Alcorn felt it himself then, the indefinable certainty of approach. A turbo-copter, then another, slanting down toward his hideaway, two speeding machines filled with grimly intent men—Jaffers' agents.
The 'copters landed about a hundred yards away from the cabin. There was a dragging silence and then a booming, amplified voice.
"Alcorn, come out!"
He stood fast, feeling above their tension the swift progress of Janice Wynn through the darkness toward them. She was close to the nearer machine when he felt a sudden veering of her attention, followed the direction of her probing, and sensed another 'copter angling down out of the night.
Her mental order was as urgent as a shout: Let no one in. No one!
She moved on. The pilot of the third 'copter was only beginning to assume identity to Alcorn's sharpened senses when Janice Wynn drew within effective reach of the nearer grounded machine.
The amplified voice was calling again: "Come out, Alcorn, or we'll have to—"
It broke off short in a scream. There was a flurry of shots, a white flash in the darkness and a concussion that shook the cabin.
He felt Janice turn and run purposefully through the darkness toward the second 'copter.
The third machine was dropping in for landing when he identified its pilot.