Cool air breathed across my neck. I don't know how I knew what had happened but I knew. As I turned, my eyes confirmed my hunch. The door was open. Three men were coming through it. Long Jaw was in the lead.
I hit with all my strength. The protruding jaw was within range. My fist landed full on the button with a thud that I felt all the way through my body. Never in my life had I hit a man that I enjoyed hitting as much. Long Jaw went over backwards.
I found myself looking at guns in the hands of the two men who were following him. "Get your hands up!" the first one said. Since I had no choice, I obeyed. As my hands went up, the second man stepped forward and slugged me in the pit of the stomach. As I doubled up from the pain, he hit me in the jaw.
At that moment, I would cheerfully have destroyed both of them with my bare hands. All I could do was glare at them. As I fell back against the wall, I saw that Dr. Crane was looking at them. Judging from the expression on his face, I think he would gladly have used his best surgical knives to cut their hearts out, if he had had the chance. He started to move. A gun swung to cover him. "Just stand pat, doc," he was advised.
Tom, at the foot of Ann's bed, did not even look around. His attention was completely engrossed in his gadget.
"You can't get away with this," I said. "This man is working on a project that is vital to national defense. The FBI will hound you to Siberia." I was bluffing and I knew it. So did they.
Long Jaw got slowly to his feet. "Is that so?" he said. He moved toward Tom. "Come on. We want you—and your machine."
For the first time, Tom looked up. "I'll come with you in just a few minutes," he said, nodding toward Ann. "Her life is not quite out of danger yet."
"To hell with that," a new voice spoke from the doorway. "Get the machine—and the inventor."