Engels was thrown forward, his chin meeting Case's fist on its way upward. There was the crack of a neck breaking. Case had put all his strength into that punch.
Burnine kicked at a guard's head, dropped down to one knee and came up with a gun. The other guards didn't have a chance. Burnine peppered them with pellets that ate away flesh wherever they hit.
"Let's go," Case snapped. "You take the lead. And don't stop to argue if anyone gets in our way."
Then they were racing down the long corridor toward a heavy door at the end. A pair of guards looked up and saw them coming and died before their hands could reach their guns. Case paused to pick up a heavy weapon that leaned against a wall.
Another guard stuck his head out of a side room and popped it back in. Within a second, warning whistles pierced the air. But over the whistles Case could still hear a hum.
"Not much time," Burnine panted. He was completely winded.
A stairway made a dark opening and they plunged downward through it. The sound of motors pounded up toward them. They were in darkness for long minutes. And then the darkness gave way to light and they were racing into a vast chamber filled with scurrying men.
Case brought up the heavy gun he was carrying, triggered it and was gratified by the streak of flame that issued from the muzzle. But other guns were popping steadily. Behind Case, a man went down.
There was a sharpshooter behind a bank of instruments, and Case took steady aim. The sharpshooter dropped. Meanwhile, Burnine and the other two had not been idle. They had both flanks cleared.
"This is it," Burnine gasped. "Good thing Engels liked to brag. That big panel is the converter."