the battered wall of
mountains, heading toward the twisted wrecks that had been the ring of
defense guns. Toward the entrance tunnel.

An occasional cannon fired feebly at them. The cars came grimly on.
Now, in the hollows of the hills, Sherikov's troops were hurrying to
the surface to meet the attack. The first car reached the shadow of
the mountains....

A deafening hail of fire burst loose. Small robot guns appeared
everywhere, needle barrels emerging from behind hidden screens, trees
and shrubs, rocks, stones. The police cars were caught in a withering
cross-fire, trapped at the base of the hills.

Down the slopes Sherikov's guards raced, toward the stalled cars.
Clouds of heat rose up and boiled across the plain as the cars fired
up at the running men. A robot gun dropped like a slug onto the plain
and screamed toward the cars, firing as it came.

Dixon twisted nervously. Only a few minutes. Any time, now. He shaded
his eyes and peered up at the sky. No sign of them yet. He wondered
about Reinhart. No signal had come up from below. Clearly, Reinhart
had run into trouble. No doubt there was desperate fighting going on
in the maze of underground tunnels, the intricate web of passages that
honeycombed the earth below the mountains.

In the air, Sherikov's few defense ships were taking on the police
raiders. Outnumbered, the defense ships darted rapidly, wildly,
putting up a futile fight.

Sherikov's guards streamed out onto the plain. Crouching and running,
they advanced toward the stalled cars. The police airships screeched
down at them, guns thundering.

Dixon held his breath. When the missiles arrived--

The first missile struck. A section of the mountain vanished, turned
to smoke and foaming gasses. The wave of heat slapped Dixon across the
face, spinning him around. Quickly he re-entered his ship and took
off, shooting rapidly away from the scene. He glanced back. A second
and third missile had arrived. Great gaping pits yawned among the
mountains, vast sections missing like broken teeth. Now the missiles
could penetrate to the underground laboratories below.

On the ground, the surface cars halted beyond the danger area, waiting
for the missile attack to finish. When the eighth missile had struck,
the cars again moved forward. No more missiles fell.

Dixon swung his ship around, heading back toward the scene. The
laboratory was exposed. The top sections of it had been ripped open.
The laboratory la