"Go on," he urged her.

Lucy took another moment to collect her thoughts and bring her voice under control.

"There have been rumors lately that the Mob is facing competition from abroad. The Yakuza, for instance. That's..."

"I know what it is," he interrupted, recalling his encounter with the Japanese mobster organization, on a former mission to the land of the rising sun.

She frowned.

"You seem to know a lot. Who are you, anyway?"

"Let's just say that I'm an interested observer."

She raised an eyebrow.

"You were doing more than just observing at Minotte's. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Well?"

He felt her watching him as they proceeded for another block or two in silence. When she spoke again her tone was thoughtful, introspective.

"There was an item on the wire from Washington last week. Maybe ten days ago..."

The tension spun between them like a taut steel thread as she hesitated before resuming. Bolan felt his stomach turning over as he knew, with sudden certainty, what Lucy Bernstein was about to say.

"It was all about a soldier with a score to settle," she continued. "Seems he doesn't care much for the Honored Society."

"A lot of people feel that way," the Executioner told her, knowing that he could not bluff it out.

"Not many take it this far," she responded evenly. "Fact is, I can only think of one."

His gut was churning, but he kept the tension from his voice as best he could.

"That so?"

She nodded distractedly, seeming lost in her story now.

"I understand that he was out of circulation for a while, presumed dead or some such." She paused briefly for effect, then went ahead. "But now the papers say he's back in action — maybe westbound."

"That's a lot to swallow," Bolan countered, trying to keep it light and flippant, knowing that he missed the mark.