Miami Massacre

All this fitted neatly into Bolan's developing strategy. As long as the Mafiosi had been intermingled with the "straight" public, his angle of attack had to be geared to pinpointed singling-out and man-to-man confrontations. But with them clutched up in an exclusive gathering, Bolan could go for the big strike, using massive-kill techniques — he did not need to walk amongst them.

Bolan did, however, need a "hard drop" — a site with reasonable cover from which to conduct the assault. He had worked his way to the water's edge and just north of the hotel. The illumination from the Hacienda's outside lights was creating a twilight effect all along the ocean-front in that immediate area, except right at the waterline where the sloping beach provided a thin band of dense shadows. The tide was ru

"Hey, go tell Augie we need a smoking tent out here."

"Go to hell."

"Hey, my brother Angelo was in the navy. He says you gotta climb up inside your ass to light up, but then you got another hazard."

A chuckle, and, "Come over here and lend me your ass then."

Bolan slipped on past and made the overhang of the galleon. The mock-up was built to look as though the ship had been run aground, bow end to, and rode perpendicular to the beach. At high tide, very little of the floating pier was resting on dry sand and much of it was actually afloat. Now, with the tide ru

Ha

"Standard riot roll, captain?" he inquired.

"We'll play it by the seat of our pants," Ha

The officer nodded and peeled off toward his own vehicle. Ha

Lavangetta intercepted George the Butcher as the latter was making his way along the covered walkway toward his room. He said, "Listen, Georgie, I think it's about time we had an understanding."

Aggravante tried to push past him. "I've understood you for a long time, Ciro," he replied.

"I don't think you have, Georgie, and I think that's been the cause of all our trouble."

"You've never been any trouble to me, Capino," the old man replied nastily.

"That's all over with now," Lavangetta assured him, and quietly slashed George the Butcher's throat from ear to hairy ear.

The Boss of Arizona stepped quickly clear and dropped the knife into a lily pond, then began hoarsely shouting, "Get 'im! Get that guy! Get-"

His voice was quickly drowned out in the roaring of a heavy revolver in the courtyard just beyond, as Salvatore Di Carlo unloaded his gun into the roof. Nervous fingers all about the enclosure quickly joined in and a hail of slugs began chewing up the roof area directly above Aggravante's room.

Lavangetta had run into the courtyard, gun in hand, and joined the firing party. Augie Marinello charged out, flanked by two smooth-faced men in impeccable Palm Beach suits. "What is it?" he cried. "What's going on?"

"That Bolan!" Lavangetta spat. "He just shived Georgie Aggravante!"

Di Carlo ran over to corroborate the story. "He swung up on the roof," he excitedly reported. "I think maybe I hit 'im!"

One of the Talifero twins snapped a vaguely disbelieving glance at his partner and said, "Let's check."

The other brother waved his arm in a signal to the quickly approaching hardmen and led them in a ru

Bolan had quietly dispatched three of the galleon's sentries and was working his way toward the fourth when the pandemonium erupted in the courtyard, some twenty yards distant. The hardmen of the beach area congregated in a loose knot, then began spilling slowly toward the disturbance. Some one yelled, "Bolan's on the roof!"

From the darkness just ahead of Bolan, a galleon hardman softly called over, "You guys back there stay put. Me'n Happy are go

The only one remaining "back there" was Bolan. In a softly slurred voice, he replied, "Sure, sure."

Two men ran down the gangway and up the beach toward the hotel. Bolan quickly reco

A tight clutch continued to hold forth on the beach directly below Bolan's position. He decided that he should take them first. He checked the clip on the M-16, positioned the switch for automatic fire, and swept 30 rounds of tumbling projectiles into the group at 700 rounds per minute. They went down like pins in a bowling alley, and then the heavy weapon was swinging over and up and Bolan's hand was moving onto the pistol grip of the M-79.

Chapter Seventeen

Holideath I

The bell tower exploded and rained debris into the courtyard, the heavy bell itself crashing down onto the balcony of the penthouse. Augie Marinello froze and cried, "My god, what . . ."

A calm voice from the roof called down, "He's firing from the pier. How the hell did he get-" The speech ended abruptly with another detonation and a sweeping spray of ballbearing-size buckshot, and the Talifero swung himself recklessly over the edge of the roof and into the courtyard, landing jarringly on his feet.

"On the roof, eh?" he yelled at Salvatore Di Carlo.

Another projectile impacted several yards to the side of Marinello and released a cloud of smoke. Someone coughed and exclaimed, "Tear gas!"

The courtyard was in a state of unrestrained panic now as another round of high-explosive sailed in, this time directly on target into a crowd of scrambling men. Instantly-mangled bodies were hurled in all directions and a cry of consternation swept the Spanish gardens. Talifero was swearing loudly and trying to lead a pack of hardmen through the confusion as round after round of grenade, buckshot, and tear gas continued to pelt the bawling mob. Men were leaping into swimming pools and lily ponds, crowding into cabanas, and racing for covered walkways as the panic reached peak level and the assault continued without letup.