"You're right, of course," Isaac agreed. "But to order them shot down if they...."
A second dull boom interrupted him as another bridge across Salt River was blown by Barren, the third assistant engineer.
A buzzer on Matt's walkie-talkie began to whir softly. He clicked it on. The voice of Sawyer, the fat biologist whom he had sent to fortify the highway bridge, sounded in his ear.
"Sawyer reporting. Two cars coming from the direction of Louisville."
"Scouts?" Matt asked.
"I think so."
"Are you dug in yet?"
"We have one machine gun set up and barbed wire strung across the bridge. We can hold them."
"Let them get on the bridge," said Matt. "Then shoot up the cars. See if you can't put them out of commission."
"Very well. They're coming onto the bridge now—slow." There was a silence. Then Matt heard Sawyer say, "Hold your fire." Again there was a silence that stretched on and on. Matt could feel his nerves tighten like violin strings. After an interminable period, Sawyer said, "Now!" Obviously, he was turned away from the mouthpiece because his voice was faint.