Deathbites

18

July 14, 1050 hrs, Salt Lake City, Utah

A weary Carl Lyons sat at the back of the Stony Man executive jet.

Rosario Blancanales walked back toward him.

"Carl, Katz's on the blower," he said. "He's got bad news."

Lyons grumbled to himself all the way up the aisle of the plane. He collapsed into the copilot seat without acknowledging Jack Grimaldi. He snatched up the microphone and growled into it.

"Yeah, Katz."

"I just came from a get-together in Seattle," Katz said, his voice sounding scratchy through the descrambler. "Old Ma Jishin's been gossiping on the telephone again. Time for all raids is now eleven hundred hours, local time."

Lyons glanced at his watch. "That's six minutes from now."

"Right."

Lyons glanced at Grimaldi, whose fingers were flying over his custom flight computer. He did not have to ask the question.

Grimaldi reported. "I can have you over Anderson Androids, the most probable target, in eleven minutes. Can we get a confirm?"

"You going to stand this can on its tail again?"

"Why not? It's fun."

Lyons spoke into the mike again. "Katz, we can reach the target about five minutes after hit time. We need a monitor on the police channels and a confirmation of the target.''

"I'll arrange for the police to give it to you. That way they'll be expecting some 'experts.' You have id if they ask?"

"I'll dig it out. Thanks, Katz."

"No problem. Out."

Lyons went back to Pol and Gadgets.

"Let's get ready. We'll have to walk the rest of the way. Soft armament. The wolves are going to reach the sheep first. Try the gray jump suits and use body armor."

All members of Able Team scrambled to equip themselves and be ready in time to jump.

"Why gray?" Gadgets asked as he put on the jump suit over the custom-made flak suit with its heating-cooling system.

Lyons was selecting id folders from an attache case full. He passed two out to his teammates and pocketed one himself.

"Just a hunch. The most probable target is one of these modern ultrasecure places with no windows."

"Got you," Pol answered. "Good thinking."

"I'm packing extra Gerber Mark l's," Gadgets remarked.

"We may need C-4. Pack lots," Lyons told Gadgets. "Also dig out those infrared flashlights and the goggles that go with them."

"Those damn things must weigh five pounds," Pol complained.

"I'm going to carry an Ingram," Gadgets said.

"No .45s! Uzis with disintegrating ammo and flash suppressors for everyone," Lyons barked. "Move it. We must be about there. Silenced Beretta 93-Rs in the shoulder rigs. Stun grenades only."

Grimaldi stuck his head around the door to the flight deck. "Probable target confirmed. I dump you in 150 seconds from... now. Good luck."

Able Team nodded. Their mental clocks were counting down as they scrambled into the parachutes.

Officer Pat Malone and his partner, Officer Inez Gallic, were the first to answer the report of explosions and gunfire in a new industrial park, east of the University of Utah. It was in one of the new buildings, Anderson Androids Ltd.

The terrorist techniques had been crude, but effective. They had gone to the only entry — it consisted of an outside door, a very small entrance hall, and two electronic doors that led farther into the building — opened the outer door and tossed in a large bundle of explosive. They had then ducked back out and braced the outer doors. The force of the explosion in the small foyer had blown both of the security doors right off their hinges, but the outside doors, which had been braced, were still functional.

Now the terrorists had automatic rifles covering the only entrance to the building. There were not even any windows that could be broken for entry. The building was nothing more than a very fancy concrete box. Those inside were completely dependent on artificial lighting, and air-conditioning.

Inez finished on the radio to headquarters and walked back to where Malone was covering the entrance to the building with his service revolver.

"SWAT on its way?" Malone asked.

His partner shook her head. "Federal specialists be here in another four minutes. Reinforcements are putting up a containment net, but we're to stay out of the building."

"Suits me."

The sky was suddenly filled with the scream of a black jet. The jet, much larger than a fighter, sizzled over the horizon from a low altitude and then began to climb straight up over the industrial park. The engines suddenly flamed out. The plane slowed until it hung motionless in the sky, only about fifteen hundred feet over the building.

"God!" the female cop exclaimed. "It's going to crash right about here."

Just when the plane was almost still, three black forms appeared by the tail. Then the plane lost its grip on the sky. It slipped to one side and came rushing at the earth, left wing first.

Officers Pat Malone and Inez Gallis threw themselves flat on the carefully manicured lawn of the building they were watching. Then they rolled on their side to watch the plane fall toward them.

Slowly, slowly, the left wing began to drag and the nose came forward. Then, with a puff of smoke, the two engines burst into ignition. The plane continued its earthward course, pushed by two huge turbojets attached to the body just behind the wings.

Suddenly the nose began to lift. The plane bottomed out of its dive and screamed away less than fifty feet from the tops of the buildings.

"I didn't see that," Malone said. His voice shook.

Then he remembered the three black forms. He looked back at the spot where the plane had hung motionless in the sky and was surprised to see that three parachutes were already beginning to billow open.

"That isn't really possible, is it?" Inez asked.

"I'm sure it's not," Malone confirmed.

The three jumpers landed perfectly on the soft sod of the company lawn. A tall blond man unsnapped his chute and ran toward the two police officers. They waited, still not quite believing what they were seeing.

The man stood well over six feet tall. He had a shock of blond hair peeking out from under a gray watch cap. His fatigues were gray and there was gray skin cover smeared carelessly on his face. A deadly looking Uzi with a flash suppressor rode on his right thigh in a quick-release clip.

"Malone and Gallic?" The voice was clipped, the words impatient.

"Yes," Malone answered.

"You were told to expect us."

Malone grinned. "Didn't expect anything quite so dramatic. Where's the rest of the crew?"

Carl Lyons gestured to the other two jumpers. Like their leader, they had unsnapped their chutes and let the wind have them. They were consulting a piece of paper and finding a particular spot on the cement wall at one side of the building.

"Just the three of you?''

Cold eyes ignored the question.

"You may need backup," Lyons said. "You might find terrorists coming out this door. I would advise placing yourself against the wall and shooting anyone who comes out the door with a weapon in his or her hand."

"You're kidding."

"I don't kid," Lyons replied.

He then turned his back on the two cops and began to walk around the building. At the next corner Lyons found the power lines leading into the building. He emptied a clip from the Uzi into the connectors. The power lines fell free, crackling their charge into the grass.

"Can either of you throw a grenade?" Lyons asked the cops when he came back.

Gallic nodded. "I was pretty good in the army."

Lyons pulled two concussion grenades off his webbing.

"Get your partner to hold the door. Toss both these in and get the door shut when I give you the sign.''

He left them standing waiting at the only door to the building. Gallic stood where she could see up the side of the building. Malone stood where he could grab the door.

"Now!" yelled his partner.

He yanked the door open and two grenades sizzled past him into the small entrance area. He let go of the door and ran along the front of the building. Automatic fire from inside was so late that it succeeded only in bouncing from the heavy glass of the closing door.

Then the two grenades blasted the door back open. From the side of the building came the sharp crack of another explosion. Malone held his position, revolver trained on the exit. He was relieved to see a riot truck screaming up to the building.

"What's happening?" he yelled to Inez.

"They blasted a hole in the side of the building. I never saw people move so fast. They were all inside before the rubble stopped falling."

Malone shook his head. Only three of them. They were going to have to move faster than bullets. How the hell were they going to get the hostages out in the dark?

The inside of the building was not dark. As soon as the power was cut, the emergency generator had cut in. Between batteries and the latest technology, the power pickup had been so smooth that it was not even noticeable.

Able Team came into a large storeroom as Gadgets had planned. Even here, one emergency light bulb burned.

"Kill it," Lyons ordered.

Gadgets unscrewed the light bulb and spit on the base. He then balanced a quarter over the bulb and screwed it back into the socket.

"That should kill the local fuse," he reported.

The three warriors put on the infrared goggles. When Pol turned on his infrared flashlight, it showed the door quite plainly.

They moved cautiously out of the storage room.

"More light to the left," Lyons said. "Gadgets, find that emergency generator and take it out."

"It doesn't show on the sketchy building plan that we were sent. I'll stick with you until we find the elevators. The stairs to the basement are close to the elevator well."

The three warriors started to jog down a corridor toward the center of the building.

Suddenly two terrorists appeared around a corner. They were dragging a struggling woman between them. Politician was closest to the two goons. The stick in his hand whistled and bounced off the temple of one. He dropped.

The second terrorist spun, bringing his M-16 up as he turned. He was far too slow. The stick bounced back over the head of the victim and poked the terrorist in the throat. He fell back unable to even call out. Politician followed through by grabbing the other end of the jo in his left hand and pressing the stick across the terrorist's windpipe. In a moment he was backed up against the corridor wall, fighting to take the crushing pressure from his air supply.

"Where is the main force?" Politician asked.

"Go to hell," he choked.

"I can tell you that," the woman said.

As soon as she spoke, Lyons's Beretta let out a quiet gasp. The terrorist under Pol's stick acquired a hole in his temple. He folded like a deck chair.

"When these creeps hit, everyone headed for the top floor and barricaded the doors. These killers are still trying to get through the barricade. I hid on this floor. I was trying to sneak out to telephone the police, but they were watching the emergency door as well as the main one.''

"I thought there was only one door," Gadgets said.

She shook her head. "There's one that looks like a cement block. It only opens from the inside."

"Pol, let's start picking off enemy," Lyons said. "Gadgets, get those lights."

Gadgets turned to the woman. "Can you find the emergency generator?"

She nodded.

"Let's go."

Gadgets and the woman went down a flight of metal stairs. Lyons and Politician turned around to go up. Suddenly an explosion washed down the steps, nearly knocking them off their feet.

"The terrorists are on the third floor now," Lyons said grimly. He started to take the stairs quickly, in spite of the noise he made.

Gadgets and the woman reached a subbasement. She threw her light weight into opening the heavy door at the foot of the stairs and almost got herself killed. A hail of bullets deflected from the partly open door and whined around the concrete stairwell.

Gadgets leaped down the last four stairs and slammed his weight against the door to close it. Then he quickly pulled the pin from a concussion grenade and opened the door just enough to toss it in.

The muffled whump of the grenade started opening the heavy door. Gadgets helped it open farther. He already had the Uzi out of its clip and ready. Two terrorists did a brief death shuffle as a figure-eight burst finished the job the stun grenade had begun.

"You sure move fast," the woman breathed.

Gadgets grinned as he quickly disabled the emergency generator.

"As soon as the power was cut off, they must have sent these two to protect the generator. They're very efficient," the woman mused.

Gadgets adjusted the infrared goggles. They were uncomfortable, but necessary. Then with the Uzi in one hand and the infrared projector in the other, he instructed the woman. "Grab my belt. I'll lead you to a way out. If I start shooting or someone starts shooting at us, hit the floor. I'll come back for you."

"Ahh, okay." Some of her confidence seemed to have gone with the light.

He pushed on the heavy door. A bright light hit the infrared goggles, almost blinding him because of the built-in amplification. He rolled away from the door as bullets dug at the doorframe.

"This the only entrance to the generator room?" Gadgets asked the woman.

"Yeah," she confirmed in a shaky voice.

Lyons and Politician were half a flight from the blasted door when the emergency light went out. Two terror goons had been left behind to prevent victims from escaping the top floor. Lyons continued up the stairs.

He surprised the pair with two small flashes and low coughs from a silenced gun at point-blank range. For those two killers the darkness became permanent.

Pol caught up to Lyons and the pair moved quietly through the carpeted halls of the high-tech building. Their infrared goggles separated humans from background. In the infrared light they could tell whether the person was armed. Armed terrorists met a karate blow to the temple or a single 9mm parabellum.

Workers were told in whispers that the stairs were clear for now. They were told to crawl to the stairwell and get out of the fire zone.

Ten minutes of silent confusion reigned on the top floor. The trickle of evacuees became a flow. The bodies of terrorists began to litter the halls.

Then, a match flared over a body. Politician's Uzi was leveled in an instant, but he held his fire. He could not tell what innocents might be farther down the hall. He broke into a run toward the terrorist, but the match went out and the goggles took two seconds to readjust to the lower intensity of infrared light. By the time Pol could see, the terrorist had leaped into a side room and was yelling.

"We've been infiltrated. Retreat. Everyone out."

Lyons and Pol were caught out of position. They had moved forward with speed and efficiency, eliminating terrorists and helping potential hostages to escape. When the shouting began, they were separated and far from the stairwell.

Politician still could not risk the Uzi because he could not see to the end of the hall behind the goons. Terrorists burst out of a room right beside him, and he lost his infrared light in the scramble. He still had the jo tucked into the back of his web belt. He slammed the Uzi back into its clip and drew the fighting stick.

He was among the goons, sweeping and jabbing. Four went down, but eight or nine made it into the stairwell. Then the scene became lighter and he knew that Lyons was back with his infrared light. The rest of the terrorists began to crumple as silent bullets kissed them goodbye, one at a time. Pol did not dare take a weapon out without his light to identify him. He raised his hands and jointo the air.

"I see you, Rosario. Lose your light?"

"Yeah. Eight or nine terrorists are on those stairs between us and the workers."

Lyons wasted no breath. He ran for the stairwell, leaving Pol to fend for himself.

Gadgets went into a crouch by the heavy door.

"Pull it open," he commanded his guide.

She yanked the door open, keeping herself behind it. Gadgets laid a pattern of 9mm tumblers around the light. It dropped to the floor. Another bullet turned it off. Then Gadgets's infrared goggles went back over his eyes and he charged into the stairwell. He perforated both blurs and then turned on the infrared light to check. Both were dead. He jammed a fresh clip into the Uzi as he returned to hook his guide to his belt.

When they reached the ground floor, Gadgets noiselessly detached himself from the woman and indicated for her to wait. He then went into the office area by the main door. Three terrorists spun to see who was approaching.

Squinting against the sudden light, Gadgets sprayed the area with the entire clip. Only one terrorist managed to pull the trigger on his M-16. He sprayed a neat figure eight into the ceiling as he fell backward with two manglers in his chest.

Gadgets returned to the woman. "Go to the door," he said. "Tell them not to shoot. Then go out and tell the police to expect more workers soon.'' She nodded and went.

Gadgets went back to the hall and let his eyes adjust to the faint light of the goggles before moving on. By that time the first escapees from the top floor began to appear. It took only a few seconds to start the chain going out of the building. Then Gadgets began slowly moving against the flow of refugees toward the top floor.

A voice suddenly rang out from half a floor up. "They're on the stairs below us. Spray the stairs."

Gadgets shoved the last two stragglers behind him. Then he pointed the Uzi upward and waited to locate the muzzle-flashes. But before the terror goons could open fire, two concussion grenades dropped from above, scattering them along the steps. Then Lyons closed in from the top and Gadgets from the bottom.

"I think that takes care of things," Gadgets called up the stairs before coming into line with Lyons's Uzi.

Gadgets was ambushed as he emerged from the building and stood blinking in the bright light. Arms and legs wrapped around him and a big kiss was planted on his mouth while long red hair whipped around his head.

"You're fabulous," the redhead he had led out of the building said in a throaty voice. "What can I ever do to repay you?"

"You got a car?"

"Yes."

"How about a ride to the airport for myself and my friends."

The redhead turned to a man in a gray suit who was standing a discreet five feet away.

"Have my car brought around, please."

"Right away, Miss Anderson."

"Did I hear, Miss Anderson?" Pol asked. "Are you related to the founder of this company?"

"I'm the founder," she replied with a grin.

Officer Gallic came up. "One of you called Ironman?"

Lyons nodded.

"Got a call patched through for you from California. You can get it in the cruiser."

It was Brognola.

"Wrapped things up here," the Fed said. "Houston and Seattle are taken care of. How did business go there?"

"A couple of casualties, but better than expected. Who got Jishin?"

"Didn't you?"

"No sign of her. Who's at Elwood Electronics?"

Brognola's voice sounded worried, even through the static. "Only Ti and Deborah."

"Out." Lyons shouted and jumped from the car.

He turned to Inez Gallic. "Run interference to the airport for us."

Able Team scrambled into the waiting Chrysler and took off after the police cruiser.