Nightmare in New York

outside of the wall. He whirled into the challenge and flung both men back with a short burst from the chopper, then spun around to check the progress of the group approaching from the interior.

That group were about halfway between the lodge and the wall, beautifully outlined in the backdrop of leaping flames. Bolan selected his weapon, waited, then raised a grenade launcher to his shoulder, sighted along the short range, and let fly — corrected, flew again, and then again, and the walking Une of explosions hurled bodies off at weird angles to the Une of advance, and the advance faltered and halted, and some guy down there was groaning, calling for help, and the entire group withdrew with their wounded.

Bolan let them go. He was busy with other things. He was performing the clumsy task of being both loader and gunner for a long, shoulder-fired rocket launcher known as bazooka. And down there in the pandemonium he had noted a cluster of men running into the building where Paula and Rachel had been kept; he carefully sighted it in, then punched off, and the armor-piercing missile whooshed off, closing the range with a shattering impact. The building lurched and puffed. Bolan saw no one running back out of there; already he was reloading and pivoting on his knee to line up on the big flaming mess of Stoney Lodge.

Again and again the ornery rockets whizzed down the range, the old structure huffed and puffed and began falling apart faster than it could burn, and men stopped running around down there and began thinking seriously about some way to remain alive.

Bolan knew that they were beginning to get their heads back where they belonged. A heavy returning fire from automatic weapons was feeling for his position, and he was wishing that it was time to begin vacating.

He glanced at his watch and put the bazooka aside in favor of the grenade launcher. Foot soldiers were coming again. He began laying in his pattern, carefully watching his flanks, every few seconds casting a glance toward the sky over the crossroads where MacArthur and Perugia were waiting for the girls.

Finally it came, the pyrotechnic display that told Bolan, 'A-OK, man, we got 'em,' and not until then did Bolan heave a sigh of relief and begin his cautious withdrawal.

He stowed his weapons in the van, cast another glance skyward at the final settling cinders of the signal flare, and made a quiet run toward the next firing line.

Freddie Gambella was staggering around outside in his shirtsleeves with not even any damn shoes on wondering Christwhat had happened! Talk about 1-2-3, if that rotten shit was behind all this — well of course he was behind it — it didn't take no mental giant to figure that out! First that little popping sound and all the damn lights going off, then before Freddie could even adjust his eyes to the dark, wham, there goes the goddam front of the house and the whole damn place is already shaking, and then wh-wh-wham, the biggee, the whole goddam side of the house falls in and Freddie is laying over in a corner someplace, practically standing on his head, and the goddam joint is on fire, and he thinks his arm is broke, yeah, sure as hell if's broke, and Christhow did that sonuvabitch pull that off Freddie wanted to know!

Somebody, he didn't even know who, was helping him outside, and Freddie was yelling the senator, the senator, save the fuckin' senator, you asshole!

The guy is telling him, forget the senator, forget 'im, that made son of a bitch is blowed to hell, clean to hell, and Freddie realizes then that this is Augie Marinello saying this.

And Augie has this blood all over his face, it looks like maybe his head is a little bit broke open, but he's walking around and tellin' the boys what to do. Some guy is yelling for water, and that would be like pissing on hell, that would almost be funny, the joint is a long ways beyond any water now.

Freddie hears his own voice yelling to forget the water, forget it, get those men out of there, get those goddamn blessed made menout of there, for God's sake two years work is laying in there, get those men out of there!

And this guy, this lieutenant by the way of Augie Marinello, is giving him this wild eye and telling him that there ain't nothing left to get out of there — no bosses, nobody, no made men, not nobody — and God knew Freddie and Augie had guardian angels sitting on their shoulders 'cause they were the only ones to get out.

And there's Augie, staggering around in his own blood, yelling at his boys to get it together. It's like a nightmare, a crying screaming waU-climbing nightmare. That joint, that beautiful goddam joint, that fuckin' impregnable beautiful hardsite joint is gone to hell and everybody with it, all those million dollar made men't.

And that wasn't all, Freddie soon learned. More explosions, Christ the goddamn wall, Christ the goddamn powder house'tKa-boom and another ka-boom and lookit that shit fly!

Where was the sonuvabitch doing it from? And what with?

Yeah, Freddie Gambella was staggering around out there in the cold in his shirtsleeves and not even any damn shoes on, watching his world collapse around him.

'Them fuckin' broads!'he heard himself screeching. 'You run and get them fuckin' broads and drag their asses over here. I'm gonna stand out in the open where he can see me, and I'm going to stick my cock down their throats and choke 'em to death like that — we'll see what mister smart-ass thinks about that!'

Someone was saying, 'Ay, Mr. Gambella, take it easy, you're in bad shape, here you better sit down.'

And someone else was saying, 'Mr. Gambella, he already sprung the broads. I guess that's the first thing he done.'

Again he was screeching, 'Bullshit, don't tell me no sprung d'broads. You take some boys over there and bring 'em to me!'

The guys were giving each other knowing looks, then one of them shrugs his shoulders and says something dumb, something like, 'That was FranMe, I know damn well that was Frankie all the time.' He jogs off toward the little house, and some other boys trot off after him.

Then he hears Augie telling one of his lieutenants, 'Get some boys over there and see what that hole was blasted for. And you better send some over the wall up here and let them check it out from the other side.

Come on, trot, I think this guy has brought a crew or two with him this time.'

Bullshit, who cared, the goddam jucktrt made men were dead!Two years of sweat and tears gone up in flames, and Freddie is trying to get this across to Augiei, but Augie is just standing there and saying I know, I know, but how about Rocco and Philip and Johnny Satin, your brother bosses, aren't you feeling just a little sad about them too?

It still didn't seem real, it just couldn't be happening, and some guy is kneeling there over him and tying a rag around his arm — a broke arm ought to hurt more than this, shouldn't it? — then there comes gunfire, that just couldn't be possible, no gunfire until now? A chopper, a deep growler — Freddie knew that somebody was getting cut up… then more explosions and… Christwhat was that?

'What was that'? Answer me, you asshole, what was that?'

'This guy is hitting us with something I don't know what, Mr. Gambella. It's like guided missiles or something, I don't know. You just be still now and don't try to move around none.'

And Augje's worried voice, 'Rick, you gotta go get that guy. He's not through yet.'

'Geez, it's suicide, Mr. Marinello. I mean, this is like battlefield type fighting, not street fighting. This guy has got hisself a armyout there.'

'Then you got to go against that army, Rick. We can't just sit here and take this. Get some boys and rush that hole, and do it now.'

'/ want them broadsl I want them broads brought here't You hear mel'

'You just better shut up about those goddamn fucking broads, Freddie. Or I'm liable to stick mydick down yourthroat!'

Where did Augie get off talking to Freddie the First that way? Where the hell did he get off saying he was gonna… ? 'Did you say they're gone, Augie? He sprung the broads?'

Marinello's face was no more than a shimmering blob above his and it was patiently telling him, 'Now look, Freddie, you're hurt bad. You're gonna lose that arm, it's almost blown clear off. Now shut up and be still or you'll