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hundred soldiers." Mildred glanced around the hallways. "What in hell were
scientists doing here that required that much protection?"
Dean started to answer, when Doc interrupted.
"Excuse me, but where are J.B. and Krysty?" the old man demanded, glancing
about.
Shocked, the companions quickly looked around, but the two were nowhere in
sight, the long hallway behind them clear all the way to the elevator bank and
dark stairwell.
Chapter Nineteen
Snarling in rage, Krysty triggered another burst from her M-16 into the
Plexiglas wall, the slugs slapping into the soft material and staying there.
The moment J.B. broke open a locked drawer in the desk, the transparent
barrier silently descended from the ceiling to seal them off in a heartbeat.
They shouted for the others, and fired rounds into the walls and ceiling, but
the companions walked away, obviously not hearing a thing.
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"Same as the windows downstairs," she cursed, working the bolt to clear a jam.
"Must be some kind of a burglar trap."
"Millie says folks were allowed to chill thieves in the predark world," J.B.
muttered from under the desk. "Stupidest thing I ever heard of& ah! Found it!
There's a hidden button down here."
"Mebbe it opens this," Krysty said, tapping the barrier with the rapidfire.
"Press it, quick."
"Have already," the man replied. "Anything happen?"
"Nothing."
An annoyed grunt. "Shit! I'll try different combinations. One long, one short,
two in a row. Let me know as soon as it moves."
"Gotcha."
Suddenly, Ryan and the rest of the companions ran into view. Stopping before
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the sealed-off alcove, they stared at the Plexiglas shield. Ryan asked a
question, but
Krysty touched her ears and shook her head. Understanding that vocal
communication was impossible, the one-eyed man frowned and stepped closer,
looking at the slugs embedded in the plastic material. Reaching in a pocket,
he withdrew a gren and gestured her to move away.
"The others are back," Krysty said, moving behind the desk. "Ryan is going to
try a gren."
"Good," J.B. replied, getting out from underneath the desk. "I wanted to use
the
Claymore, but trapped in here the concussion would have pulped us both flat."
In the hallway, the companions started making a pile of furniture to help
contain the blast of the gren, when Krysty noticed one of the elevators down
the hallway open its doors. Standing inside the lift was a droid, its belly
needier swiveling in
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search of prey. Nobody in the hall seemed to notice the arrival of the
elevator and continued working to free their trapped friends.
"Ryan, droid!" Krysty screamed, firing her M-16 in the direction of the
approaching machine as a warning.
The impact of the 7.62 mm rounds into the barrier had to have made some small
noise because Ryan looked up in time to see the droid crawling from the
elevator.
Without hesitation, the man triggered the flamethrower, the burning lance
washing over the machine in a hellstorm of liquid destruction. Blinded by the
flames, the droid cut loose with its needier, the slivers tearing apart the
pile of furniture as wood chips and stuffing exploded into the air like
confetti.
Dropping to a knee, Dean assumed a firing stance and triggered the Weatherby,
a foot-long tongue of flame erupting from the longblaster. The droid jerked
from the brutal impact of the heavy slug into its armored hull, the needier
going wild, hosing the deadly slivers into the ceiling, chewing the tiles into
dust.
Webley and LeMat booming, Doc hammered the machine with miniballs and bullets
from his twin .44 handcannons. Then, past the flaming droid, the other
elevators opened and two more droids strode out. Any view of the companions
blocked by the flames and furniture, the machines turned their lasers on J.B.
and
Krysty. The Plexiglas wall became spotted with brown patches from the hits,
and soon they couldn't see what was happening on the other side. But as Ryan
sent out another spray, the reinforcement droids swiveled about and marched
over the burning wreckage of their fallen brother, lasers stabbing through the
swirling smoke.
"Bastard button summoned the sec droids," J.B. spit, forcing his hands away
from the Uzi. His friends were fighting for their lives only a foot away, and
there was nothing he could do to help them with the barrier solidly in place.
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