The building was an older wooden one. The neighboring karate school was in a new concrete block structure that would not ignite easily. The safety of the building on the other side would depend on the Portland Fire Department.
As the flames took hold of the two rooms, Bolan went out the back door and drove away. So much for any outstanding loans.
He drove downtown and parked in the under-ground garage of the high-rise hotel he had checked into two days earlier.
He covered the weapons, made sure the Thunderbird was gassed full and went up to his room.
He stared out his window at the masses of evergreens marching up the hills.
The whole city was one green carpet, nothing like the brown semidesert of Southern California. Bolan realized how much he loved the Northwest.
But even here the cancer of the Mafia was destroying fine men and women.
He felt a special empathy for its victims, something deep and personal and painful. He could never undo the tragedy of his family, but he could strike out to prevent other tragedies.
Because he despised them so, loan sharks would always be among his primary targets.
The Executioner planned to tear up the Canzonari family's loan division until its blood turned the Willamette River into a red flood.
2
Also Charlotte Albers heard the phone's tenth ring.
Frustrated and frightened, she slammed down the receiver.
She wiped away tears and rubbed her eyes.
Dammit! This was the fifth time she had dialed her sister's number. Leen should have been home from work by now. Charlotte dialed again, making sure she hit the right numbers. The phone rang four times. Then someone picked it up.
Thank God! "Leen! I've been calling for an hour. I've got to talk to you!" Charlotte spoke intently. "Look, I've got some trouble, big trouble." She fought back tears. "Leen, I need help!"
"Hey, take it easy. I'm here. We've always helped each other. Now tell me what this is all about."
Charlotte exhaled into the mouthpiece. "Leen, I need some money. Quite a bit."
"Is that it? How about a hundred and fifty as a loan."
"That's not enough. I need twelve hundred and fifty by six o'clock tomorrow evening."
The line was silent. "Lot, you into coke again?"
"No, no. I just had some short money days, and I borrowed from a finance company..."
"A loan shark, right? Dammit, you know how those bastards operate." There was a pause. "Charlotte, I'm sorry. We just don't have that kind of cash laying around." She paused. "What happens if you can't pay?"
"I have a choice, get gang-banged or my arm broken."
"Charlotte!"
"Okay, it isn't that bad. But tomorrow night, the new interest is added. That's $250 more. I'm getting in deeper and deeper."
"They won't hurt you."
"Younger sister, you don't know how they play.
"But if they hurt you, you either never be able to pay them."
"They call it "making an example.""
"Who is it, Lot?"
"Jody Warren."
"That slime!"
"You want me to swish my ass into your bank and apply for a signature loan?"
"Baby, I'm sorry. If I'd known, we would have thought of something. Warren hurts people."
"Thanks for the support," Charlotte sobbed. "Look, I shouldn't have called. Jody said if I couldn't raise the cash, to come there tonight and we'd talk, work out something."
"You know what he's going to work out, baby. He's going to work you out of your panties."
"I'm no fragile little flower, Leen. So maybe I let him play around a little. If I do, maybe I can put him off a few days."
"Then what?"
"I don't know! Christ, how did I get into this?"
"Lot, call me right after you talk to him, okay? We'll be home tonight. I can hock my engagement ring for almost $1,200. Or I could sell my Toyota, maybe get $2,000."
"Oh, Leen, I couldn't let you do that. I'll find a way out of it."
"I'd do it for you, babe."
"I know you would, but I won't let you. I'm gonna think about this and call you tonight, okay?"
Charlotte Albers replaced the receiver and inspected her slender body. Some white guys got their kicks with black girls.
It was worth a try, even though she knew her price was steep. She was attractive, had a good figure and big breasts, but would he go for the deal?
A half-hour later she was dressed and had done her makeup to show off her big eyes to best effect. She wore a low-cut white dress. She hoped to hell the bait was good enough.
She stood in Jody Warren's pricey cliff-top condo overlooking the Willamette River. Warren laughed again and shook his head.
"Let me get this straight. You can't pay, but you'll give me two nights in the sack for $625 a night?"
"That's right.. If you buy me, you pay what I'm worth."
"Not a chance. You owe me $1,250, and tomorrow at six it goes to $1,500. I want my money."
Jody Warren was short and fat. His face was pocked from acne. His hair was stringy, messy and long. He wore a dirty T-shirt that barely covered the big gut, white and hairless, that protruded above his tight blue jeans.
His zipper was half open.
"Can you pay, Charlotte?"
"You know I can't."
"Maybe you can. You got yourself an exciting body." He petted her breasts.
Charlotte gritted her teeth and held her rigid.
"Tell you what. You want to pay off your loan getting laid, I can find two, maybe three johns a night for you. I'll shoot for $250 and sell at about $200. You earn half. In a week you should be able to work off your loan."
"As a whore?"
"You got special privileges or something? You'll work as a black call girl. You don't walk the streets."
She pulled away. His hand clawed her dress, pulling it off her shoulder.
"Not a chance." She ran for the door.
"Suit yourself. I got twelve guys who'll gang-bang you right now."
Charlotte Albers leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor.
Warren stood over her and lifted her to her feet.
"Hey, Charlotte, sweetheart, it won't be that bad. Course you know I got to test you out first before I can offer you to my customers."
She stared through him.
"As soon as you pay off the loan, you can keep on working or quit. That's up to you."
He pulled the remaining thin white strap off her shoulder and drew the white dress down to her waist. She wore no bra.
"Yeah, Charlotte, I think we'll make some money together. Come in here and we'll find out for sure."
Two hours later, Charlotte Albers sat in a bedroom on the fourteenth floor of the Rose Hotel. She was naked. A white man twice her age drank from a glass and put it on a dresser.
"Little lady, that was fine. I mean fine! Warren sure can pick good whores."
Charlotte stared at the wall.
She turned. "May I go now?"
"Go? Hell, no! We got an all-night deal here, sweetheart. We're just getting started."
She got off the bed and headed toward a doorway.
"Where you going?"
"Bathroom."
She might get paid off, but not in a week or two. It would take a year! She could never stand the humiliation.
"After I use the bathroom I'm dressing and going home," she announced. "You're a disgusting pig!"
"You shitty little slut. Nobody calls me names."
"I'm not a slut!"
"What is this, a church picnic? You sell your ass for your bread, girly."
"You've got no right..." Charlotte ran for the bathroom, and stared at her image in the mirror.
When she came out she was crying.
I'm sorry, Leen. I'm so sorry!
She opened the sliding-glass door that led to the balcony.
The man looked up at her.
She stared back for a moment, then rushed forward and dived over the railing.