Assault on Soho

PICK UP THE EXECUTIONER!

The car was taking repeated hits and swerving erratically when Bolan reached it. A door flew open —Bolan dived in.

Off they went—

He had an impression of soft curves, a nice fragrance, a leather skirt high on gleaming thighs—

The Executioner added a fresh clip to his gun as the car squealed in a tight circle around the railway station, then plunged down a narrow street.

Bolan didn't understand: Why was he being rescued from the Mafia? Who was the beautiful lady in the expensive car? And where the hell were they heading now, racing away from the police sirens?