they'd dealt with the door, was a squadron of cavalry.
P. J. swung into the front seat. 'Go, go, go, go!' he commanded in a tense whisper. Megan threw the car into gear, and the car shot into motion. They flew downhill, probably coming close to the forty-seven miles an hour the engine was rated for. Megan shifted again as they encountered the upward incline.
As long as / don't turn us over, she thought, fighting to control the wheel as they bounced and shuddered up the rutted road.
The world ahead turned pitch-black as the bulk of the keep blotted out the stars. Then they hit the door, the weight of the car and the ram and the passengers combined, all at full speed. Iron-strapped wood shattered, and they were through the door and into the keep. The first floor of the tower had been turned into an impromptu dining hall. A pair of trestle tables had been set up, and some of the guards were still carousing by the light of flickering torches. Megan steered their improvised tank right into one of the tables. Some seated drinkers went flying, while other revelers dove for their weapons.
P. J. rose up behind the windshield, his twin Colts blazing away. Megan pulled out her pocket automatic and added to the fire. So did the others. Von Esbach and Sergei both used their big horse pistols. Vojak had a rifle and bayonet-'More used to it,' he'd said.
By the time the cavalry came thundering in, many of the guards were down, and the rest were retreating for the stairs that led to the upper levels.
'Don't let them make a stand!' Vojak roared, leading his dismounted soldiers in a charge.
Megan tucked away her now-empty pistol and drew her saber. It was a hand-to-hand fight now, her side trying to drive back Gray Piotr's people before they could block the stairs.
Von Esbach held her back from plunging into the fray. 'We still can't risk you,' he said. So she was pushed toward the end of the column as Vojak and his troopers stabbed and hacked their way up the stairs. The second- floor landing became a massacre-ground for both sides. Gray Piotr's people were, after all, great swordsmen, and now they were recovering from the shock of the sneak attack.
Then a lone figure came down the stairs from the top floor of the tower-Gray Piotr himself.
'Surrender, traitor!' Vojak shouted. Rifle held high, he lunged with the bayonet.
'No!' Megan shouted, realizing Alan was unarmed.
All Alan did was raise a hand. Megan heard a muted crackle, then the boom of thunder as a bolt like lightning struck the colonel!
'We've got to call Captain Winters,' David insisted as he and Leif sat in the back seat of the autocab. 'This is a job for Net Force.'
'It's the middle of the night. We'd get some automatic answering program. Besides, we don't have the time to tell him, much less convince him, before it's too late,' Leif argued. 'He'll want proof-and what can we offer him?'
'We have all those archives-' David began.
'All theory, unless you personally know Alan Slaney,' Leif snapped. 'And how are we going to explain where we got all this perfectly legal theoretical literature that's making us panic? 'Well, you see, Captain, we just happened to be inside the guy's computer. How did we get in? Was it a legal search? Er, ah… not exactly.' Right now we're the only real lawbreakers in this mess, even though we were careful not to leave any traces of evidence leading to us behind.'
Leif shook his head. 'Assuming we did manage to convince Winters to help us, he couldn't get a search warrant based on what we've got Any court would toss the request out, which means Net Force would have its hands tied.'
'Until Slaney actually uses his computer to kill someone, and the body's discovered,' David said heavily.
'Exactly. I won't wait that long.' The image of Megan lying helpless on a computer-link couch while Slaney did whatever he had planned to her just froze Leif's heart. 'If we get into the salle and see something that's not right, then we can call in the cavalry. But first we've got to get there and see what gives. And, maybe, just maybe, we're wrong. I don't know about you, but that's what I'm praying we'll discover.'
He glared out the cab window. What was all this traffic doing out at ten o'clock, blocking the roads?
Actually, he knew the traffic was only moderate for D. C. The cab was moving along at the speed limit. It was only Leif's sense of impending disaster urging him to go ever faster that made it seem like the cab was moving at a snail's pace.
They reached the salle; David dashed for the door while Leif ran a card down the credit slot to pay for the ride. He joined his friend to find David tugging fruitlessly at the door handle.
'Locked,' David announced. Further inspection revealed that the locks were mechanical rather than electronic, and wouldn't respond to any tweaking they could try via the Net.
'There's got to be a back way in, a window-somethingr Leif said.
The building was a leftover from the dangerous old days of Washington, when this neighborhood had been crime-ridden. The front windows had been bricked up. Leif ran around the block. An alleyway gave access to the rear of the building, where deliveries would be made. The door was solid metal, without even an exterior doorknob.
'If the whole place is sealed up, how do they breathe while they're working out?' Leif asked.
'There.' David pointed to a ventilation system outlet far above their heads. 'Metal grill, and then we'd have to get past the fan.'
'Great,' Leif muttered. They went back to the door, but it was sturdily built and stoutly locked.
'I don't suppose you have any lock-picking experience we could apply to the front door?' David said.
Leif shook his head.
'But what have we here?' David exclaimed, going farther along the rear of the building. The light back here was dim. Although there was a lamp fixture over the back door, it lacked a bulb. But Leif's eyes managed to pierce the dimness to see what David was looking at. A glint of light on glass somewhere on the second floor, located next to one of those old-fashioned metal exterior fire escapes.
'Give me a boost up,' David said.
Leif helped his friend stand on his shoulders, then watched as he clambered up onto the balcony of the fire escape. David lowered the ladder strapped to the balcony, and Leif climbed up and stood beside him.
'It's a window-maybe for an office,' David said, carefully feeling along the dirty glass. 'And it seems to be slightly open. Let's see if we can improve upon that situation.'
Gently pushing the window up, David began climbing through it into the darkness beyond. He was only halfway in when he knocked into something that fell with a clatter.
A second later Leif heard a muffled whumppppfff! — and a scream from David!
Chapter 19
'What the hell do you think you're doing?' von Esbach demanded, shaken out of his usual suavity. Or rather, Joe Brodsky had been shaken out of his usual character. 'This is supposed to be a historical simulation, even if it's a little romanticized. We're supposed to be doing Anthony Hope, not H. P. Lovecraft. When AHSO hears about this-'
'You're in my world now,' Alan Slaney replied. 'And you should be honored that I chose you.'
'You've gone off the deep end, Slaney.' That was definitely Joe Brodsky speaking, not the polished Graf von Esbach. 'I'm out of here.'
He concentrated for a moment, obviously giving computer orders. Then his eyes went wide. 'You-' Slaney raised his hand again, but von Esbach/Brodsky proved remarkably spry, dropping to hug the ground as the lightning bolt crackled over him.
'There will be no leave-takings,' Alan's voice took on a deeper, more oracular tone. 'You entered this world through my portal. And you will embark on a new existence here.'
Megan was scarcely listening. She was busy trying to bail out of this sim-and the program kept coming back 'permission denied.'
'We're not on the Net!' P. J.'s voice was a hoarse whisper in her ear.
