He bent to the edge of the door and pressed the stud of the lighter. Its small beam began to chew into the steel sheeting around the lock. With agonizing slowness the beam cut into the steel until it reached a depth beyond which it would not penetrate. Pell released the stud and tinkered with the lighter with the thin edge of a coin.
Then he directed it again at the door. Its seemingly innocuous blue flame was brighter and longer. It cut into the steel with renewed vigor.
Suddenly there was a small snap and the door slid slowly back into the wall. Pell crouched, ready to spring upon the guard. But there was none. The corridor was empty and silent as a tomb. Pell glanced at his watch and the need for haste was pressed more firmly than ever upon him. An hour gone by already!
He crept cautiously into the corridor with Heintz on his heels. It was dim and damp; the moisture seemed to congeal on his brow like sweat. With Heintz dogging his footsteps like some huge, bloated shadow, Pell approached the main corridor. It, too, was deserted.
He turned to Heintz and asked in a low voice, "Where do you think they keep the atomic weapons?"
Heintz shrugged and grunted, "Probably on some higher level—some place they could reach in a hurry from the tower. Pell, if we could grab one of those blasters...." He left the thought unfinished, but Pell knew what he was thinking.
They reached the main corridor. Cautiously Pell looked up and down its long, deserted length. The lines about his mouth were tense and hard. If they should be caught—he motioned for Heintz to follow.
They had not gone more than fifty feet on the main corridor toward the automatic elevators when one of them suddenly opened and out stepped a uniformed DIC mercenary!
Pell sighed under his breath and muttered to Heintz, "Pay no attention to him—just keep walking as casually as you can. When we reach him, we'll jump him and take his guns."
There was a single affirmative grunt from his rear. Pell watched the soldier tensely while the latter regarded them with a blank and incurious stare as he approached them. Suddenly a flash of suspicion crossed the mercenary's eyes and he slowed his pace uncertainly. Pell was no more than twenty feet from him when he charged, Heintz lumbering at his heels.