“Any fuses?” Doc asked, closing a revolver and tucking it into his belt His frock coat bulged with ammo boxes, and another revolver.
J.B. nudged a roll of what resembled gray string on the floor. “Sure, lots. Why?”
“Diversion. Just in case.”
“Good idea,” Ryan said, filling his pockets with live rounds. “J.B., give us…say, twenty minutes.”
Cutting off a length of the fuse, J.B. held it to the light bulb until it caught He counted as it sizzled into ash.
“Three seconds for a foot,” he said, impressed. “Smooth burn.”
“Too fast,” Jak said, searching his clothes for somewhere to hide another blade.
“Better drape it over the gun racks for maximum length,” Krysty suggested.
Agreeing, J.B. started to wrap the fuse around his arm to measure the length, but soon ran out. “We have ten minutes,” he said, tucking the end into a barrel of black powder. “Then it’s boom.”
Ryan slung a Winchester rifle over a shoulder.
“Ready?” he asked, a big-bore Browning resting in a combat grip. “J.B., light her up.”
The Armorer pressed the end of the fuse against the light bulb and it caught immediately. Dropping the gray twine on the floor, he made sure it didn’t loop over itself and cut their time short. Ten minutes was barely enough to get away as it was.
Jak eased open the door, and Doc checked outside. When he announced it was clear, they regrouped in the hallway. J.B. locked the door.
Krysty then shoved in a knife blade and snapped it off at the hilt. “That’ll stop anybody from interfering with our surprise package.”
“Now what?” Dean asked, his two S&W .38 revolvers crossed at the wrists to steady his aim. The boy knew he was short on sleep and so was taking no chances on getting arm weary when he needed accuracy. “We looking for Leviathan?”
“There’s no way of knowing where she is,” Ryan said. “We’re just going to head out of here.”
Awkwardly, Mildred tried different grips on the parkerized Colt .38, the best of the bunch. To her sensitive hands, the gun was too barrel heavy, the action stiff, and the cracked tigerwood grip was very uncomfortable. The Colt was a single-action, not a double, but she had loaded in six rounds anyway. She didn’t think there was much danger of a misfire. It wouldn’t be long before the gun saw action.
“Which way?” she asked.
Shard gestured and took a step when a loud bang heralded the sharp cracking of a slug hitting the stone wall near them.
“Sec men!” Krysty cried, the longblaster in her grip booming in response. Down the corridor, a man toppled backward, a crimson stain on his chest.
More reports sounded, and the dull rattle of a .22 Thompson submachine gun, the small-caliber rounds impacting everywhere in a maelstrom of lead.
Ryan fired his rifle a fast five times. “The lock,” he yelled, blasting steadily.
Thumbing in rounds, J.B. shook his head. “No way.”
“When you have superior numbers and arms, attack,” Doc said in that singsong way of his that meant he was quoting somebody. Yet his hands never stopped in their task of reloading. “When outnumbered, retreat, and attack later.”
“When trapped, do the unexpected,” Ryan added. Standing, he triggered the rifle and took off down the corridor at a full run. “Charge!”
Chapter Thirteen
Wild shots rang out, and the two groups were upon each other.
Blasting one man in the belly, the discharge of his pistol setting his clothes on fire, Ryan kicked another in the groin and received a brutal jab in the ribs. He reeled, feeling something snap inside.
“Incoming!” Krysty shouted in warning. She fired her blaster twice, then found J.B. in her sights and lashed out with the weapon to smash in the nose of an attacker. They were too close for blasters now, and everybody pulled out knives.
As two of the sec men closed in, Jak lashed out with knives and blood sprayed from the impact.
Limply, the two dropped to the floor. Mildred shot a man in the knee and sternum. Dean sidestepped a saber jab then put his pistol into the man’s ear and fired, the slug’s exit taking a chunk of bone and gray matter with it. Doc elbowed a man in the throat, then ducked under a knife thrust. Bobbing and weaving, Jak knifed another.