Exit Code. Don Pendleton

I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.”

      “I know it. And you’re going to find, Frankie, that if you’re loyal to me, as your reputation dictates, then I’ll be loyal to you. You’ll never want for anything while you work for me. You can ask Serge or any of his boys. Now, I know you’re a contract guy, but I also know you’re out of work and looking for a place to put up your feet. Do this job for me, do it right, and you’ll have a permanent place to call home.”

      “That would be nice, Mr. Lenzini,” Bolan replied meekly.

      “Now, I know you’ve probably seen pictures of me. And I know you’re probably wondering why I look like this and I’ve got my ass parked in a wheelchair instead of on some hot broad. You wondering that?”

      “Yes, actually, I kinda was.”

      “Well, the answer is it’s none of your goddamn business! Okay? You just do what you need to do, worry about yourself, and I’ll take of you. My boys can tell you I’m firm but I’m fair. And I only expect to have this conversation once. We see eye to eye with each other now?”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Good. Now get the fuck out of here.” As he spun the chair he added, “Serge will tell you what you need to do.”

      A moment later, Lenzini exited through the panel almost as quickly as he’d entered. Bolan sat and waited a moment, not sure what to do. He didn’t want to look indecisive, but he had to admit he was a bit surprised by the brief and terse encounter. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. But he could understand now why the federal law-enforcement community had had such a difficult time getting Nicolas Lenzini. Bolan’s meeting revealed that the man the media called Nicolas Lenzini wasn’t really Lenzini. The Nicolas Lenzini known to the rest of the world was an impostor.