The man muttered something angrily in a foreign tongue. Chow merely pressed down harder with his knee. “What’ll we do with him, boss?”
“Let him up, Chow,” Tom said. “Security should be here any second.”
Even as he spoke, Tom glimpsed a jeep speeding toward them in the distance. The young inventor knew what had happened. Since the stranger did not have the special electronic wrist amulet worn by all Swift employees, his presence had automatically shown up on the master radarscope. A security squad was coming to investigate.
As Chow released the man, he got to his feet
REPORT FROM INTERPOL 23
slowly. Then, without warning, he suddenly butted the cook square in the stomach. Chow was knocked sprawling!
Before Tom could counter the surprise attack, the man’s fist cracked against his cheekbone. Tom, though stunned, lashed out. More punches flew back and forth. Tom landed a stinging blow to his opponent’s midriff, then took a punishing one himself.
Suddenly Tom felt the stranger’s hand clawing at his pocket for the key to the gate. With all his wiry strength, Tom locked his arms around the man and wrestled him to the ground.
The stranger fought like a tiger. But a second later a jeep screeched to a stop. Three security guards, led by stocky Phil Radnor, leaped out. Within moments they had the man subdued.
Tom quickly briefed the security men on what had happened.
“All right, mister, start talking!” snapped Radnor, head security police officer.
The man’s only reply was a scowl of rage.
“Okay, take him away till he cools off,” Tom ordered.