Satisfied, Senov leaned against the wall, panting, and uttered a few low words. It brought an inrush of his followers. The long, dark passageway was filled with a host of men whose harsh breathing was the only sound that could be heard.
Senov led the way. His path was blocked by a heavy iron door. Standing in the darkness, the leader struck the barrier with a metal object. Two sharp raps — a pause then two raps more. The door opened, inward, like the first.
A uniformed soldier was standing in a dimly lighted room. In his hand he held a revolver. As the door was halfway open, he gave a short order. Some one inside pressed a switch. The outer passage gleamed with light.
THE Bolshevist soldier never recovered from the astonishment that he experienced. Before him, he saw a horde of fierce invaders. A hand rose upward, carrying an iron bar. With well-directed stroke it smashed the light that illuminated the corridor.
Simultaneously, the guarding soldier brought his revolver into play. He never pressed the trigger. Senov leaped upon him. He seized the hapless man by the throat, and hurled his struggling body against the wall.
A brute of iron, Senov seemed irresistible.
The attack was amazing in its swiftness. There were half a dozen soldiers in the room. All were standing with revolvers, as aids to the one who had answered the countersign at the door. As Senov’s band swarmed into the room, these warriors sprang into action.
Their defense was too late. Outguessed and outnumbered, they had no chance to offer firm resistance.
Their first scattered shots were effective, one of Senov’s men falling. Then, as bursts of flame shot from the open door, two soldiers fell.
The others, all but one, dived for the safety of a small room beyond. A door slammed shut. They had taken refuge in a bulletproof vault — safe but trapped.