"The Zeburzacs are one of the old families, but he sold out to McHague."
"Well, what do we do now? Just stand here? It looks like everybody's leaving."
"We might as well just wait," Crystal said hopelessly. "It won't do us any good to run out into the hills. Zeburzac and his men will follow."
"We could slow them down some by swinging a couple of those ships around so their rocket exhausts sweep the entrance to the cavern," Brian suggested doubtfully. She looked at him steadily.
"You sound like the only good rebel left. We can try it, anyway."
They ran two ships out into the middle of the cavern, gunned them around and jockeyed them into position—not a moment too soon.
Half a dozen police showed in brief silhouette as they slipped cautiously into the cavern, guns ready, expecting resistance. They met a dead silence. A score or more followed them without any attempt at concealment. Then Brian and Crystal cut loose with the drives of the two ships.
Startled screams of agony burst from the crowded group of police as they were caught in the annihilating cross fire of roaring flame. They crisped and twisted, cooked to scorched horrors before they fell. A burst of thick, greasy smoke rushed out of the cavern. Two of the police, their clothes and flesh scorched and flaming, plunged as shrieking, living torches down the mountainside.
Crystal was white and shaking, her face set in a mask of horror, as she climbed blindly from her ship.