Read Council of Kings for Free Online Page A

utilized all his skill from the Southeast Asian hellground.
    Bolan had fought thirty-eight campaigns against the Mafia when, to the consternation and embarrassment of the U.S. at not being able to control this rampaging tiger, the President issued a pardon. After Bolan's war wagon flamed out in Central Park, Bolan was presumed "dead." Secretly he rose again from the ashes as Colonel John Phoenix, working under government sanction.
    This time the new enemy was terrorism.
    Eventually he was framed by the KGB for a political murder in Europe, then hounded by his own government, which had fallen for the frame. A mole in the U.S. intelligence operation facilitated a KGB-sponsored attack on Bolan's command center, Stony Man Farm. The assault led to the death of April Rose, Bolan's true love.
    Bolan struck at the heart of Mother Russia even as the United States and friendly nations searched for him. In one climactic showdown, he fingered and executed the mole in front of the U.S. President.
    By his action, he had broken sanction. He was alone again.
    Now the KGB, the CIA and police everywhere searched for the Executioner, hoping to haul him in because of the outrageous success of his vigilante actions.
    Now another force was looking for him as well: the Mafia, and they put cash behind their search.
    One million dollars for Bolan's head.
    The vigilante was scaring the hell out of evil once again!

8
    The Executioner knocked on his brother's hotelroom door, then tried the handle. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open and entered. A pretty black woman was wagging a finger at Johnny as she talked. Johnny stood listening, dressed in pajama pants with no shirt. An electric shaver was in his hand and an embarrassed expression was on his face.
    "Hey, the boss is here. He's the man you should talk to."
    The girl turned, and Bolan saw that she was beautiful. She wore a single gold chain around her neck, conservative makeup, a jungle-green blouse and a lighter-green skirt. She stared at Bolan, and something like recognition came into her face. She said, "This young man came around yesterday asking me a lot of questions about my sister Charlotte Albers, and right away I got to thinking that he was asking questions no real reporter or writer would want to know. Can you tell me what is going on?"
    Bolan moved forward, his hand out. "I'm sorry about your sister. You look exactly like her."
    ""Exactly" is the right word. We are were identical twins." The woman stared again at Bolan, who still wore the mustache. He had taken off the dark glasses. Her hand flew to her mouth. "My God! You're the one on the front page of the paper yesterday. The Executioner!"
    "Mrs. Granger, you are safe. We are trying to find out if your sister was involved with a loan shark."
    "You kill people. You shot those three men yesterday." She sat down on the bed.
    Bolan stepped in front of her. "Did Charlotte borrow money from a loan shark?"
    "Yes, she sure did. They were the ones that killed her!" She told them about the phone call, Charlotte's need for money, even the name of the man she went to see. "I believe in an eye for an eye," she added slowly. "I think you should do your thing."
    "First, tell me the name of the loan operation."
    "No, not unless you let me go along and help."
    * * *
    Twenty minutes later they were driving in her car down a street that showed mostly black faces.
    "This block, halfway down," said the woman.
    They circled and came up in an alley.
    Around the back of the King Finance Company was a small sign. The door was locked. Bolan used a credit card to open the door.
    No one was in the room. It was filled with boxes of paper forms, an old desk and a secretary's chair with one caster missing. They slipped into the room, and Bolan unleathered the Beretta as he moved to the connecting door.
    They could hear voices in the next room.
    Bolan opened the door a crack. He saw a short hall, a front counter and offices on both sides. Two men stood talking