“Oh, Bob, the Patrol!” the girl screamed.
“Quiet! This is a zwilnik outfit, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say it is!” Ryder gasped in relief. “Thionite. . . .”
“Thionite! How could it be? How could they bring it in here?”
“They don’t. They’re growing broadleaf and making the stuff. That’s why they’re going to kill us.”
“Just a minute.” Cloud threw in another switch. “Lieutenant? Worse than I thought. Thionite! Get over here fast with everything you got. Armor and semi-portables. Blast down the Mayner Street door. Stairway to right, two floors down, corridor to left, half-way along left side. Room B-Twelve. Snap it up, but keep your eyes peeled!”
“But wait, Cloud!” the lieutenant protested. “Wait ’til we get there—you can’t do anything alone!”
“Can’t wait—got to get these kids out—evidence!” Cloud broke the circuit and, as rapidly as he could, one-handed, buckled on gun-belts. Graves would have to kill these two youngsters, if he possibly could.
“For God’s sake save Jackie, anyway!” Ryder prayed. He knew just how high the stakes were. “And watch out for gas, radiation, and traps—you must have sprung a dozen alarms already.”
“What kind of traps?” Cloud demanded.