Neutron Force. Don Pendleton

closely followed by Encizo.

      Clearing the landing zone, the men flipped on their night-vision goggles and scanned for any possible dangers as Manning and James arrived. The Black Hawk promptly began to move away, the sound of the rotors lost in the storm.

      Spreading out, the men swept along the parking lot, staying low to the pavement. There were no Hummers in sight, only a vague sensation of a fence to their left and a dark outline of something looming large in front of them like the side of a cliff.

      “EM and thermal are clear,” Encizo reported.

      “Good. Okay, keep it tight, people,” McCarter whispered. “Gary, you’re on cover.”

      “Roger,” Manning replied, stopping where he was and bringing up the long barrel of the Barrett.

      The laboratory slowly came into view. A door to the left was situated under a small awning, while a set of large doors were to the right with concrete aprons jutting for truck deliveries. There was no light or movement.

      Pausing in the rain just outside the clear area below the awning, McCarter studied the entrance. A drain in the pavement gurgled as the water from the parking lot trickled into it. The name of the project had been scraped off the door, the Plexiglas windows frosted white. There was no sign of a keyhole, but there was a palm lock on the jamb.

      Warily, McCarter placed a hand on the sensor pad. It gave an angry buzz, nothing more.

      “Stony Base, this is Firebird,” McCarter said into his throat mike. “We need a knock-knock.”

      “On it,” Aaron Kurtzman replied through a crackle of static.

      “T.J., Cal, check for another way inside,” McCarter ordered.

      “On it,” Hawkins replied.

      Leveling his dripping MP-5, James went in the other direction and disappeared around the corner of the huge building.

      The rest of the team waited patiently. A few minutes later the others returned.

      “Found a loading dock, but the steel doors have been welded shut,” Hawkins said gruffly.

      “Same with the back door,” James added. “Somebody really doesn’t want people inside this building.”

      “What about the roof?” Encizo asked, glancing upward.

      James snorted. “The access ladder is gone. Only the bolt holes remain.”

      “Firebird One to Stony Base, anything yet?” McCarter asked, shifting his grip on the machine gun. Blowing their way inside was looking more and more likely.

      “Not yet,” Kurtzman answered from halfway around the world. “Whoever built the firewalls around these circuits really knew what they were doing.”

      Pulling out a wad of C-4 plastique, McCarter admitted he had half expected something like that. Walking under the awning, the big man pointed at the door frame. “Okay, I want a charge there and there,” he directed. “Be sure to—”