It had been a good opener, sure. But only if the war remained open.

"Why not?" he said, in response to the girl's question. "Let's go."

She spun about and glided gracefully back through the synthetic gardens, keeping to the shadows and moving surely along an arcing path toward the far side.

Bolan kept her in sight, his weapon at the ready, and his instincts in quivering alertness.

Whatever and whomever the China doll was, she was at least an unknown factor, a variable. It was more than Bolan could say for anything else awaiting him in that mist-shrouded night.

Sure, he'd follow her. To his grave, maybe.

But, then, all of Bolan's roads led inevitably to that same point, anyway. Maybe this one would be a bit longer, a bit more scenic, than any of the others presently available.

A guy had to follow his stars.

And somehow, for openers, this one seemed right. A China doll leading him out of a synthetic Chinese hell.

But into where?

Bolan scowled, hugged his weapon, and followed his guide into the unknown.

At least one thing was certain. He had drawn blood at San Francisco, and soon it would be flowing in buckets — his own very probably included.

For good or for bad, another Executioner war was underway.

2

War Zone

Half of the firefighting equipment in the city seemed to be spotted around the China Gardens. Fire hoses were strung out in precise patterns and firemen swarmed everywhere, many of them wearing asbestos gear and equipped with oxygen masks.

It was a real scorcher. It was a damned lucky thing that this joint was sitting out by itself this way, or half of North Beach would have gone up with it.

Detective Sergeant Bill Phillips of the Brushfire Squad paced restlessly about the Life Emergency command post, trying to put the pieces together in his mind and impatiently waiting to get down onto the scene.