The commandant now looked like a Red who had just swallowed the whole solar system. "Wouldn't I?" he answered. The wolf grin on his face had spread from ear to ear.
"Get the hell out of my sight!" Holder shouted.
The last he saw of the commandant as the latter went away was the wolfish grin. There was a startled expression on the grin as the man vanished like something had happened that was not on schedule.
Holder walked quietly out of the room and down the corridor. Behind him, he heard an alarm bell go off. The pound of heavy boots answering the alarm bell followed. He moved faster. A shout to halt followed. He dodged around a corner in the corridor and began to run.
He knew now that he would be followed to the ends of the earth. For him, and those dear to him, there was no hiding place. His conversation with the commandant had been monitored. Now that the commandant was gone, the next in command automatically stepped into his shoes. He knew what he was going to do, what he had to do. Perhaps—the vague hope was in his mind—if he could disintegrate bodies, he could also re-integrate them. He did not know if he could do this and there was no time to find out. There was only time to act, and hope.
Feet pounded behind him along the corridor. On the roof of the building, a siren began to wail. All security forces were being called out.
He slipped from the building, dodged around a concrete statue, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him toward the living quarters provided here. This was a three-story concrete structure. As he slid into the entrance of this building, whistles were shrilling behind him and armored car motors were beginning to roar. The air was still vibrating with the shrill screaming of the alarm siren. A guard had sighted him and was in hot chase behind.
With the feet of the guard clumping behind him, John Holder ran down the third floor hall toward his apartment. A shot rang out behind him and the bullet chipped plaster from the wall at the end of the corridor. A hoarse shout to halt sounded. He snatched open the door and was inside. His wife, her face a question mark, came toward him. Panting, he leaned against the wall. With one hand, he shot the latch on the door.
"I thought I heard a shot," Marie said.