So the big warrior's battle senses had all been on high as he approached the walled property.

That was how he spotted the woman.

The main entrance to the property was another half-mile up and around a corner from the direction in which the lady was heading. But Bolan had shifted his priorities. He reached behind the Vette's bucket seat and withdrew the Startron spotting scope, which was fixed with a window support clamp. He focused behind him on the woman. He couldn't shake his sixth-sense premonition that something was about to happen....

She was still moving away from him at a fast clip along the base of the wall. She seemed too caught up in her own thoughts to have noticed him slow down and pull over. For brief seconds — the one time she glanced back over her shoulder, still not at him but in the general direction of the high, imposing wall — he caught a stunning vision of high-cheekboned loveliness in the scope's greenish glow.

That beautiful face wore an expression of pure, naked terror.

A four-year-old Datsun entered the Startron's field of vision and braked to a stop at the curb near the woman. Bolan implanted the license number in his memory, then shifted his attention to the youthful-looking guy in his mid-thirties who leaped out from the driver side of the Datsun and dashed directly toward the lady.

Bolan felt himself tensing. He wondered what this confrontation he was witnessing was about. Did it concern his mission?

He relaxed.

There was no danger to the blonde from that quarter. No danger at all. The man and woman met in a passionate embrace and a long, soulful kiss. Then the guy took her hand and led her back toward the car. She accompanied him willingly, taking time for only one more apprehensive look over her shoulder at the wall.

Bolan pulled back from the scope, relieved that this was a false alarm.