The Executioner and Herzi hotfooted across that street and were caught in the open by the abrupt tramp of dozens of running feet from one end of the block as a group of men in the garb of Druse militia charged into view.

At the opposite end of the block a jeep screeched to a stop.

Bolan saw a.50-caliber machine gun mounted on a swivel in the rear of the jeep, manned by a bearded Phalangist soldier.

Bolan and Herzi readied themselves as they ran for the safety of the mouth of the alley across the street.

Bolan thought they would make it.

Then he caught movement several feet away and a small shadow took form.

"A child," Bolan grunted.

He dived toward a little five-year-old in rags who had somehow wandered from nowhere into this killground. Bolan reached the dirt-smudged bundle and fell across the child as a human shield.

The machine gunner in the jeep opened fire on the Druse in the street. The heavy reports hammered Bolan's eardrums and almost smothered the screams and shouts of the dying as .50-caliber slugs leveled the Muslim militiamen like a scythe chopping wheat. The bullets zinged well over Bolan and the child he protected.

There was a lull in the firing. The screaming stopped.

Bolan scrambled for the alley, carrying the boy.

The Executioner only caught a glimpse of the slaughter splashed across the Beirut street amid a swirling cloud of gunsmoke from the machine gun.

Clutching the Uzi, Herzi stepped out from the shadows to better cover Bolan and the boy.

The Phalangists did not see the big warrior in blacksuit in the gloom.

Bolan heard them good-naturedly congratulating themselves.

Then more movement came from the opposite corner of the block. At least a dozen Muslim fighters and other combat uniforms Bolan recognized as PLO charged the Lebanese army jeep, raining fire on the Phalangists as they ran.