Jishin grabbed her arm, held it over the edge of the desk and broke it with a single blow.
'Where?' Jishin asked.
'The end of corridor three on the right,' the receptionist screamed.
'That's better,' Jishin said and strode out of the reception area, leaving her henchmen to kill the receptionist.
The one with the shotgun blasted her face into gory bits.
Jishin found corridor three and marched grimly to the end. Gunshots sounded elsewhere in the building. Doors in corridor three began to open and heads poked out of doorways.
'Get back in your offices,' Jishin shouted.
A fat balding man stepped out in front of the striding terrorist.
'What's this all about?' he demanded.
'Just do as you're told,' Jishin ordered.
The man did not move.
'I demand an immediate answer.'
Jishin had been forced to come to a halt by the fat form blocking her way.
'What do you do here that you can demand anything?' Jishin countered in her hoarse voice.
The man grinned in the knowledge of his own power. 'I'm the vice-president and the comptroller here. And who do you think you are?'
'Then you aren't a researcher?'
'You seem slow to get the message.'
'Then we don't need you,' Jishin told him. Her fists blurred and the fat man screamed.
For a moment the only sound that could be heard in the corridor was the whack, whack, whack of fists smashing meat. The vice-president and comptroller slid down the wall, leaving a streak of red. He died in a large heap on the floor.
Doors slammed. Jishin was alone in the corridor, except for the three terrorists who had followed her into the reception room.
'Go down this hall,' she told them. 'If the person is a researcher, leave him for me, if not kill him. Move.'
They moved, grinning in anticipation of more targets for their weapons.
Shots sounded from another portion of the building.
'George,' Jishin commanded, 'tell those trigger-happy slobs to wait until you've sorted them before they start shooting people who don't resist.'
George lowered his shotgun and went to obey orders. He was clearly irked that he had to put aside his work to straighten out the amateurs.
'Don't you two start without me,' he barked at his fellow jackals.
The door at the end of corridor three was locked. Jishin used a front kick to smash the catch. The door swung back with so much force that the knob smashed the plaster wall. A diminutive Oriental woman looked up from one of the electronics workbenches. She seemed more curious than startled. Jishin tried to place the country of origin, but could not. The small woman looked Vietnamese.
'Where's Dr. Lao?' the terrorist leader demanded.
Although the small face retained its Oriental calm, Jishin detected a flicker of amusement in the eyes. The hands continued to solder small parts.
'Dr. Lao's busy and doesn't wish to be disturbed,' the woman said. Much to Jishin's surprise, the English had the accenting given by Japanese.
Jishin had her concentration broken by a heavy dose of firing somewhere in the building. If those long- noses did not learn discipline soon, she would kill them herself. A deep boom derailed her train of thought. She knew that nothing her forces carried spoke with such authority.
She reached into a coverall pocket, pulled out a compact communicator and hit the red broadcast button.
'Is the perimeter patrol on channel?' she asked.
'Perimeter patrol leader here,' the small unit answered almost immediately.
'We're under attack. Move the perimeter force in-for backup,' Jishin ordered.
'Move in, roger.'
She did not bother acknowledging, but put the communicator back into her coveralls.
'Roger,' she snorted to herself. '
The small woman overheard the muttered 'fool!' and laughed. 'It must be terrible to attract such incompetent people to serve such a worthy mistress,' she sympathized. Her Japanese was so heavily inferior addressing superior that it was insulting.
A mere technician would never have thought to use language in that sarcastic fashion.
'
'So I am,' the woman agreed.
Jishin strode to the computer terminal in one corner of the lab.
'What is your access code?' she demanded.
'None of your business,' Dr. Lao told her in a quiet, calm voice that was still faintly tinged with amusement.
Jishin sighed. 'I suppose I must do some persuading.'
She walked around the edge of the workbench and approached Lao. Lao slid off the stool she was using and stood waiting. She seemed expectant, not alarmed.
Jishin noticed the relaxed stance, the careful placement of the feet. She knew she was meeting a martial artist, but was uncertain of the art practiced. The style hardly mattered. Someone that frail was not going to be able to block
Jishin launched a feint at Lao's head, followed by a fist to the chest. It was nothing fancy, but it would serve to demonstrate that nothing could stop a well-launched blow.
The chest was not there. The fist went by the slim woman. There was a tug on Jishin's sleeve, her forward momentum increased and she stumbled into a wall. She straightened up and shook her head. Now she knew the fighting style. This small twerp was about to die because she trusted aikido. Useless bunk, it meant standing around and waiting for the other person to attack.
Jishin executed a roundhouse kick, followed by a snap punch toward the face, followed by a knee lift to the groin. She had never seen aikido effectively used against a determined triple attack. The roundhouse kick received the nudge that Jishin knew it would. She was braced to counter it. She used her counterforce to launch the blow toward the face. The small aikido fighter spun away from the blow, receiving the knee lift to the rump instead of the groin. She stumbled into the wall.
Jishin laughed and kicked the small rear end, sending her opponent slamming harder into the wall. Lao hit the plaster with a loud slapping sound, but instead of bouncing back into Jishin's waiting hands, she spun away along the wall. Lao stopped about ten feet away, obviously dizzy and confused.
Jishin closed in rapidly, noting with satisfaction the cut over the scientist's right eye. The terrorist promised herself that before she was through, she would use that cut to peel away the entire damned face. Jishin felt great; it was a relief to find someone who could put up even a bit of a fight.
Jishin's punch was thrown too rapidly. Another tug at her sleeve and she spun from her own momentum. Suddenly Jishin's back was to her opponent, who quickly planted a small foot on her rump and shoved the terrorist into the wall so hard she broke plaster with her face.
Jishin bounced off the wall straight at the small scientist. The terrorist's fist shot out but it never connected; Lao deflected it up and outward, using the force picked up from her attacker to spin and plant a small fist in Jishin's armpit. The shot would have rendered most fighters unconscious, but it merely made Jishin stagger back and plant her feet firmly, ready to be rushed, but waiting for her head to clear.
Lao did not make the mistake of rushing an experienced fighter simply because she was groggy. The aikido fighter waited, calm, composed, just out of reach. There was no attempt to escape or call for help. For the first time Jishin wondered if she could beat the diminutive woman who stood, eyeing her curiously.
There was more gunfire, but Jishin forced herself to concentrate on the job at hand. She had a killing to
