Politician's M-203 spoke next. A single, carefully aimed shot entered a terrorist's left eye and blossomed in a small fountain of gore from the crown of the head.
Terrorist bullets, fired in panic, began chopping up the doorway. That won Lyons time to flank the terrorists. He stood where they formed a row of targets, with the captives on one side and the doorway holding Pol and Gadgets on the other. The Atchisson Assault 12 shotgun spoke twice with booming authority.
The two goons closest to Lyons disintegrated from the waist up. They became a barrage of chunky red debris. The one farthest from Lyons remained recognizable as a human being, but she was just as dead.
"Dr. Lao, where is she?" Lyons barked at the terrified staff.
His commanding voice rallied several workers from their state of shock and bewilderment. Three hands pointed back past the reception area. "She's in the end office, third hallway."
"Thanks. Now, get out of here," Pol commanded. He pointed to a fire exit at the end of the room.
Pol and Gadgets then followed Lyons who was already on his way toward the other side of the building.
The first corridor they encountered had a single terrorist guard at one end. She lounged against the wall at the mouth of the hall, her 16-gauge shotgun pointing down the passageway, keeping victims confined to their offices until they could be questioned. At that moment it was the wrong way for the shotgun to be pointing.
Gadgets sent three bullets through the terrorist's brain. She died before she realized she was in trouble.
A half-gagged shout of pain came from the next hallway. Able Team rounded the corner on the run. Three terrorists were questioning a prisoner. Two had M-16s slung over their shoulders and were holding the arms of a man in a white coat. A third had the tip of a pump action, 12-gauge Marlin Glenfield pointed at the man's face. A trickle of blood ran down the victim's chin from where the muzzle had knocked out a tooth. The lab worker's knees had buckled and much of his weight was being supported by the two who were holding his arms.
"Tell us again what you do here," the holder of the shotgun was demanding.
The three terrorists were having so much fun, they did not hear the other armed force until Able Team was on them. Lyons thrust the warm barrel of the Atchisson under the questioner's chin.
The two who were holding the victim let go and tried to swing the M-16s from their shoulders. It was a futile effort. Pol smashed his M-203 into the temple of one, killing him instantly as fragments of skull lacerated animal brain. Gadgets crushed the other's windpipe with his fist, leaving the goon to roll on the floor, choking on his own tissue and blood.
Lyons's shotgun was thrust under the chin so hard that the man was stretched to the tips of his toes. He tried bringing his shotgun around to bear on Lyons.
"Don't lose your head," Lyons told him.
The goon's shotgun continued to swing. Lyons's finger tightened on the trigger. He decorated the corridor with atomized head.
"Move," Lyons instructed the saved man in the white coat. He ran for cover.
A cluster of whizzes sent Able Team diving for safety inside one of the offices.
"Reinforcements," Lyons guessed. "You two find Lao. I'll keep the lice off your asses."
"Cover me," Gadgets told him.
Lyons threw himself on his stomach and squirmed out the door. Before the hail of lead could drop to his level, he sent two blasts from the Atchisson back up the hall. He was rewarded with a chorus of screams from dying terrorists.
While Lyons fired Gadgets dashed across the hall and booted open the opposite office door. He glanced inside to make sure it was empty and then retreated back to the office where his teammates waited. Politician had an HE grenade with an impact detonator loaded into the launcher. As soon as Gadgets was out of the line of fire, he fired the grenade into the far wall of the opposite office.
Lyons sent two more discouraging messages up the hallway while both Gadgets and Pol crossed the corridor.
Two quick kicks enlarged the hole in the opposite wall and made it easy to climb through. Pol and Gadgets found themselves in a lab oh the third corridor.
The two warriors ran for the door.
Gadgets tossed a fragmentation grenade up the third corridor to discourage two terrorists. As soon as the blast came, he and Pol raced the other way to the last doorway in the hall. There was no door left to worry about.
Pol jumped into the room, crouched, ready for action.
By the time Gadgets was through the doorway, terrorists were pouring lead down the hallway after him. The Uzi sent half a clip back up the hall. Those terrorists who were able retreated to the shelter of the cross corridor.
When Jishin told the terrorists to shoot Lao, the computer expert sized up the three additional menaces that had entered her lab. The one in the lead had a seamed face that had met too many blades. He carried an ugly submachine gun, a Japanese-made SCK model 65. The other two had Army-surplus M-16s. She knew she must act quickly or be shot.
The hands wrapped around the SCK were callused from karate. That gave Lao her inspiration. She spoke quickly in Japanese before the terrorists could obey the command.
"This frail old lady needs bullets to help her. I had just kicked her ass when you interrupted."
The plaster on Jishin's face was incontrovertible proof of Lao's words. Two men quickly turned to hide their grins. The cut-up one did not bother. He laughed out loud. Jishin's eyes narrowed with humiliation and fury.
"Maybe women are too soft to become true karateka," the scarred one muttered.
Jishin's voice was like ice. "Perhaps our worthy karate senseiwould condescend to demonstrate to this student?"
Nogi sobered immediately. He had gone too far and his leader would not forgive this loss of face. But Nogi's own dignity would not let him back down at that point. He handed his weapon to Jishin.
"I will try, though if she has given you difficulties, I will need the blessings of the gods to preserve my own skin," he said.
Jishin laughed at him, confirming the knowledge that there would be no forgiveness from her. He knew she would not kill him as long as she needed him to train these stupid, long-nosed recruits, but the knowledge brought him no comfort at all.
Nogi, karate instructor and trainer of killers, advanced almost casually on his prey. He looked as if he was still getting ready to fight when his foot flashed out like a bolt of lightning. The kick was intended to make a field goal with Lao's head.
Lao bent away from the kick and her small hands grabbed the extended ankle. Then she moved in a large circle. Her left foot described a graceful arc ending in Nogi's exposed crotch.
Jishin decided that losing the karate instructor was a small price to pay for getting Lao out of the way. She brought up the SCK, but pride prevented her from pulling the trigger. She had to regain face by pulverizing that little woman.
In the moment that Jishin hesitated, the decision slipped through her fingers.
Two men in combat fatigues burst through the doorway. One turned back to cover their tails while the other faced the room, bringing his automatic weapon to bear on the two startled terrorists with the M-16s. Jishin felt a momentary pang of envy that someone opposing her should be able to command such fine warriors.
Jishin had the SCK in firing position. She was already targeted on the intruder.