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"The fact the lasers haven't been fired probably means the blackcollars are in control," someone murmured from the side.
"I'd figured that out, thank you," O'Dae growled. When you don't need a senior officer, he thought bitterly, they're always right there on top of you. Colonel Poirot was supposed to be on his way, but until he got here O'Dae was in charge of this mess, and he knew full well he was out of his depth.
"Major! Got something now," the man at the monitor a
O'Dae felt a flood of relief. "Oh, they are, are they?" he said, and someone else snickered. The steel protecting those elevator shafts was specially reinforced against just this trick; the prisoners could fire all night and most of the next day without breaking through.
Which meant that O'Dae was off the hook. However long it took Poirot to get here, he could now afford to simply sit back and wait until then. The blackcollars weren't going anywhere—
"Major!"
O'Dae turned and looked over the crowd to the man at the audio comm panel. "Yes, what is it?"
"Explosion outside the Central Municipal Building, sir—the night guards there say the door's been blown."
"What?" O'Dae shoved through the others to the panel, stomach churning with fresh tension. The Central Muni held a lot of records, more than a few of them top-classified. Not to mention several pieces of equipment that were well-nigh irreplaceable. "Anyone trying to get in?"
"Not yet—at least they don't think so," the other said, shaking his head. "But they want some backup, fast."
"No kidding. Captain! Get a double squad over there, on the slider."
"Yes, sir." The officer left the situation room at a dead run.
O'Dae took a ragged breath, but he'd barely let it out before the man beside him swore. "Damn it.
Major—another blast, this one near the spotter hangar."
O'Dae stared, hardly believing it. "What the hell—that was near the hangar, Corporal? Not in?"
"Report says near, sir. But it could be just a diversion."
The major grimaced as that thought penetrated the tension surrounding his mind and then split, amoeba-style, into two equally nasty possibilities. A diversion as prelude to an attack on Athena's air power? Or a diversion designed to empty the Security building itself of troops? It could be either...
and the real hell of it was that it didn't matter. He had to send reinforcements to those other buildings, just in case. Which meant he could likely have a skeleton crew available here if the blackcollars tired of their attack on the elevators and tried to simply fight their way out.
And there was only one way he could think of to prevent that. If the blackcollars were indeed relying on allies skulking around Athena to set up their escape for them, the last thing he could afford was to allow them control of the timetable. "Lieutenant Baker, what's the situation with the elevator to five?" he called to the man at the detention monitors.
"Uh... we've got the override set up, Major," the other reported. "The blackcollars can't use it to get down."
"I was thinking more of our using it to get up," O'Dae growled. "Are the spotters up and in place?"
"One hovering in view of each side of the building. They can't see much, though—they're keeping their distance."
Cowards. Still, as long as they prevented anyone from sliding out a window on a rope, it didn't much matter how far back they were. "Still no response from the gas flood system, I take it?"
"No, sir. I think they must have disabled it at the same time they took out the cameras."
O'Dae grimaced. He'd been holding out hope that someone had just left a switch turned off in the control room or something. And without the floor's remote defenses to rely on, there was only one way to preempt any escape attempt. "Order the commando squad to get ready," he told the other. "I'll lead the first wave in myself."
The man's lip twitched, but he nodded. "Yes, sir. Do you want the medics along with them?"
"No—stretcher teams will be called up when a given area's clear, but the medics themselves will wait in the infirmary. We're going to have a lot of casualties to take care of, and I don't want to risk any of the medics too close to the fighting."
"Yes, sir." The other paused, listening. "All right, Major; the squad's ready anytime. Armed, armored, and they've been shown pictures of all the blackcollars up there. Including Mordecai and Pittman."
"Good." O'Dae sure as hell didn't want one or more of the blackcollars do
—
The elevator slowed, came to a stop. "Get ready," O'Dae murmured, his voice sounding oddly hollow as it echoed inside his armored faceplate. The door slid open, and he threw himself out of the car to land in kneeling position three meters down the hallway, laser rifle raised and ready.
Anticlimax. No laser beams lanced out, no one hurled any of those damned throwing stars at them, no one even looked out of any of the rooms or cross corridors to see what was happening. In fact, if it hadn't been for the bodies scattered down the hallway, it would have been easy to believe nothing at all had happened here.
The motionless, u
"Negative, sir," the reply came in his ear. "Lasers have stopped firing and have been moved... looks like to the southeastern corner of the floor."
The safe room, of course. O'Dae's lip twisted into a grim smile. Yes, the blackcollars would have the brains to hole up there when their timetable was disrupted—nowhere else on five could hold out against laser fire for long.
Which meant O'Dae's hunch had been correct—they were expecting to be rescued. "Double the guard on the building's entrances," he ordered into his mike. "An assault could come at any time."
"Yes, sir. Is it clear enough to send litter teams up there?"
O'Dae sca
"Acknowledged."
Though at the moment it was still an open question as to whether or not the casualties were beyond the medics' help. "Hanson, Peters—check this group for survivors," O'Dae ordered, gesturing around them. "Tag anyone who's alive for the stretchers. The rest of you'll come with me down the hall and make sure they haven't left a rear guard to ambush us."
Carefully, he set off, his men flanking him. The first two rooms they checked were empty, the third had two bodies lying in it... and the fourth had a survivor.
He was just getting gingerly to his knees, hands cradling his head, as they entered. "Who—? Oh, God, you're here," he said hoarsely.
O'Dae stepped forward and caught the man's arm as he started to weave again, helped him into a sitting position. "How do you feel?" he asked, eyes darting briefly to the sloppily tied bandage covering the back and side of the other's head and the blood that was still dribbling out from beneath it.
"Lousy," the other groaned. "Dizzy. I got the bleeding stopped... must have fainted again. Can I sit down?"
O'Dae started to tell him he was sitting, thought better of it. "Why don't you lie down instead?" he suggested. "The stretchers'll be here in a minute to take you downstairs."
"Okay," the other sighed. Already he was begi