"If those mikes pick up any unusual ruckus--any sharp increase in the
noise level--come running," Malone said. "Otherwise, just sit still
and wait for my signal. Got that?"
"Check," Lynch said.
Malone pocketed the radiophone. "Okay, Tom," he whispered. "This is
it."
"Right," Boyd muttered. "Let's move in."
"Wait a minute," Malone said. He took his goggles and brought them
down over his eyes, adjusting the helmet on his head. Boyd did the
same. Malone flicked on the infrared flashlight he held in his hand.
"Okay?" he whispered. "Check," Boyd said.
Thanks to the goggles, both of them could see the normally invisible
beams of the infrared flashlight. They'd equipped themselves to move
in darkness without betraying themselves, and they'd be able to see
where a person without equipment would be blind.
Malone stayed well within the shadows as he moved silently around to
the alley behind the warehouse, and then to a narrow passageway that
led to the building next door. Boyd followed a few feet behind him
along the carefully planned route.
Malone unlocked the small door that led into the ground floor of the
building adjoining. As he did so, he heard a sound behind him and
called, "Tom?"
"Hey, Malone," Boyd whispered. "It's--"
Before there was any outcry, Malone rushed back. Boyd was struggling
with a figure in the dimness. Malone grabbed the figure and clamped
his hand over its mouth. It bit him. He swore in a low voice, and
clamped the hand over the mouth again.
It hadn't taken him more than half a second to realize what, whoever
it was who struggled in his arms, it wasn't a boy.
"Shut up!" Malone hissed in her ear. "I won't hurt you."
The struggle stopped immediately. Malone gently eased his hand off the
girl's mouth. She turned and looked at him.
"Kenneth Malone," she said, "you look like a man from Mars."
"Dorothea!" Malone gasped. "What are you doing here? Looking for your
brother?"
"Never mind that," she said. "You play too rough. I'm going home to
Mother."
"Answer me!" Malone said.
"All right," Dorothea said. "You must know anyhow, since you're
here.... Yes, I'm looking for that fatheaded brother of mine. But now
I suppose it's too late. He'll--he'll go to prison."
Her voice broke. Malone found his shoulder suddenly occupied by a
crying face.
"No," he said quickly. "No. Please. He won't."
"Really?"
Boyd whispered: "Malone, what is this? It's a hell of a place for a
date. And I--"
"Oh, shut up," Malone told him in a kindly fashion. He turned back to
Dorothea. "I promise he won't," he said. "If I can just talk to your
brother, make him listen to reason, I think we can get him and the
others off. Believe me."
"But you--"
"Please," Malone said. "Believe me."
"Oh, Ken," Dorothea said, raising her head. "Do you mean it?"
"Sure I mean it," Malone said. "What have I been saying? The
Government needs these kids."
"The Government?"
"It's nothing to worry about," Malone said. "Just go on home now, and
I'll call you tomorrow. Late tonight, if I can. All right?"
"No," Dorothea said. "It's not all right. Not at all."
"But--"