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haven't I."
    He said, "Yeah, all the way."
    "Well what else can you expect? I mean, that's the kind of broad I am. Right?"
    He told her, "I hope not."
    "Well... not deep down. I mean, not down where it really counts. I guess I just got turned off on myself, huh? I mean, when you ball six or seven hours a day on scummy sheets under bright lights with the whole world watching you... well I guess you sort of get turned off on yourself."
    Bolan said, "I guess you could."
    "We only do it when we need the bread. We — Panda and me — we live over in Sausalito. Us and a bunch of other lads. On a houseboat."
    He said, "Okay."
    "I haven't had a good ballin' since I started this crummy business. I guess I'm just turned all the way down."
    "Too much honesty, maybe," Bolan quietly suggested.
    "Huh?"
    "Romance is a system of tender deceits. Right? Even the beasts of the field go through courtship rituals. You know?"
    She said, "Right, right, I know."
    Bolan ended an embarrassed silence with, "Uh, Mary Ching is bringing some people over here in a little while. Maybe you girls would rather not be around during that. It just could get rough."
    The girl said, "Right, right. I guess we'd better split."
    "Don't, uh, don't mention seeing me, Cynthey. Okay?"
    "Right, right."
    "I'll go outside and let you girls have some privacy."
    "Oh sure. Say, uh... Executioner... I'll be at the flick studio up on Geary for the next few days, eight to five. If you, uh, have time..."
    "I'll try," he promised.
    The other girl was watching him over the edge of her blanket. She sat up suddenly, holding the cover close to her, and said, "Cynthey, don't get yourself involved with this guy. You know what he is."
    Cynthey was giving Bolen a dewey-eyed look.
    He sighed and said, "Both of you keep clear. And if you like Mary Ching, then don't breathe a word linking me to her. It could mean her life. Right?"
    He got up and went out, slinging the machine-pistol over his shoulder and blending into the darkness of the hallway to await a meeting with "allies."
    The two girls came out a few minutes later and hurried down the stairs. They did not see Bolan and they were arguing about something in angry whispers.
    Panda Bare and Cynthia.
    Bolan grinned sadly and shook his head.
    Yeah. San Francisco was some kind of town.
    As he waited in the darkness, he decided that maybe the old city was over-infested with too many diverging ideas of "honesty."
    Maybe the golden city could use a bit of romantic deceit, some good, old, common jungle courtship.
    He waited there in the dark, took the matter under advisement, and promised himself that he would get to the heart of San Francisco... or die trying.
    Yeah, he could sure die trying.

4
Friends and Enemies
    There were three of them plus the girl, and Bolan waited until all were framed in the light from the open doorway before he made his move.
    He came up from the rear with the stuttergun at the ready, and commanded, "Freeze! Hands on the head while I get a look at you!"
    There was no argument.
    He patted them clean, removing hardware and sending them inside one by one. The girl turned over her tiny weapon without a murmur and went in with a half-smile on her face.
    The look of these men, two of them anyway, recalled in Bolan's mind the buried memories of Korea — and those memories were not so pleasant.
    There was something about the Chinese that stood them apart from other Asians, especially as fighting men. There was a hardness of the mind there which was reflected in the face, in the way the head rode atop those shoulders — and there was an inherent ferocity of the spirit which Bolan had found in no other Asian nationals.
    Yeah, these were fighting men.
    The incessant wars of a thousand centuries were burned into their genes.
    Bolan had learned to respect them in Korea... and he respected them now.
    The third man had moved on beyond that — from warrior to wise man. He dressed as most San Franciscans do — in an all-seasons