"What if we can't accomplish anything when we get on board?"
"Then we're not the hellraisers we think we are.... Of course S.P. can't lick 'em. It'll have to find a way of getting the drop on 'em.... Don't worry. It will only make you lose the rest of your hair."
Mike accompanied them on the supply plane which bore them toward the Pole. He was in a bad mood. "I shouldn't ought have done it," he groaned. "If they's been a leak.... If Hans gets suspicious about you two, we'll be burned down. Only thing in our favor is that they're desperately short of men up there."
The ship's ports were blacked out as she approached her destination. They had no chance to determine the route. Finally they knew that they had landed on water, but when they emerged that they were in a pressurized hangar which had submerged into a huge chamber drilled in solid rock.
"Shots?" barked Hans, surveying the prospective recruits when Mike ushered them into the scientist's severely plain office.
"No." The commandant squirmed. "They're Incors, but they'd sell their souls to make a stake."
"Incors! Always Incors!" The unhealed radium burn which covered the whole side of the huge man's face flamed an angry red. "I need some people up here that I can half-way trust. All these Incors you've been sending me are dangerous. Already I've smashed two of their plans to steal or smash the ship. What's the matter with you Shots? Yellow?"
"Now look here, Hans...."
"Yellow!" Hans whirled from Mike and glared at Frank.