''We can take out four and still have our command units and a few defenders left over for when the dust cloud arrives.''
''Do it, Nelly, and call in your security nanos here. Don't leave any behind. They may come in handy.''
Jack looked at his wrist unit. ''Five minutes?''
''Probably sooner. Sandfire reacts fast,'' Kris said.
Abby joined them; twelve trunks rolled after her.
''Do we need those?'' Jack growled.
''If we lose them, I won't weep, but why abandon what we don't have to?'' Abby said with simple logic.
A minute crawled by. Kris settled into her chair. The others found seats of their own. The next minute took longer. Kris was committed. Somewhere in this station an alarm was blinking or clanging, screaming that a major message stream had been shot into the yard from Kris's suite. There was no benefit to second thoughts. Either she or Sandfire would get what they wanted tonight. No political compromise, no splitting the difference. That was why Kris chose the Navy over Father and his politics. Then, the clarity of alive or dead seemed better than settling for half a loaf. Half of what you wanted.
Maybe Father had a point.
If I get out of here, I'll have a sit-down talk with the man, Kris promised herself.
''Kris, there is major traffic on the security net.''
Kris rose to her feet. ''Jack, please invite in our guards.''
Jack quickly stepped off the distance to the door, then paused. ''It might be better if we really had a fire,'' he said.
''Right,'' Kris said. ''Abby, get those crates into Jack's room.'' While the maid did, Kris took the four steps to her door and pulled a cylinder from her pocket. One red band. Big boom. Take this, you screenwriter. ''Fire in the hole,'' she called, tossed it at her bathtub, and ducked back against the wall.
Three very noticeable seconds later, the bathroom exploded.
Jack waited a further second, then yanked open the door. Across the hall, two men were propped back in chairs, one snoring. Jack yelled ''Fire!'' and both came awake with a start. One fell out of his chair sideways; the other landed on his feet. The Sergeant appeared in the door, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He raced past Jack, followed by three others. Kris pointed them at the bathroom as alarms began pulsating in the room and the hall, drowning out even Kris's bellow of ''Fire! In there!''
They charged into her bedroom, then came to a halt, gaping at the wreckage… and maybe realizing they had nothing to fight the fire. Kris waved Tom forward, automatic in hand. ''Nonlethal,'' she whispered in his ear between bleats of the alarm.
Tom didn't change his ammunition selection. He shot; four grays crumpled. Kris examined the bath. The bomb had shattered the tub. Spray from the faucets was putting out most of what had caught fire. ''Leave them,'' she ordered.
Penny and Tom took the lead for the door. Abby was already halfway down the hall, trunks rolling along behind her. As she punched for an elevator, one opened.
Trouble in spandex.
Eight of Sandfire's girls stood in red, form-fitting body suits. Utility belts showed wicked looking bulges. Most held machine pistols at the ready; one had only a long black staff. Another held a crossbow slung across her arm.
For a startled moment, the two groups stared at each other. As weapons came up, the adjacent elevator door opened for Abby. She led her boxes in as if she knew nothing of what was about to happen. However, the maid had not given Kris all her small and impressive packages. As Abby crossed the threshold of the elevator, she casually tossed a small cylinder into the next car.
It gave a loud pop, knocking the red beauties off their combat rhythm for a fraction of a second, and gave Kris's crew time to grab their weapons and dive for the floor.
Suddenly, the elevator was filled with swirling smoke lit by blinding flashes of light. If eyes weren't dazzled, ears were shattered by a high-pitched screech that warbled as it went up and down the scale.
Behind Kris, Penny's automatic pistol rattled from the doorway, hardly noticeable among the racket. Its slugs gouged plastic and plaster from the elevator wall where rounds missed the car and its load. Jack produced a machine pistol and emptied the magazine. Kris felt a moment's compassion for the reds until a slug ripped plaster from the wall beside her.
Kris wasn't the only one wearing body armor.
She spun on her belly and snaked herself down the hall toward an exit light just as a gray figure emerged from the elevator's smoke at a low crouch, weapon on full automatic. A stream of rounds shot over Kris's head before the woman spun and fell back into the smoke. Six hits on her body only knocked her back. The one that exploded her face killed her.
Kris reached up to unlatch the stairwell door, then pushed it open by rolling through it. Now with her pistol out, she worked herself up to her knees, took aim, and sent single rounds at anything in the smoke that looked like a face or bare flesh.
She didn't have many good shots, but she fired some of her limited ammunition every few seconds to encourage heads to stay down.
Weapons in both hands, Tom wiggled his way backwards to the stairwell and joined Kris. ''Those red outfits turn gray in the smoke. Anybody notice an explosion in the yard?'' he said as he took station above Kris and sent a stream of slugs down the hall.
''The red outfits are also bulletproof. Nelly, anything?''
''Three of the task units reported just before they self-destructed,'' the computer reported. ''There are alarms on all levels of the station and verbal instructions to evacuate as quickly as possible. I assume the same is going on in the yard.''
''Good assumption. Tommy, me boy, the show is on.''
''And did I ever doubt it for a second,'' he said, brogue showing. ''Now, how do we get the hell out of here?''
The smoke hung in the elevator. Normally, there should have been a draft going into the stairwell. Not today. ''Somebody's closed down the airflow.''
''Only way to fight a fire,'' the spacer pointed out.
Penny was now on her belly, snaking her way toward Kris. Jack kept up his fire even as he began a backward crawl. Someone in gray edged out of the elevator, but their face turned into a messy pulp, and motion stopped.
Fire was slow and sporadic as Penny backed into the exit door. Tom kept shooting, sending rounds into the smoke from on high. Encouraged, most fire from the elevator was equally high.
Jack rolled himself into the stairwell just as something flew by Kris's head to explode at the far end of the hall. The back blast flashed toward Kris as she slammed the door shut.
''What was that?'' Tom asked breathlessly.
''I don't think that crossbow is for friendly games of darts,'' Kris said as she opened the door a crack. Two gray figures came through the smoke at a crouch, machine pistols at the ready. ''I'll take the one on the right.''
''I got the left one,'' Tom said.
''On three. One, two, three,'' Kris said and squeezed off a burst directly at her target's face. She collapsed, to be covered by Tom's target. There was no more movement in the smoke.
Kris wasn't waiting for any, either. ''Let's get upstairs.''
''That takes us toward maintenance, '' Tom pointed out.
''Which is where they won't be expecting us,'' Kris said as she hiked up the first of a long flight of stairs, heels echoing on steel. Jack was right behind her, Penny and Tom farther back.
''Nelly, tell me what's happening.''
''The station is being evacuated. Yard, too, from the level of power to the elevators. The security net is going wild.''
''Any traffic near us?''
''No, Kris, but I did not get any signal traffic off the group in the elevator. Totally quiet.''
''A different net would be my guess,'' Jack offered. ''Look for something anywhere on the frequency band. Even something in the civilian net that isn't used here. These folks aren't going to be bothered by a minor thing like frequency allocation.''