rstacy.doomsdaywarrior-第38部分

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　Rock　stared　for　a　second　into　those　determined　green　eyes。　Then　he　said；　〃Okay；　see　if　you　can　hit　them　with　those　pop…shooters；　but　get　as　close　as　you　can　without　them　noticing　before　firing。〃
　Rona　and　McCaughlin　just　walked　across　the　empty　street　and　sauntered　toward　the　entrance　stairs。
　The　guards　were　facing　one　another；　their　mouths　moving。　Idle　chatter。　The　last　remarks　they　would　ever　make　in　this　world。
　They　turned　when　the　pair　of　Freefighters　were　a　quarter　of　the　way　up　the　stairs；　and　they　died　as　they　raised　their　weapons。　Burned　where　they　stood。　Blackened　and　smoking　human　charcoal；　they　fell　apart　as　they　fell。
　The　rest　of　the　Freefighters　ran　across　the　street；　hardly　containing　a　rousing　cheer。　One　of　the　guard's　guns　had　fallen；　heat…damaged；　it　sat　there　on　the　topmost　step。　Rock　picked　it　up。　Useless。　They　walked　down　the　corridor；　and　into　the　circular　throne　room。
　〃It's　empty；〃　Rona　exclaimed。
　〃Perhaps　they　are　all　asleep；〃　Danik　said。
　〃Stafford's　private　apartments　are　to　the　left；〃　Rockson　stated　in　a　low　voice。　〃In　any　case；　the　study　contains　the　safe。　The　place　Stafford　keeps　Factor　Q。〃
　Rock　ordered　the　rest　of　the　Freefighters　to　secure　the　building　while　he　plunged　into　Stafford's　quarters。
　Through　the　unlocked　door　and　down　the　short　corridor　he　ran；　gun　thrust　ahead　of　him。　Perhaps　the　real　Stafford　would　be　in　there　in　his　pts。　Rock　could　try　again　to　force　the　code　to　open　the　safe　from　Stafford。　The　real　Stafford。　Awaken　him　from　his　beauty　sleep　with　the　point　of　the　heat　gun　pressed　against　his　fat　face。
　Happily；　Rockson　came　upon　one　of　the　Freefighters'　weapons　…　a　baton　…　lying　on　the　floor　in　a　er。　He　wondered　if　a　soldier　had　pilfered　it；　played　with　it　a　while；　then　discarded　it。　He　probably　thought　it　just　a　heavy　metal　stick。　Unless　you　activated　the　baton　by　pressing　a　certain　area　of　the　instrument；　it　didn't　do　its　thing。
　Rock；　happy　for　any　slight　improvement　in　the　situation；　picked　it　up。　He　had　another　weapon　too　…　the　one　he'd　taped　to　his　body　just　before　they　entered　Eden。　The　butterfly　knife　tucked　on　the　inner　thigh　of　his　left　leg。　The　slender　blade；　folded　into　its　own　handle　hadn't　been　discovered　in　their　cursory　frisk　by　the　inhibited　guardsmen。
　
　
　CHAPTER　27
　
　A　steel　door　was　shutting；　a　foot…thick　blast…resistant　door　that　was　going　to　close　off　the　room　that　had　the　safe　in　it。　There　was　just　a　second　to　make　it　through。　Rockson　dived　between　the　sliding…together　masses　of　metal　death；　and　rolled　into　the　study。　The　twin　walls　of　crushing　steel　slammed　together　a　fraction　too　late　to　crush　his　feet。　He　had　made　it　in。
　It　was　utterly　dark；　and　he　had　no　light。　Window…less　buildings　had　that　problem。　He　somehow　thought　it　might　not　be　a　good　idea　to　feel　around　for　a　light　switch。　Especially　when　he　heard　the　muffled　whispers　somewhere　in　the　room。
　He　eased　forward　in　the　utter　darkness；　trying　to　sense　the　source　of　those　utterances。　Rock　snapped　open　his　balisong　knife。
　A　hissing　sound　and　a　red　glow　erupted　in　the　far　darkness。　Rockson　jumped　to　the　left。　The　disintegrators　took　a　fraction　of　a　second　to　warm　up　before　their　heat　beam　shot　forward　…　long　enough　for　steeled　reflexes　to　respond　to　the　danger。　The　beam　of　intense　heat　burned　the　wall　next　to　him。　Then　there　was　a　click。　The　weapon　had　misfired；　or　run　out　of　whatever　juice　it　needed　to　spray　hot　death。
　Then　there　was　an　awful　silence。　He　lay　flat；　breathing　through　his　teeth；　trying　to　make　no　noise。　He　was　blind；　but　the　protectors　of　Stafford's　inner　sanctum　couldn't　see　him；　either。　Perhaps　they　thought　they　had　hit　him；　and　were　waiting　for　a　movement；　a　sound；　to　prove　otherwise。　Well；　he　was　not　going　to　make　that　sound。
　He　slipped　the　balisong　knife　into　his　belt；　felt　for　the　explosive…bolt　baton　on　his　belt；　slipped　it　into　his　grip。　All　silently。　But　after　a　minute；　they　won　the　waiting　game。　He　didn't　have　time　to　wait　any　longer。　He　got　into　a　crouch　and　moved　forward；　trying　to　remember　where　the　furnishings　were　in　this　dark　room。
　Voices。　Something　about　〃I'm　sure　I　got　him。　Switch　on　the　lights。〃
　Rock　smiled；　and　froze　in　place。　He　was　just　a　dozen　feet　from　the　voice；　he　could　make　it　there　in　the　dark。。。
　He　threw　himself　forward；　swinging　the　deadly　baton　in　an　arc；　intending　to　smash　anything　it　encountered；　and　hit　the　soft　Morris　chair；　not　a　man。　He　knew　it　the　minute　the　baton　demolished　the　plastic…and…fiber　affair。　And　the　lights　came　on；　blinding。　He　spun　and　dove　behind　a　cabinet。　He　peered　over　it。
　There　stood　Bdos　and　his　two　henchmen；　the　martial　arts　masters　known　as　Nunchaku…man　and　Dedman。　Bbos　held　his　familiar　bullwhip　in　his　left　hand；　coiling　it　tighter。　Nunchaku…man　took　the　twin　sticks　of　death　from　his　waistband　and　smiled　a　toothsome　grin　of　evil。　Dedman's　implacable　huge　face　was　enigmatic　as　he　stood　like　a　straight　robot；　holding　his　spear　in　the　left　hand；　his　other　hand　on　the　handle　of　his　sword。
　〃We　will　see　if　you　are　as　powerful　a　fighter　as　I　suspect　by　your　courage；　Rockson。　We　will　test　you　one　at　a　time。　Each　one　a　fair　fight。　Prepare　to　die；　intruder　from　the　dark　realm。〃
　Nunchaku…man　stepped　forward；　the　first　of　the　movements　that　would　e　to　render　him　dead。　The　man　slowly　began　to　circle　to　the　left。　Rockson　kept　his　distance。　The　man　took　out　his　two　sticks　of　steel　linked　by　a　chain。　He　was　starting　to　swing　it　over　his　head。　An　opening　move；　tentative。　Nunchaku　against　baton　and　balisong　knife。　Well；　so　be　it。　The　huge　man　didn't　know　Rock　had　the　knife。　It　wasn't　very　obvious；　tucked　into　his　waistband。　It　would　be　his　little　surprise。
　The　knife　was　a　versatile　instrument　of　death。　And　the　bolt…baton　was　not　without　its　own　virtues。　Reach　was　not　a　virtue　of　either；　though。　Rockson　had　to　get　Nunchaku…man　to　move　in　close；　or　get　handily　defeated。
　Rockson　had　trained　in　the　use　of　the　baton　for　many　months　in　Century　City。　It　was　one　of　the　standard　martial　arts　weapons　most　Freefighters　carried。　But　he'd　never　faced　a　man　with　skill　in　nunchaku　manipulation　with　the　baton。　The　balisong　he　had　used　in　mock　bat　against　multiple　〃attackers〃　in　the　Century　City　gym。　Just　a　test　of　skill；　a　feat　that　showed　the　potential　of　the　weapon。　Now　he　was　in　real　bat；　against　three　attackers。　He　doubted　the　other　two；　hanging　back　now；　wouldn't　join　in　if　they　could　help　their　monstrous　buddy。
　A　baton　and　a　balisong　against　nunchaku；　sword；　spear；　and　bullwhip。　One　man　against　three　towering　sadistic　genetic　monsters。
　〃Piggy…face　want　some　action？〃　taunted　the　intruder…from…the…surface。　〃Or　is　Piggy…face　man　afraid　of　me？〃　Rockson　thought　the　taunt　too　simple；　but　Nunchaku…man　responded　with　anger。　And　anger　makes　one　too　impulsive。　The　worst　thing　to　be　in　a　fight　to　the　death。
　Rockson　let　his　attacker　make　the　first　move。　The　snarling　mass　of　exomorphic　madness　stepped　into　Rockson's　defensive　circle。　He　held　the　nunchaku　by　one　stick；　swung　the　other　over　his　head　and　then　forward　with　a　whoosh；　intending　to　break　Rockson's　cranium　to　shards。
　Rockson　brought　his　baton　up。　The　steel　rod；　by　the　flick　of　a　recessed　button；　suddenly　exploded　out　from　both　ends；　to　three　times　its　ten…inch　length。　The　extended　weapon　met　the　nunchaku　chain。　The　stick　intended　to　smash　Rock's　skull　swished　by　his　nose　several　times　in　an　instant。　Rock　had　entangled　the　man's　weapon　for　good。
　Now　Rockson；　taking　either　end　of　the　long　baton　in　his　steely　grip；　pulled　with　all　the　tensile　strength　his　mutant　muscles　could　deliver。　He　twisted　to　the　side；　yanked　his　attacker　past　him。　Then　Rock　made　him　pay　for　his　anger。
　Any　ordinary　knife；　even　a　huge　bowie；　would　have　been　useless　in　this　situation。　The　balisong；　an　ancient　dual…handled　butterfly　knife　of　Filipino　design；　could　be　quickly　drawn　and　opened。　Rockson　let　go　of　one　end　of　the　baton；　continuing　to　sweep　his　opponent　past。　Nunchaku…man　wasn't　bright　enough　to　let　go　of　his　now　useless；　entangled　weapon　and　roll　away。　He　struggled。
　Rock　used　his　free　hand　to　pull　the　balisong　from　his　belt　crosshand；　and　with　the　same　hand　opened　it。
　Then　he　delivered　the　blade　into　the　back　of　the　man's　skull；　slicing　int