Read Baltimore Trackdown for Free Online Page A

Slowly Bolan brought the groggy cop back to his senses.
    Chief Jansen shook his head, his vision fuzzy, his mouth tasting foul.
    “What the hell?” He rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them. He looked at Bolan. “Who are you?”
    “A friend, Chief Jansen. Just relax — you’re safe now.”
    “Safe? Where are we?”
    “In my car on the street. I just pulled you out of a motel.”
    “Motel? I went out for a cup of coffee with one of my sergeants. He said he owed me a store-bought cup and he had a problem he wanted to talk about privately.”
    “And then he slipped you some knockout drops. Look at the blood on your hands and your clothes.”
    “Oh, Christ! Mine? Where did it come from?”
    Bolan made sure the chief was totally back in the current time zone, then explained the whole thing to him.
    “Damn! I fell for it. Now I don’t know who to trust! We’ve got to get some units over to that motel!” he exclaimed, still a cop.
    “I reported it. The place should be swarming with cops by now.”
    The chief nodded. “You didn’t tell me why somebody tried to get blackmail evidence on me in that motel. Are you sure the girl was dead?”
    Bolan took out the pictures. One of them had blood splatters on the back.
    The policeman’s eyes widened in astonishment. “They were setting me up. What for?”
    “Certain groups in town want to take over the police department. They have already blackmailed two assistant chiefs. You were the next target. That officer who was shot this morning was probably murdered by one or more of his fellow officers.”
    “No! Captain Davis was with him. One of our best men.”
    “Are you sure? Check out Davis’s bank account. He’s taking two thousand a week in payoff money from the Mafia.”
    Chief Jansen stared at his bloody hands.
    “You’re sure of this?”
    “Yeah. You won’t have to dig far into Davis to find out he’s as dirty as hell.”
    The chief opened the ashtray on the car and burned the pictures of himself. He saved the other shots of the body and nodded at Bolan.
    “I still don’t know who you are, but it looks like I owe my whole career to you. Another ten minutes and they would have had me so tightly tied up I never would have gotten out. How do you fit into this?”
    “Just trying to be helpful.” Bolan turned on the car radio to an all-news station and kept the sound low.
    “Where can I drop you off, chief?”
    “Take me to the side door of the downtown station. I have some clothes there.”
    Bolan heard something and turned up the volume on the radio.
    “And Baltimore police said it was one of the most grisly killings they have seen in a long time. The body of the woman lay faceup on the bed. The bedspread was soaked with blood, and the nude bodies of two men, both shot, lay sprawled on the bed. Two more men, sitting against the steps outside the room, had also been shot dead. Police have blocked off the area and are talking to all witnesses.
    “One man in the motel room next door said he saw one young man running naked down the alley about ten minutes before police arrived. A car that had been parked in front of the room was seen leaving the area, but no one could say who was in the car, or what the license number had been.
    “In other news...”
    Bolan shut it off.
    “You didn’t say anything about the four dead men.”
    “Right, I didn’t. Let’s leave it at that. When you identify them you’ll find them all to be Mafia soldiers connected to Carlo Nazarione, who claims he has no organized-crime affiliations.”
    “At least we know better than that.” The cop shrugged. “Hell, I won’t push to find out who you are. I’ll never be able to thank you for what you did for me today. Now, one ride downtown, then I want to get showered and dressed and back out to that motel.”
    As Bolan let the chief off fifteen minutes later, the cop stared at him a moment. “Have we met somewhere before? Something about your face seems familiar.”
    “Thanks. I