Free Save the Children by Don Pendleton

and back entrance onto the terrace fronting the river.
    The walls of this skyscraper were smoked glass, with a double door in the middle of the first floor.
    Bolan headed for the parking lot on the far side of the building.
    If he could get hold of a car...
    He heard the police pounding after him.
    The night was alive with shouts and movement, the occasional innocent bystander scurrying out of his way. The sounds of more sirens barreled toward him from all sides beyond the building.
    This time they had him boxed in tighter than along Lakeshore Drive.
    These would be some of the same men, he reasoned, and they would be out in full force, for blood...
    * * *
    He gained the parking lot with those cops no more than seventy-five yards behind him.
    Mack Bolan looked around wildly. The odds were against him finding an unlocked vehicle. He ducked between two cars and crouch-walked along the row of autos until he came to the last car. It was parked closest to the wall that bordered the lot.
    The Executioner knew that he was running out of time. The pursuing police would fan out around him in the parking lot the moment they arrived there.
    If they found him where he crouched now, there was no way he would be able to avoid a shoot-out with the cops. And it was something that he didn't even want to contemplate. Still Bolan had no intention of losing it all in Chicago.
    He dropped flat onto his stomach and bellied under the car, knocking the back of his head on the undercarriage a couple of times in the process.
    He wasn't there for longer than a couple of heartbeats when he heard an engine gun to life to his right. He turned his head and spotted white-lettered wheels rolling slowly backward out of a parking space.
    Bolan wormed out of his cover to see a young woman behind the steering wheel of a Datsun 300 ZX.
    He raced toward the side of the crawling vehicle and yanked open the driver's door.
    The woman turned a panic-stricken face toward this looming figure in black. The sheer terror told Bolan that she feared for her life.
    It saddened the warrior instantly, because it was a reflection of what "civilized" society had become. He meant the woman no harm, but as far as the lady was concerned, she was a goner. After all, this was Big City, U.S.A.
    Bolan spoke urgently, and it was only then that he saw a measure of relief cross the young woman's face.
    "I need to borrow your car, miss. I won't hurt you."
    She swallowed and slipped out from behind the wheel. Bolan jumped into the Datsun and slapped the gear lever into reverse. The entire encounter had taken less than a minute.
    The Japanese sportster roared backward when he floored the gas pedal. Bolan caught a glimpse of a uniform in the rearview mirror.
    One of the cops was right behind him.
    He slammed a booted foot down on the brake pedal, rocking the Japanese sportster to a stop.
    The cop, who had been running full blast when he saw the car suddenly backing toward him, wind-milled his arms to keep his balance. His palms slapped against the trunk of the stopped Datsun to keep from falling.
    Bolan stomped on the gas, shifting.
    The Datsun jumped forward, right out from under the cop leaning on the trunk.
    The guy fell, and as Bolan pulled away, he saw the officer getting to his feet, dusting off his hands.
    A squad car, top lights flashing, careered into the exit Bolan had been heading for.
    He sped down one aisle of the lot with the cruiser on his tail, siren wailing.
    When he reached the end of the row of parked cars, Bolan spun his steering wheel and felt the tires shuddering on the pavement, the Datsun threatening to roll over as he turned 180 degrees into the next aisle.
    Behind him, the police vehicle did not handle the turn as well, the driver's side crunching into a low brick wall that bordered the parking lot.
    The wall ran around three sides of the lot, Bolan saw as he headed back toward the exit. On the fourth side, the one bordering Wacker Drive, a hedge about the same height