Ronny said, “How many members are there in this supposed revolutionary movement?”
“I don’t know. But I doubt if there’s more than a couple of thousand on both continents.”
Podner said in puzzlement, “This is all new to me. I’ve never even heard of the Sons of Liberty.”
Matt Halloday looked at him. “I doubt if many have. They wouldn’t even approach someone, unless they already knew he was a misfit who couldn’t have made the grade under any sane social system. But you would have heard of them, all right, if, through the workings of Section G, they had taken over all news media, the Tri-Di, vi-ziophone and all other methods of communication. How much of a fight could Hippolyte’s outfit have put up against such a coup?”
The actor shook his head. “None. Practically none. I told you we haven’t any police—except, of course, traffic officials, that sort of thing.”
Ronny said, “How many are there of this Maffeo gang which Damon Kane leads?”
“I’ve met about five of them, I think. They try to blend in with the Amazonian Sons of Liberty, pretend to be Amazonians themselves, but you can tell the difference if you’re looking.”
“Zeke’s one, eh?”
“Of course.”
Ronny said, “Something just cleared up. There was an attempt to kill me on the way to that Heliopolis Street hideout. They must have known I was coming. Possibly they have someone planted in the Hippolyte’s offices. They tried to kill me.”
Matt Halloday scowled. “I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“Oh, yes it does,” Ronny mused. “They also searched my room and broke my communicator so I couldn’t get in touch with Sid Jakes to make a report. They were afraid of me making a report. It might not completely bear out what Sarpedon had reported. I was better dead than alive. Damon could have told them that Section G looks after it’s own. Something like the old days when a criminal killed a cop. All police dropped everything, until the cop-killer was caught. That had to be the rule, if crooks were to be taught that they just couldn’t afford to kill policemen. Kill hold-up victims in the line of work, even kill bank presidents during a stick-up, but don’t kill a cop, or you’ve had it.
“What do you think would have happened, if word had got back to the Bureau of Investigation that supervisor Ronald Bronston had been shot down on the streets of Themiscyra? Hippolyte’s government would have immediately been given credit, and, probably with precious little further investigation of the true situation, Section G would have landed on her like a ton of bricks. The present government would have been tossed into the wastebin. Leaving who? Leaving our Damon and his gang. Once Section G pulls a romp, they fade out quickly, leaving the scene to the locals. They don’t want to be conspicuous. Some of the other restrictive governments of other worlds might smell a rat.”
Podner looked down at the sheet covered girl. “But why Minythyia?” he wailed. “What possible reason did they have for killing her?”
Ronny shook his head, as miserable as the actor. “She must have walked in on them when they were kidnapping Pat O’Gara. They killed two birds with one stone. They finished off the witness, and then, by leaving my Model H shooter, placed the blame on me. That in turn should have infuriated the Hippolyte against the Bureau of Investigation and made more likely some overt move on her part which would sooner or later bring the weight of the Bureau against her.”
Halloday looked at him, thoughtfully. “Why snatch Miss O’Gara?”
“She’s a citizen of Victoria. If something happens to her, on Amazonia, then Article Two of the UP Charter has been brought into effect…” He broke off and snapped suddenly, “Zen! What are we standing around and jabbering about here? They’re going to kill the girl. Nothing else makes sense. They’re getting desperate. Zeke tried to shoot me again, after I untied you. They must be afraid the fat’s in the fire, that I might be getting on to them, not to speak of you. Let’s get going!”
“Going where?” Matt growled. “That Heliopolis address was the only one I knew. I wasn’t with them long enough to find out where Damon and Sarpedon make their central headquarters. Zeke suspected I wasn’t one of the usual Amazonian crackpots who joined the Sons of Liberty, no matter how I tried to act the part.”
Ronny rapped, “He gave me another address. Come on. He’ll remember they did, and possibly they’ll evacuate the place.” He rammed his gun into his waistband.
Podner said, “How about me?”
They both looked at him, impatiently. “Can you handle a shooter?” Halloday rasped.
“I…I know the theory.”
“That you’re supposed to point it, and pull the trigger, eh?” Halloday shot a look at Ronny.
Ronny pulled the gun he had rescued from the bushes and tossed it to the actor. “All right, anybody’s better than nothing. Zen knows how many of them might be there.”
They hurried down the stairs and to the two-seater hovercar.
Ronny rapped. “Podner’ll have to sit on your lap.”
“That’ll make us nice and conspicuous,” Matt growled.
“Why should we mind being conspicuous?” Podner demanded. “From now on we’ll all on the side of the authorities.”
“He’s got a point,” Ronny said. “All bets are down, now. Let’s go!”
The hovercar lifted, only slightly sluggish under the unusual weight, and hummed forward.
“I think I can remember this,” Ronny growled. “It’s over on the edge of the river.”
They found the house which wasn’t overly dissimilar to the underground retreat on Heliopolis. They drove past and completely around the edge of the block. The back faced the river. There were small craft tied up there.
Ronny came to a halt and cased the situation. “Any ideas?” he muttered to Matt.
Matt looked at him sourly. “You’re supervisor rank. I’m just a full operative. You figure it out. Those Maffeo stutes are just as good with a shooter as we are.”
Ronny grunted. “Zeke missed me twice.”
“Third time is lucky,” Matt said dryly.
Ronny said, “All right, Podner. I’m glad we brought you. Get yourself into a boat. One of those tied up behind the houses either to the right or left of our place. If anybody comes out carrying a shooter, except Matt or me, unlimber that artillery I gave you and keep blasting away. It plies a beam that knocks chunks out of anything it touches.”
He turned to Matt. “You’ve got your own Model H?”
“Yes. Happily, I’d hidden my shooter, badge and communicator, Zeke didn’t find them when he overpowered me. He had gone to check with Damon, to find out what to do with me. You let me loose, and when I saw you weren’t following me, I figured you had been nabbed and went on to get my equipment. It wasn’t until later I figured out that if you’d escaped you might go to Patricia O’Gara.’s I made my way over there and came on the scene a few minutes later.”
“All right, just so you have it. Let’s go!”
They rounded the corner again. As they walked, Ronny said tightly, “Our only chance is complete surprise. One of us will go over the roofs and down. All these houses evidently have patio gardens inside. The other will burn the front door down and go in that way. One thing. They’re not going to think in terms of taking prisoners. We can’t either.”
Matt looked at him questioningly.
Ronny growled, “Every one of this Maffeo gang know the real workings of Section G. We can’t afford to allow any of them to babble, later on.”
Matt nodded, uncomfortably.
Ronny said, “Any choice? Over the roof, or through the door?”
The other said, “You can go over the roof.”