The _kobun_ all whirled back, but she was ready. Stock extended, full
auto.
Jesus, he thought, that hood in the back is holding enough C-4 to clear
a small arena. If she hits one of the detonators . . .
It was either a lucky or an unlucky shot. After eight rounds, less than
a second's worth, a blinding ball of fire erupted where the _kobun_ had
been, sending a shock wave rolling through the open space of the
hangar, knocking over technicians almost a hundred feet away. As Vance
was slammed under the Personnel Module, out of the corner of his eye he
saw Eva being thrown against the doorframe of the office. The air
blossomed with the smell of deadly C-4, like acrid Sterno. Not for
nothing did the U.S. military swear by it.
Now Yuri Androv was peeling himself off _Daedalus II's _landing gear,
his flight suit blackened and smudged. Blood from a bullet wound was
running down the right sleeve.
They'll be coming for us all, Vance thought. Tanzan Mino's probably
somewhere radioing for more guards right now.
Eva was stalking through the smoke, still grasping the Uzi.
"Michael, are you all right?"
"Hell of a morning." He was pulling himself out from under the
Personnel Module, awkwardly trying to straighten his flight helmet.
"You took out the palace guard, everybody but Mr. Big. Congratulations.
And I thought CIA had a patent on that kind of operation."
Already emergency alarms had begun a high-pitched whine, blaring
through the cavernous hangar. Everything around them was chaos.
"You know," she yelled above the noise, "he's going to kill us
immediately. There's no way he's going to--"
"I figure we've got about two minutes to think of something," he yelled
back and pointed. "Check on the pilot. His name is Androv."
"I know. I met him last night." She turned and stared. "We had a small
misunderstanding."
"Well, let's see if he's still in any condition to fly."
"You mean?"
"How else? You got any better ideas, I'd like to hear them."
Yuri Androv had worked his way through the carnage of the explosion,
the scattered remains of Tanzan Mino's phalanx of _kobun_, to again
bend over the form of his father. Once more the cloud of obscuring mist
was flowing over the scene, blanking it.
At that moment, however, a pale glow laid itself around them, the murky
light of overcast dawn. Vance realized the Soviet technicians had
thrown open the hangar doors and were scrambling out onto the tarmac.
Good, let them. We might just follow suit.
Now Yuri Andreevich Androv was approaching, clasping his right arm.
"We've got to get him fixed," Vance said briskly, looking him over,
"put on a tourniquet."
"Think he can still fly?"
"I say we make him fly."
With his left hand Androv peeled back his helmet visor and kissed Eva.
"_Spacebo_," he said in Russian, "you did what I would have done if I'd
had a weapon. But now I don't know what--"
"How's your arm?" Vance cut in. "We've got to make a decision right
now. When the reinforcements arrive, it's game over. One little Uzi
won't handle their firepower."