there was nothing but darkness.

A long time passed, perhaps ten seconds.

Then Lynch's voice was back. "Sergeant McNulty says they're on the top
floor, Malone," he said. "Can't tell how many for sure. But they're
talking and moving around."

"It's a shame these things won't pick up the actual words at a
distance," Malone said.

"Just a general feeling of noise is all we get," Lynch said. "But it
does some good."

"Sure," Malone said. "Now listen carefully. Boyd and I are going in.
Alone."

Lynch's voice whispered, "Right."

"If those mikes pick up any unusual ruckus--any sharp increase in the
noise level--come running," Malone said. "Otherwise, just sit still
and wait for my signal. Got that?"

"Check," Lynch said.

Malone pocketed the radiophone. "Okay, Tom," he whispered. "This is
it."

"Right," Boyd muttered. "Let's move in."

"Wait a minute," Malone said. He took his goggles and brought them
down over his eyes, adjusting the helmet on his head. Boyd did the
same. Malone flicked on the infrared flashlight he held in his hand.

"Okay?" he whispered. "Check," Boyd said.

Thanks to the goggles, both of them could see the normally invisible
beams of the infrared flashlight. They'd equipped themselves to move
in darkness without betraying themselves, and they'd be able to see
where a person without equipment would be blind.

Malone stayed well within the shadows as he moved silently around to
the alley behind the warehouse, and then to a narrow passageway that
led to the building next door. Boyd followed a few feet behind him
along the carefully planned route.

Malone unlocked the small door that led into the ground floor of the
building adjoining. As he did so, he heard a sound behind him and
called, "Tom?"

"Hey, Malone," Boyd whispered. "It's--"

Before there was any outcry, Malone rushed back. Boyd was struggling
with a figure in the dimness. Malone grabbed the figure and clamped
his hand over its mouth. It bit him. He swore in a low voice, and
clamped the hand over the mouth again.

It hadn't taken him more than half a second to realize what, whoever
it was who struggled in his arms, it wasn't a boy.

"Shut up!" Malone hissed in her ear. "I won't hurt you."

The struggle stopped immediately. Malone gently eased his hand off the
girl's mouth. She turned and looked at him.

"Kenneth Malone," she said, "you look like a man from Mars."

"Dorothea!" Malone gasped. "What are you doing here? L