Gadgets returned to the woman. "Go to the door," he said. "Tell them not to shoot. Then go out and tell the police to expect more workers soon.'' She nodded and went.

Gadgets went back to the hall and let his eyes adjust to the faint light of the goggles before moving on. By that time the first escapees from the top floor began to appear. It took only a few seconds to start the chain going out of the building. Then Gadgets began slowly moving against the flow of refugees toward the top floor.

A voice suddenly rang out from half a floor up. "They're on the stairs below us. Spray the stairs."

Gadgets shoved the last two stragglers behind him. Then he pointed the Uzi upward and waited to locate the muzzle-flashes. But before the terror goons could open fire, two concussion grenades dropped from above, scattering them along the steps. Then Lyons closed in from the top and Gadgets from the bottom.

"I think that takes care of things," Gadgets called up the stairs before coming into line with Lyons's Uzi.

Gadgets was ambushed as he emerged from the building and stood blinking in the bright light. Arms and legs wrapped around him and a big kiss was planted on his mouth while long red hair whipped around his head.

"You're fabulous," the redhead he had led out of the building said in a throaty voice. "What can I ever do to repay you?"

"You got a car?"

"Yes."

"How about a ride to the airport for myself and my friends."

The redhead turned to a man in a gray suit who was standing a discreet five feet away.

"Have my car brought around, please."

"Right away, Miss Anderson."

"Did I hear, Miss Anderson?" Pol asked. "Are you related to the founder of this company?"

"I'm the founder," she replied with a grin.

Officer Gallic came up. "One of you called Ironman?"

Lyons nodded.

"Got a call patched through for you from California. You can get it in the cruiser."

It was Brognola.

"Wrapped things up here," the Fed said. "Houston and Seattle are taken care of. How did business go there?"

"A couple of casualties, but better than expected. Who got Jishin?"

"Didn't you?"

"No sign of her. Who's at Elwood Electronics?"

Brognola's voice sounded worried, even through the static. "Only Ti and Deborah."

"Out." Lyons shouted and jumped from the car.

He turned to Inez Gallic. "Run interference to the airport for us."

Able Team scrambled into the waiting Chrysler and took off after the police cruiser.

19

July 14, 1600 hours, Smyrna, Georgia

This time Jishin did not risk tipping anyone off to the raid by hijacking transportation from the airport. She hired two buses to move both the experienced foreign terrorists and the American terrorists-in-training from the airport to Elwood Electronic Industries Inc.

The buses pulled up to the plant. Two of the least certain of the trainees were left with the drivers. Their orders were to keep the drivers on the spot and out of the way. The other sixty-one terrorists divided into three groups to enter by the plant's three doors.

Jishin went with the group that used the front entrance. There was no one in the reception area. Two lights glowed on the switchboard, showing lines in use. The receptionist's typewriter was on and humming.

Beyond the reception area was the main office bull pen. The coffee was hot. Typewriters and copiers were on. A cigarette burned itself out in an ashtray.

"Creepy," said one of the recruits.

The others looked around and under desks, trying to ignore the remark.

"You three start on those files," Jishin ordered. "You four go back and cover the entry. You two see that the other teams have left their entries guarded as well. The rest of you find out where everyone's gone."

The terrorists scattered to obey orders.

Each of the three detailed to sort through files pulled open the top drawer of one of the upright cabinets. Each began scanning for anything pertaining to original research. The one in the middle found nothing but invoices in the top drawer. She slammed it shut and yanked open the second drawer. The three filing cabinets blew up, filling the room with sharp pieces of flying metal. Three terrorists died, four others experienced the pain of being severely wounded.

Jishin was not hit. She was already on her way to the computer room to see how things were going there. She heard the explosion and the screams but kept going. Someone would catch up with the details all too soon.

She found the terrorists wandering around the computer room. They looked lost.

"What's going on here?" Jishin demanded.

"Jobs are running. The computers are being worked but no one's here," someone reported in a puzzled voice.

"So what!" Jishin screamed. "Just get on with it."

They hastily moved in on the computer keyboards and started deciphering entry codes and working at a way to acquire the classified data.

Jishin stomped out in disgust, through the security and noise barriers, to the back of the building to discover what happened to the third part of the invading force. There was a sharp cracksomewhere in a remote part of the building.

Jishin found the final third of her army frantically trying to dig their fellow workers out from under a heavy load of transformer cores and shelving.

"What do you think you're doing?" she barked.

The terrorists stopped and looked up.

"Tanna and Brian hit a trip wire and the shelves fell in on them."

Jishin stopped and picked up a discarded M-16. She jacked a shell into the chamber and fired two short bursts, killing the two imprisoned terrorists.

"That's what happens to careless types. Now, move it, before I lose patience. Find out what happened to the people who were working here."

Two messengers finally caught up with their leader.

"What do you two want?" she snapped at them.

"The file cabinets in the general office exploded," the first reported. "We have three dead and four wounded."

"The tape drive in the computer room also blew up," the other reported. "We have two more seriously wounded."

Before Jishin could react, someone yelled. "Gas!"

Jishin recognized the harsh, burning sensation of strong ammonia in her nostrils.

"Clear the area," she barked.

In their haste to make it to the front of the building, the terrorists began to push and shove. That was when the lights went out.

There was still plenty of light streaming in the windows, but the power failure was the last straw for the already terrified killers. Their anger turned on each other. Soon fists were flying, the terrorists urgently wanting to quit the ammonia-filled stockrooms.

Jishin was still holding the M-16. She fired it into the air.

When she had sufficient attention, she spoke. "The next person I see shoving, gets shot."

The evacuation was immediately more orderly, but Jishin was forced to tie up her time standing in the ammonia-filled room, eyes streaming water, fighting not to cough, while her troops scrambled out the single door into the other parts of the building.

The terrorists in the general office area quickly patched up their wounded, leaving the dead where they lay. There was a brief argument about which eight would carry the wounded to a bus and which four would stay behind. It was settled that all would head for the buses, three carrying each wounded.

The buses were not there.

The two terrorists left to keep an eye on the bus drivers had remained behind. Each was carefully stretched out on the parking lot, his neck broken and his weapon missing.

It was too much for three of the terrorists-in-training. They dropped their wounded comrade and sprinted away from the menacing, silent building that seemed to be functioning, but in which no one could be found. They did not make it. One of the confiscated M-16s opened up, cutting them down with three short bursts.