"We just ran out of time," Vance said, slamming the door shut. "Looks
like they've got a grenade launcher. If they can manage to blast
through this door, it's going to ruin our day once and for all."
"Georges is still on-line, and I'm turning the servos as fast as I
can." Her voice betrayed the strain.
"Well, get on with it. They're setting up to fire. I'd guess you've got
about thirty seconds to pull off this miracle of yours."
"I think a hundred and sixty degrees will do it," she said, her voice
now deceptively mechanical, all business. Suddenly he could envision
her running this facility and barking orders right and left. "We're at
one-twenty now. I just don't know if I can focus it in time. Georges
always handled this."
She was tapping on the keyboard, some message to LeFarge. A cryptic
reply appeared on the screen, next to what appeared to Vance to be
computer garbage. Then the motion of the giant servomechanisms seemed
to pick up speed. The radar antennas were swiveling around, and down.
"We're almost ready. Let me get Georges to transfer the power controls
to full manual."
"Christ!" He cocked his Uzi.
"Look," she exploded. "I'm doing my part. How about you doing yours?
Slow them down."
"I don't want to waste any rounds until it's absolutely necessary."
But it looked like that time had come. He opened the door again and
stepped through. Down below, the moon glistened on the rocks, and one
of the gunmen was aiming a grenade launcher. "How long--?"
"Just a couple more seconds now. . . ."
"It's now or never." He took careful aim on the man holding the
launcher. "I'm going to count to five."