“Lead the way,” Blade instructed her.
“What if I pick the wrong door?” Lex responded.
“We’ll have to take that risk,” Blade said. “Let’s go.” He drew the Browning and motioned for them to precede him.
Lex headed for the nearest door, Rikki by her side with the knife held in his right hand.
Blade backed from the room, keeping his eyes on the door to the far hallway.
The Leather Knights were pounding down the hall.
Blade reached the door used by Lex and Rikki, turned, and darted into its dim interior.
Not a moment too soon.
Dozens of Leather Knights surged into the brick chamber. A great shout went up at the sight of the dangling chains.
“They’re gone!” a man yelled above the rest. “But how?”
“We didn’t pass ’em!” a woman bellowed. “They must have used one of the other doors!”
Immediately the Leather Knights divided up, some taking the first recessed door, others the second, and the smallest group the last door. In a minute, the chamber was vacant.
Far along the murky hallway and racing like the wind, Blade detected a swelling in the voices behind him as leather garbed bikers filled the narrow corridor.
Where did this lead?
Blade hoped the hall wasn’t a dead end. He doubted the Leather Knights would bother to take them prisoner a second time, not after what he had done to Terza and Cardew. He locked his gaze on the shadowy forms of Rikki and Lex 30 feet ahead. If they could reach the alley Lex had mentioned, they might be able to hide in a nearby building. He wished he were outdoors instead of deep under the earth. A troubling sensation of claustrophobia enveloped him.
Spirit preserve him!
Blade glanced over his right shoulder, but couldn’t perceive any movement to his rear.
Good.
They were losing the SOBs!
Blade faced front again and pounded after Rikki and Lex—
Rikki and Lex!
They were gone!
Blade stopped and peered into the gloom beyond. Had they outdistanced him? What could have happened?
“Blade!” came a subdued cry from Rikki. “Blade! Where are you?”
Blade twisted. Rikki’s voice was coming from his left and behind him.
“Blade!” Rikki called once more.
“I’m here!” Blade yelled. “Where are you?”
“Did you miss the turn?” Rikki asked.
What turn? Blade realized he’d probably overlooked it when he had turned his head and scanned the tunnel! Now they were separated! “I must have missed it!” Blade confirmed.
“I’ll keep talking,” Rikki shouted. “Follow my voice.”
Blade backtracked, running full speed, searching for a fork in the hallway.
“There’s light ahead!” Rikki was saying. “It might be the alley!”
Blade reached a darkened bend in the hallway and discovered another branch bearing to the left. He was about to enter, but a sudden commotion rearward drew his attention.
Leather Knights were charging toward him from the direction of the brick chamber!
Blade hesitated. If he followed Rikki and Lex, the Leather Knights would chase after them to the alley and beyond. But if he stayed where he was, if he didn’t take the left branch, Rikki and Lex could escape unmolested.
“There’s one of ’em!” screamed a tall woman.
He’d been spotted! Blade turned his back on the left branch and took off, the Browning in his right hand.
With gleeful cries, the Leather Knights ran after the giant Warrior, ignoring the left branch in their eagerness to capture Blade.
As he raced deeper into the winding labyrinth below the library, with many of the tunnels and hallways bearing evidence of recent excavation, Blade wondered if he’d made the right move. Lit lanterns were few and far between. Often he would cover over a hundred yards in nearly complete darkness.
Some of the Leather Knights were carrying torches or lanterns, and the swiftest of them kept their quarry in sight as they doggedly pursued him, his fleeing form always visible, but barely, at the periphery of their flickering light.
Blade was beginning to think he might outdistance them. A grim smile touched his lips at the prospect. After he eluded them, he intended to scour the library for his weapons. Leaving St. Louis without his Bowies was unthinkable; the big knives were as much a part of him as his arms or legs.
The Leather Knights were determinedly sticking to his heels.
A lantern appeared directly ahead, suspended from a hook in the wall.
A junction, Blade thought.
But he was wrong.
Blade slowed, expecting to find a branch or fork in the hallway. Instead, he discovered a solid brick wall.
It was a dead end!
Furious, he whirled, facing the converging Leather Knights. They had him right where they wanted him! Outnumbered, with nowhere to turn!
He raised the Browning and sighted on the nearest figure, now approximately 20 yards away.
Let them come!
They were about to learn why the Warriors were respected and feared far and wide.
Blade sighted and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Thirteen
Hickok’s amazement was plainly written all over his face. He gawked at the edifice before him, feeling as if he had stepped back through the pages of history to a prior era, to another day and age. He’d seen aged photographs of the White House in several of the books in the Family library, but the reality of actually observing the historically significant structure dwarfed the perceptions derived from viewing a picture. He could see six massive columns, formerly white but now faded and tarnished, in the middle of the building. On either side of the columns the walls were in fairly good shape, although all of the windows were broken or missing. A section of roof above the columns had caved in, littering the base of the columns with debris. “I’m in Washington, D.C.,” the dazed gunman said to himself.
“Indeed you are,” General Malenkov confirmed.
“But I can’t be!” Hickok declared. “How’d I get here?”
“You were transported via helicopter,” General Malenkov explained.
“All the way from St. Louis?” Hickok was boggled by the news. “That must be a thousand miles!”
“About eight hundred and sixty,” General Malenkov stated. “You were unconscious the entire trip.”
Hickok forced his mind to buckle down, to get a grip on his dilemma.
How in the world was he going to get back to St. Louis? Eight hundred miles through hostile territory would be well-nigh unachievable. He needed time to think, to formulate a plan of action.
“Washington is the last place you expected to be, eh?” General Malenkov said.
Hickok nodded. “I don’t understand. I’d heard Washington suffered a direct hit during World War III.”
“It did,” General Malenkov affirmed.
Hickok pointed at the White House. “Then what’s that doin’ there? A direct hit would’ve leveled the city.”
General Malenkov leaned on the metal table. “A direct strike by a conventional thermonuclear device would destroy the city, yes. But we did not use a conventional device.”
Hickok glanced at the general. “What did you use?”
“A neutron bomb.”
Hickok’s brow furrowed. “A neutron bomb?”
“Do you know what they are?” General Malenkov inquired.
“I think I read something about ’em years ago,” Hickok said. “But I can’t recollect what it was I read.”
“I will enlighten you,” General Malenkov offered. “To understand what happened, you must appreciate our strategy during the war. You see, Americans back then were really quite stupid. Only half of the population really believed a war was inevitable. The other half was either too absorbed in their own lives to even reflect on the likelihood of a conflict, or else they were gullible liberal fanatics who ignored our conquests worldwide and discounted all of our literature and policy statements clearly stating our goal of global domination. And even when the subject of a nuclear exchange was considered, the fools panicked. To them, a nuclear war was a worst-case scenario. Total annihilation. Radiation contaminating the environment for thousands of years to come.” The general chuckled. “Of course, the American military leaders knew better, but they could not overcome the bias and ignorance of the media elite.