monthly, and if you do, do you want to keep receiving it?" Milazzo questioned.

"Yes Don. You know I do, to both questions." The detective said.

"Good. Then the matter is settled. As many men as I want to will stay here tonight and every other night until I decide to pull them. Any further argument? Milazzo said, his contempt for the man evident in his voice.

The detective shook his head no and said; "I'll arrange it with the hospital." With that the detective left the made men to themselves.

**

The days passed, stress and tension high for both mafia and law enforcement but none the less peaceful. Dons Milazzo, Gravani, and even Vitale were able to check himself out of the hospital for short periods to attend their pow wows in various locations. As a matter of fact, everyone was beginning to wonder if Bolan hadn't felt the heat too great in Seattle and left town after one strike. Little did they know that he had been a shadow to their every movement, not only to the mafia but also to law enforcement who didn't realize that as they tailed the dons, that they themselves were being tailed by Marcus Bolan.

Finally, the day came to break the peace and to set the mob's nerves on end again, to make them jump at shadows. At 8 P.M., the angel of death struck again.

His surveillance led Marcus to a rather large Holiday Inn, where the Gravani had taken up residence during their stay in Seattle. Bolan appeared to be no more then a shadow as he entered the hotel's property in a poorly lit section of the parking lot. A brief recon of the exterior showed quite a few hard men in the parking lot. Bolan did his best to avoid them, but was surprised by one that by chance happened to walk into him. This proved to be only a slight problem though because with a quick break of the neck the mafia soldier went limp and wouldn't ever get back up. Marcus dragged the body over to a small patch of trees that were grown as a parking lot decoration and laid the body out of the immediate line of sight of anyone who may have otherwise noticed it.

After penetrating the property, Bolan checked every door leading into the hotel. He quickly decided they were all too heavily guarded for him to enter. Even if he succeeded in taking out every made man at one of the doors without anyone else noting his presence that many people off post would raise eyebrows. After all, one or two men wandering off is one thing, but six or more. Someone would look for answers right away and right away might be too early for Marcus's well being.

Fortunately for Bolan however the house keeping staff of this particular Holiday Inn made a habit of leaving the drapes open in vacant rooms. So he came to the first vacant room he found that was eclipsed by shadows, this was important so that the broken window wasn't readily evident to the casual observer. He drew his silenced Beretta, held it in his right hand, stood with his back to the window and took it out with his left elbow. He then lowered his level and observed the parking lot to make sure that the breaking glass hadn't been heard and that anyone who had heard it wasn't coming right away to investigate. Once he was positive that he hadn't been detected yet, he removed the remaining shards of glass as quickly and quietly as he could without creating a huge gash on his hand that he would have to suffer with on this operation. Once this was completed he pulled himself through the window and entered the room. After gaining entrance to the hotel, he pulled the dark red drapes shut to make the broken window even harder to notice.

Marcus slowly made his way through the unlit room with his eyes not moving anywhere the barrel of his handgun wasn't facing. He didn't know what was waiting for him on the other side of the door and knew he wasn't likely to be able to get a good enough tactical view of the hallway from cracking the door and peeking out, so once he made it to the door he threw it open and rushed the hall.

This tactic worked because the three Gravani hard men were still giving him looks of shock and confusion at the surprise appearance of an armed man dressed in a black commando outfit when Bolan's silent bullets found their marks in the heads of the mafia members. Marcus pulled the three corpses into the room and reminded himself mentally that he would have to watch out for innocents who may cross his field of fire.

He worked his way down that hall, to the stairs then up to the next floor where his recon showed Tony Gravani to be staying. He had to pay an off duty hotel employee five hundred dollars for Gravani's room number, but it was worth it to take a man like that out of the world.

Once he made it to the floor Bolan looked through the door's window and noticed two hard men standing guard outside of Gravani's door. Marcus opened the stairwell door and immediately sent two whispering angels of death through the air. With clean shots to their heads both men fell to the floor. Bolan quickly pulled the bodies into the stairwell and opened the door to Don Gravani's room with the key provided him by his paid informant. The room was empty.

Working on the intelligence provided by the hotel employee on his payroll, Bolan knew that the entire floor was occupied by Gravani family members or vacant so he began a room-to-room search for Don Gravani.

This entire search discovered was ten Gravani men sleeping; Marcus presumed they were another shift of protection for the Don. All ten men soon slept the sleep of the dead with slit throats

With the empty floor building confusion in him Bolan moved back to the stairwell and considered other likely locations the Don might be found.

Before withdrawing this assault Marcus decided to check the common areas of the hotel for signs of Gravani. His first stop was the hotel's restraunt. Here he noticed Gravani men along with innocent hotel guest, however the Don wasn't present. Bolan decided to leave the made men in this room along instead of putting innocent lives at risk and tipping off Gravani that he was here.

His second stop was the hotel's bar. This also had Gravani men mixed in with innocents, but yet again it revealed no Don Gravani. Once again, Marcus decided not to risk hitting this location since it wouldn't provide the fruits he sought.

Next he tried to work out facility. This was vacant of everyone, mafia and innocent.

He decided his last stop before leaving would be the pool area. He peered in through the window here and saw Gravani sitting in the pool with his three surviving sons who were also his top people with him in Seattle. He also counted six hard men sitting at table around the pool, so no doubt there were at least six loaded guns in the room, probably more somewhere within reach of Gravani and his boys.

Bolan once again charged and all six bodyguards at the tables joined their friends that Marcus had encountered so far today before they could react.

He then turned his silenced Beretta on the men sitting in the pool, for who time seemed to have frozen.

"Man you made this hard." Marcus said and then fired a single round into each of their heads, the Don's messenger of death landing right between his eyes.

Marcus left the pool that was gradually turning red behind, and quickly but silently made his way back to the room he had used to enter the hotel, back out the window and briskly walked back to his awaiting van.

**

It only took five minutes for the call to 911 to come in from the Holiday Inn, three minutes after that the news of Bolan's newest massacre arrived to the detective on Milazzo's payroll at home and another thirty minutes for him to arrive at the gate to the Milazzo estate.

The gate guard called up to the main house and Milazzo authorized the guard to allow the corrupt detective to pass. The detective pulled his car up to the parking garage but stopped short of pulling into it. He left his car and was met by a man in an immaculately tailored suit.

"Detective. What are you doing here?" The man challenged.

"Antonio, this is for the Don. If he permits you can sit in while I talk to him." The detective answered Antonio Depta.

Depta gave a mocking bow and said, "Right this way sir."

The detective followed the stone cold killer to Don Milazzo's den where Milazzo sat on an extremely plush couch, drinking a glass of wine and reading a book that the detective couldn't make the title out on.

Upon seeing his guest enter the den the Don stood up and said, "Ah detective. What a pleasant surprise. Would you care for a glass of wine while we talk?"

"That's very gracious of you Don Milazzo, but no. I won't be here very long. I've just come to bring you some news about a friend of yours before you hear about it on the news tonight." The detective answered.

Milazzo sat down and said with a gesture of the hand encouraging the detective to continue, "Antonio, you can stay for this. Well, that is appreciated. Do tell."

"Bolan hit the Holiday Inn that Don Gravani was staying in. He took out several of Gravani's remaining men along with the Don himself."

"Your telling me that Don Gravani is dead?" Milazzo asked.

"Yes Don. We are still not sure how Bolan managed it. Don Gravani had men inside and outside on the look out for him. In addition to this, I had taken it upon myself to station plain clothed officers inside the hotel and sitting in cars outside."

"Let me get this right. You had police officers watching the Don?" Milazzo inquired anger showing not only in his voice but his face as well.

"Yes sir." The detective answered.

"And let me get this right. You, a man we pay to help us limit our involvement with the police was the one who put them there. Right?"

"Yes Don."

"And I suppose you have them keeping an eye on me and Don Vitale to huh?" Milazzo inquired further.

"Yes sir. I had men placed on all three of you."

"WHY! HOW STUPID ARE YOU!" The Don blew up.

"I thought I'd help protect you. Bolan is one tough man, Navy S.E.A.L. and all." The detective answered with an amount fear evident in his voice and face to rival the Don's anger.

"Protect us? Detective, we don't need your protection, and we don't need officers in plain cloths that we don't know are there around us where they may hear things we don't want them to hear."

"Don Milazzo. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." The detective tried to cover for himself.

Milazzo's voice and demeanor softened as he said, "That's ok detective. Everyone makes mistakes. Tell me, was it terribly risky for you to come out here to tell me about poor Don Gravani?"

"No sir. No one knows that I also work for you, so I came out here on my own initiative and I didn't tell anyone in the department. I borrowed a neighbor's car without his knowledge so that the officers stationed nearby your house wouldn't realize that it was me pulling coming to visit."

" An honorable police officer stole a car? Now this is a treat. Were the officers you have around my house able to see your license plate?"

"No sir. I know how they are positioned so I came in a way that I doubt they were even able to get a make on the car."

"You are a smart man detective. Well I appreciate you coming out here tonight to tell me about dear Don Gravani. I won't hold you up any longer though. Please, have a nice night. My housekeeper will show you the way out."

The detective stood up to leave and as soon as he was out of ear shot Milazzo turned to Depta and said, "He has become too comfortable with our relationship and that comfort is making him stupid. He is not to have a tomorrow. See to it."

Antonio stood up and said, "As you wish it Don." And left the room, and within half an hour he was pouring cement over the car that was stolen by the police officer with the detective's lifeless body inside.

As soon as Antonio left his den, Milazzo picked up the phone and called Don Vitale and told him the bad news about Don Tony Gravani.

**

It wasn't even an hour before the news of Don Gravani's death along with so many of his men made it's way onto the T.V, and the hospital where Louis Vitale was recovering became a buzz of activity inside of the private waiting room where the Don's mafia bodyguard slept when they were not on duty. However, no sleeping was being done now. Now, the hospital director along with some of her staff, the chief of the Seattle police dept. along with more then a few uniformed police officers, and Jimmy Vitale along with many of the higher ups of the Vitale crime family where locked in heated discussion.

"We are going no where. We have no place to go. Besides, my father is not done healing yet." Jimmy Vitale said.

"And as I've already told you Mr. Vitale, your father no longer needs medical attention. His life is in no further danger from the injuries that he sustained. You guys have a mad man after you and I will not allow the next front of his war to be fought under my watch. Every one of your men whose life is no longer at risk must leave the facility. We will, without question allow the ones who still require medical attention to remain here." Sarah Knock, the hospital's director said.

"Who are you to tell us what we have to do. I will not allow my family to be treated this way at home or when we are visiting friends as we are now." Jimmy argued in a calm professional tone of voice.

"Look. Mr. Vitale has been allowed to leave the hospital everyday pretty much since he has come here for whatever it is you guys do and he has been allowed to return to his room every night. I'm telling you that there is nothing more that we can do for him now and we need this bed for people we can help." Sarah continued in a voice which could just have easily have been discussing a new menu option for patients.

" Like I've already said Mrs. Knock. My father will continue to be a patient in this hospital until such time as I feel he is ready for discharge. What part of this don't you understand?" Vitale continued in the same tone of voice.

"The part where you done run this hospital or make the decisions as to what is best for it. I do. Now, what is best for this hospital is for Marcus Bolan not to show up here guns a blazing where my real patients, patients in true need of our medical service may be injured by accident. Now sir, you and all of your men who do not need our attention will just have to find somewhere else to stay. We are a hospital, not a hotel." The hospital director stood her ground.

" Mrs. Knock. This conversation has continued long enough and it shows no sign of ending soon, just going around and around. Now, I need you to say exactly what you mean and Mr. Vitale I need you to remain quite until she and I are both finished." Chief Tril said.

"Mr. Vitale, I am going to see to the immediate discharge of all people not requiring medical attention at this time. When I am completed, everyone who is not registered as a patient at this facility must leave the grounds not to return unless they find themselves in need of medical attention once again. This not returning also includes visiting those who are patients here. I repeat, patients only may be here." Director Knock stated firmly.

"Ok Mr. Vitale there you have it. You and your men have just been banned from the grounds unless you require medical attention in front of uniformed police officers. If you or anyone of your men not registered as a patient here return without being in need of medical attention you will be arrested for criminal trespass. I guarantee you that if this happens you will not be free to come and go for your little mafia meetings has you have been here. So I strongly suggest you find a hotel. You have an hour to be off of the grounds." The chief of police said.

"Now wait a minute here." Vitale began.

"Mr. Vitale, if we wait a minute then you will only have fifty nine to make your arrangements before we place each and everyone of you under arrest. I'd strongly suggest you not waste that minute." Chief Tril interrupted him.

With that the police officers and the hospital staff stood and left the waiting room and left the Mafioso to make whatever plans for accommodation they could.

**

As he did between announcing his arrival in Seattle and hitting Tony Gravani, Marcus Bolan laid low for a few days observing his adversaries to get a firm understanding of how his actions changed the field of play. What he noticed was that the mafia was in no way taking the Bolan threat lightly. The Milazzo estate was turned into a heavily armed fortress. The same was true with the hotel that the Vitale had taken up housing in. There was no way for a single man to hit either of these locations and have a chance at coming out of it alive. That didn't concern Marcus for he began his war fully expecting that he would eventually be added to its body count. The reason for these options becoming unacceptable was that they offered a low probability of success, and that failure was not an option to him. If he was to die, he was going to take as many mafia bosses as he could.

His opponents continued to meet in varied locations still trying to throw him off, with false meetings occurring elsewhere to distract him. These meetings had become just as poor of a target as the hotel and Milazzo complex. While neither Don had their full manpower present, after all they needed bodies for the fake meetings as well as to ensure the safety of where they rested their heads, they still brought enough manpower each that when combined created more guns then Bolan wanted to have pointing at him in one setting. The Vitale provided exterior security for the meetings while the Milazzo provided interior security.

Travel for each of the surviving Commission Dons was conducted by a heavily armed convey to and from the location of the meetings. Usual no less then three cars, but there have been as many as six, and Marcus was left to assume that each car was crammed to the bursting point with bad guys that carried guns.

After much recon and planning, the day for Bolan's next strike came.

**

He stood in the tree line shadows waiting for the motorcade to come into view with a Stinger missile launcher on his shoulder. The last time he tried this attack in Chicago, his target wasn't in the vehicle. Marcus could only hope that the mob didn't pull another fast one him this time because if they did, he had no idea of what to do next. The mafia was feeling his presence strongly and was buckling down; they knew that he was just as big of a threat to them as the late great Mack Bolan was.

The motorcade pulled into view. Bolan targeted the lead car knowing that Milazzo should be in the second car and let a missile take flight. The missile streaked into the lead car, which leaped into the air in a bright red and orange flame and landed on the second car.

The remaining car in the motorcade veered sharply to the left but still clipped the back drivers side of the second car. The third car came to a quick stop and it's passengers debarked immediately to render aid to their comrades in the stricken vehicles.

Marcus wasted no time. As soon as the Stinger was away he dropped the launcher and pulled his M-16 up off the ground. Round after round were sent into the three mob owned cars. Bolan saw all six of the made men from the third car drop to the ground and not get back up. He continued pouring fire into the two vehicles immediately put out of commission by his Stinger until every round of ammunition he had had been spent.

Time was of the essence now since law enforcement was not far from this particular prey. As soon his last bullet was fired, Marcus dropped the M- 60 to the ground and rushed down to the carnage he had created. Since he began this front with a Stinger missile and a M-60, Bolan saw no need to used any of his silenced weapons and unholstered the 357 from its shoulder harness as he ran, the sirens of the incoming emergency vehicles indicated a drastic lack of time eliminating the caution that had become so characteristic of him.

Once he was on the scene he made a quick examination of the third car's personnel. Once he noted that all six were dead he turned his attention to the second car. Only one of the car's occupants remained alive, one of Don Milazzo's bodyguards. The 357 belched once and none of the second car's occupants remained alive including the attacks two intended targets Don George Milazzo and his main hammer Antonio Depta, killed the bodies were in such bad shape that Marcus couldn't tell if they had been killed by the lead car landing on them or by his the M-60 fire. Either way it didn't matter, what did is that they were dead and only one Mafia Don remained that needed to die.

He reholstered his 357, dropped a marksman medal on Milazzo's body and ran as fast as his Navy S.E.A.L. endurance conditioning would permit him to the fire trail in the woods where his van was parked and sped off before the police arrived.

**

Up until this time, he had set a pattern in Seattle of hit, lay low for a few days, hit and then lay low again for a few days. It was time to break that pattern before Vitale learned that he was the sole surviving Don on the Mafia's ruling Commission and really tightened up his personal security. Vitale hadn't had time to learn of the mafia's most recent losses and would be waiting at the location of tonight's meet. The police would still have their hands full with the havoc he had raised this far into the night and wouldn't realize the need to contact their men keeping an eye on Vitale right away. This was the perfect time to make his final strike at The Commission that had ordered the execution of his parents.

Marcus pulled his van into a used car lot and changed out of his battle rig into a red mock neck sweater, a pair of black pants, and a nice looking pair of loafers. He then put his shoulder holsters back on himself and covered them with a black sports jacket. Marcus added to this disguise a pair of wire rim costume glasses with glass lenses and with the help of a special gluing compound attached a fake goatee to his face to further disguise his appearance.

He then exited his van and borrowed a mid ninety's Cadillac from the lot's owners and drove to the location of the meet.

It was time to attempt a tactic that the elder Bolan had used so many times effectively during his war on the mob. That tactic is role camouflage, convincing the enemy that your one of them long enough for you to kill them.

**

The meet was to be held in a little hole in the wall, dive type bar that was also owned by the Milazzo Family. It was run at a loss, the only of the Milazzo enterprises legal or otherwise to be run that way. The Hangover was more of a crew hangout then an attempt to turn a profit, which is why it is still open. The main customers were the family members of various crews.

Inside The Hangover, Don Vitale sat at a table with his son Jimmy Vitale and his underboss and younger brother Theodore Vitale. Two more of Vitale's men were at the pool table playing a round and three more were at the dartboard. Upon the arrival of the Milazzo's interior security force these five men would join the other Vitale men outside.

"What is taking Milazzo so long? This meet was suppose to begin," Vitale stopped for a second, "Jimmy, what time is it?"

"Um it's 7:30 pop." Vitale's son answered.

"He was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago." Vitale finished what he began saying.

"Don, I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation. Maybe he just slept too long." His brother responded, referring to his own brother as Don for the benefit of the other five non-related members of the family in the room.

Don Vitale shook his head and said, "No, no. If there is one thing that Don Milazzo is anal about it is being punctual to everything. He always shows up exactly on time. Never one minute late or one minute early. Always exactly on time. No exceptions. Something has happened."

"Pop, don't jump to conclusions. We made it here without troubles from Bolan Jr. so will he. After all, this is his home turf; he will know what to do and where to go if he runs into a problem. Plus, we live in the day of the cell phone. If he found trouble he is better protected then you are. He would have plenty of time to fire off a call to warn us even if Bolan did get him." Jimmy assured his father.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe your right. Who knows, maybe I'm getting a little paranoid in my old age huh." Louis Vitale replied to his son.

The three at the table fell into silence as the Don listened to the sounds around him. Slowly a sad smile found it's way onto his face. "That is the sounds of a pool game I hear huh?" He inquired.

"Yeah pop." Jimmy answered with sadness in his voice that matched the look on his father's face.

"Ah, I use to love that game. I could play game after game for hours on end. As a matter of fact, my first personal racket was to open a pool hall of my own and then take my cut from the pool sharks who I allowed to prey on the unknowing. Good men those sharks where. Once I became Don, a good many of them were made into the family." The Don reminisced.

Another moment of silence passed at the table, Don Vitale lost in his own world and the others not sure how to reply to the Don's self pity. It was something they were unaccustomed to hearing come from him.

Louis took another drink of his beer and asked, "What else are the boys doing in here?"

"Two are playing pool and three are playing darts boss." His brother answered, still following family protocol for speaking directly to the Don.

"Ah, darts. Another fantastic game that I will never play again. How I am going to miss being able to see." The Don said.

**

Outside The Hangover, Marcus pulled up in front of the bar in the Cadillac. He put the car into park and got out just as one of the two door guards made his way to the car. As he drove up he noticed two guards at the door, one across the street and down ten feet on both sides, and every ten feet the Vitale soldier alternated sides. Marcus was unable to tell how the other sides of the building were protected.

"Sorry man, but this is a private party tonight. You'll have to go elsewhere for your beer." The door guard said.

A cocky grin crossed Bolan's face and he said, "Sure. No problem, but I think my boss would have a problem with that."

"What is your boss gonna do to us. The man is nothing more then anyone else in this town is." The door guard answered.

"Ah, I see. I'll be sure to tell Don Milazzo how you feel about him."

Blood seemed to empty quickly from the door guard's face before he said, "Did you say Don Milazzo?"

"Yeah. And I do believe that we are in my city which makes me more of a somebody here then you are. Look, if you don't believe me just step inside and flag down one of Don Milazzo's other men. They will vouch for me." Bolan continued acting out his role camouflage.

The door guard's blood returned to his face and a skeptical look crossed his face. "They are late too. Their whole group isn't here. As a matter of fact, if your part of the Milazzo security force, why aren't you with his convoy?"

"Well, now that's a little on the embarrassing side. My old lady wouldn't let me out until she um had satisfaction if you know what I mean. Well, I gave it to her, but it took longer then I expected. So I missed everyone else," Bolan answered sheepishly then turning his voice to concern said, "They really aren't here yet?"

"Ah, and with the Milazzo this thing of ours does not come before everything else?" The door guard pressed.

"Oh yeah it does. And when the Don gets here I'll be forking out just all of my last take from my loan sharking gig and maybe a lil more."

"You strapped?" The door guard asked.

"Aren't you? Not much good guarding our Dons inside now am I if I'm not. You know, just incase this Bolan guy shows up and somehow manages to get past you boys." Bolan retorted.

"Let me see." The skeptical door guard continued his questioning.

"Ugh this is going too far." Bolan complained in role as he opened his jacket to show both filled shoulder holster.

The door guard motioned towards the door, "I don't know why I believe you. Something about this whole set up don't feel so right but for some reason I do. Go ahead. Maybe after this is done we can meet for a beer, you know, so there is no hard feelings over this."

"Sure. I'm up for that." Bolan said.

"Cool. Now, be careful. Don Vitale does not like to be kept waiting and Don Milazzo is real late. He won't be very friendly." The door guard cautioned.

"Thanks for the heads up man." Bolan said and then turned his back and went inside the bar.

**

As soon as the door opened, all seven men with sight watched Bolan enter and Louis Vitale turned his head that way wishing he could see who came in.

"Don Milazzo, it is about time. I was starting to think that that Bolan guy got to you or something." Vitale said.

Bolan shut the door and as he unholstered his silenced 9mm he said, "Your right." With that Bolan killed the five bodyguards where they stood along with Don Vitale's brother and son.

Vitale heard the bodies hitting the ground and the table he sat at, the slight sounds made by each man as Bolan's bullets landed in their heads.

"What is going on? Jimmy, Ted, talk to me." The sole surviving Commission Don said nearing panic.

"They can't Vitale. And you'd better not speak any louder then I am or you're as dead as they are."

"Dead? So you are Bolan. Why shouldn't I raise my voice, you're going to kill me anyhow ain't you." The Don said in a business as usual voice.

"True. You did order my parents dead."

"Your old man killed many good friends of mine while we were coming up through the ranks. He deserved what he got." Don Vitale replied.

"As will you." Bolan said with his icy chill voice.

" Ah, I guess from your world view I should. But still, why shouldn't I call for help?" Vitale continued in the same disinterested voice.

"Well, lets think about this. It wouldn't do much for your legacy as a leading figure in the underworld for you to go down screaming like a little girl in your dying moments now would it?"

"Ah, so true. So, why is it that I'm still breathing?" Vitale asked as casually as if he was asking about the weather.

"That's easy. I want to know how you learned where my parents where."

"Ah, sorry my friend but, well to put it in your Navy S.E.A.L. speak that is classified."

"Well, let me sweeten the deal for you then. You tell me now and I'll let you die quickly and painlessly. Just like your brother and poor Jimmy. However, if you are not a good boy I'll make you wish you were visiting one of your turkey doctors."

"Ah, Bolan you are a very funny man. As a matter of fact, I'd be willing to offer you a position in my organization. I'm the last Don on the council I'm assuming so I'll lift the price on your head. It's a live live deal."

"Oh, so tempting Don Vitale. Almost a deal I can't refuse but you forgot one detail. I don't care about live live, I'd be happy with die die as long as you are one of the people doing the dying."

"Ah. Well, I thought it was worth a try. You'd make one fine hammer. However I am sorry, the Code of Omerta is a sacred thing and cannot be broken. Even if it means I can die easier." Vitale sighed.

Marcus walked casually to the bar and grabbed a rag, then walked back to Vitale and shoved it in his mouth. Without preamble Bolan fired a silent bullet into the Don's kneecap.

Louis fell to the ground whimpering as he went the rag staying in place.

Bolan pulled Vitale's head off the ground and said, "Now let me ask you again. How did you find out where my parents where hiding and the name they were using?"

Vitale shook his head in defiance so Bolan put another bullet into the back of his left shoulder and asked, "Now?"

Once again Bolan put a bullet into the back end of Vitale's last good knee. "Now?"

Once again Vitale shook his head in defiance with a soft sob and tears in his eyes so Bolan placed an expertly fired non fatal shot into the small of Vitale's back paralyzing him. "Now?"

Even in the high degree of pain he was in, Vitale continued his defiance. This time, instead of placing another shot into the Don, Bolan walked over to the bar and grabbed a toothpick. Then he leaned down to the Don's ear and said, "Tell you what I'm going to do. I've decided to let you live. But first, I'm going to use this tooth pick here to rob you of your hearing, and then I'm going to apply just enough pressure to your throat to make it so you won't be able to speak again. I think it will be more therapeutic for me to see the man responsible for the death of my parents to go through life blind, crippled, deaf and unable to speak. I bet you'd enjoy life like that to huh?"

Vitale's defiance crumpled at the thought of life like that and began shaking his head.

"You're going to talk?" Bolan asked.

Vitale shook his head yes.

"Now, when I take the gag out of your mouth, you will not talk loud, scream or do anything to catch the attention of the guys outside right?" Bolan asked.

The last Don shook his head no and Bolan removed the gag and said, "Now, who told you where my parents were."

Vitale chirped out, "Dalton Key. FBI agent. I paid him. Kill me now please."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. We talked by a 1-800 number. Kill me now." Vitale said with the amount of pain he was in seeping out in his voice like the blood out of his wounds.

"Ok. I believe you. Sleep well Don Vitale." Marcus said then he placed a silent round into the back of Vitale's head putting him out of his misery.

However, Vitale didn't die silently. He screamed at his last second which brought the door guard Bolan had spoken to just a few minutes before in the door to investigate.

The door guard immediately realized what happened, drew his gun and fired at Bolan. Marcus heard the bullet buzz by his head. Way to close for his comfort. Bolan returned fire and dropped the Mafioso dead in his tracks.

He ran through the door, caution to the wind since the exterior guard was aware of his presence already firing a shot into the chest of the second door guard on his way out. He ran back to the borrowed Cadillac trading wild unaimed shots with the rest of the exterior guard on the way.

He jumped into the vehicle and sped off as fast as he could go from being parked. The closest made man jumped out in front of the car and aimed his pistol at Marcus. Marcus rammed him with the front of the car and heard a loud crunching sound from under his driver's side front tire. From the sound of the crunch he knew that it could have only have been a human skull cracking under the weight of the car.

"Well, there is another one to add to the body count." He said as he drove to safety past the bullets that were zinging into the borrowed car.

**

Once he was safely away from The Hangover, Marcus slowed his speed down so that he didn't attract any unwanted law enforcement attention and drove back to the used car lot.

When he arrived he quickly left the car, went to his battle wagon and removed a large sum of cash, went back to the car and left it on the seat along with his signature marksman medal to cover the damages the Cadillac received in the duel with the mob.

As he drove off in his van he thought, "A Fed. I have to kill a federal cop. No Bolan, don't think of him as that. He is the reason your parents are dead and has strong ties to the mob. He is your enemy, he crossed the line from good guy to bad guy as soon as he sold out your parents."