"What are you saying, Jimmy? This boy's had plastic surgery?"
"Looks that way."
The captain rubbed his chin. "Well, that don't change anything for now. Lock him up and wait for the fingerprint results. I think he's going to be spending some time in a Georgia jail."
There was a knock on the door.
The captain pulled it open.
"What?"
The uniformed cop outside pointed to Bolan.
"His lawyer's here. Wants to see him."
"In a second."
The uniformed cop nodded and left. The captain faced the skinny plainclothes cop. "Let him jaw with his lawyer. Meantime, tell the D.A. what we got. This looks like one case we won't have to bargain down. This tough guy's going all the way."
3
"What kept you?" Bolan asked.
Hat Brognola closed the door behind him, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief.
"I see you've been busy making friends again. The precinct captain looked at me as if I were defending Charles Manson."
"I grow on people."
"The list of people you've grown on who want to yank your roots gets longer."
"That's why I'm here. Right?"
Brognola sighed as he sat down. "I'm not so sure this is such a good idea, Mack. You're leaving yourself wide open. It's still not too late to change your mind."
Bolan shook his head. "Appreciate the thought, Hal, but I'm already here. Things are moving according to plan. I should be out of here before the paperwork's even done. I don't think they'll make any connection between me and the Executioner. What about the liquor store clerk?"
"He'll pick you out of the lineup."
"His wounds?"
"The best makeup artist around applied them herself. Looks like you laid an eight-inch gash across his forehead. That should add another couple of years to your sentence."