by Dick Stivers
“Okay, Deborah, try it again,” Lyons told her.
“What’s this crack about children?” she demanded.
“Who the hell do you think you’ll be killing? Trained combat infantry? Armed riot squads? Hell no! If it can shoot back, stay away. We’re terrorists now. We shoot only those who can’t defend themselves.”
Deborah Devine, a platinum blonde with warm blue eyes, shuddered and moved a little farther from Lyons.
One of the white belts appeared in the firing range in his gi. He ran down the line of trainees. “Everyone change and get back into the dojo right away,” he called. “Everyone change into giand go back to the dojo right away.”
Ten minutes later, Lyons was standing in the dojo, lined up behind Deborah. This was the way of Nogi’s dojo. Every pupil above white belt was assigned to help at least one pupil of a lower rank. So by grouping instructors and students the lines formed naturally, black belts closest to Nogi, the browns next to the blacks they were assigned to, the blues standing close to the brown belts who were responsible for them. This order filled the back ranks with white belts. Deborah wore a blue belt and was the only one not assigned one or two greens. Instead she had Lyons in his white belt to follow her around.
Lyons still did not know what Deborah had done to cause Nogi’s displeasure. Although she was intelligent and attractive, Nogi seemed to take great delight in humiliating her.
When Nogi entered everyone bowed. Lyons was glad to bow and keep his grin toward the floor — he knew he had struck gold. A wide, ugly Japanese woman followed Nogi into the dojo. She wore a well-used giand white belt. Her hair was pulled together and tied, like a samurai’s of two centuries ago. Everything about her shouted her deadliness. This could only be the female terrorist leader whom Lao Ti had described.
Lyons knew that the white belt was not worn because the woman was a beginner at karate. It was traditional for a karatekawho was visiting another dojo and did not wish to usurp the authority of those who were running it, to wear a white belt.
Nogi did not have to hold up his arms to gain attention. A karate senseialways has his students’ attention. Nogi had only to begin speaking.
“Aya Jishin does us the honor to visit us again. Most of you do not need to be told who she is, but for the new recruits I will say that she is the very capable commander of all the Harassment Initiation Teams. She brings us another chance to strike out against those who have taken your jobs away from you.”
No one cheered. No one smiled. Everyone simply transferred attention to the ugly woman.
Lyons’s attention almost wandered as her monotonous hoarse voice reminded people of how they had been victimized by automation. He listened more attentively when she got down to the specifics of the operation.
“We attacked Elwood Electronic Industries four days ago, killing many of the enemies of the worker. However, the biggest enemy, Lao Ti, escaped. Tomorrow we will go back and find her and execute her in the name of the millions of unemployed.”
She had Lyons’s full attention now. His adrenaline was racing. Hal Brognola was setting that place up as a trap, but he would not be set yet, not by a long way. Somehow, Lyons had to get the raid postponed until they could get set.
“Question,” Lyons called out in a loud voice.
A sudden silence fell over the dojo. No one had interrupted with a question before.
Jishin looked at Nogi, her glance demanding that he explain how such a thing could happen.
“He started yesterday,” Nogi reported. “He can shoot the testicles off a flea at a hundred yards, but he has no civilized skills or understanding at all.”
“You had better teach him some elementary manners soon,” Jishin remarked. Her voice was hoarse at the best of times; in her anger it sounded like a bullfrog trying to talk.
“Question,” Lyons repeated.
“What is it?” Jishin snapped, her voice menacing.
“According to the newspapers, you lost your entire squad the last time you hit that place. Wouldn’t it be more sensible to learn if this enemy of yours is there beforeyou go in and throw away another squad?”
The members of the Harassment Initiation Team started to mutter to each other. Since it was their lives on the line, it seemed to make sense that the person they wanted should be there when they attacked.
“Do you take us for complete fools?” Jishin demanded.
“That depends on whether you’ve bothered to get enough intelligence. Do you know when whoever you want will be there?”
“You doubt my ability to do things properly?” Jishin raged.
“After the last fiasco…” Lyons replied with a shrug.
“Teach him some manners, now,” Jishin commanded Nogi.
The karate instructor glided to the centre of the dojo and motioned to Lyons.
“All this crap because I recommend the use of basic strategy,” Lyons bitched as he sauntered toward the sensei.
Lyons was to be made an example for all those under Nogi’s guidance. The idea was to make the beating short, swift, savage. Later, when there was no one to see, the victim could be killed and disposed of. The class would be told that he was too ashamed to come back.
Nogi faked a blow to the head and drove his foot toward the Able Team member’s crotch. Lyons’s closed fist connected with the shin bone with enough force to spin Nogi on his one foot, deflecting the front kick to one side.
Nogi backed up very quickly and stood for a moment, sizing up his disciple. Lyons stood waiting. He adopted no particular stance, deliberately looking casual, but his weight was well distributed and he was ready to react instantly. Lyons knew that he had one small advantage to offset Nogi’s lifetime of training. Nogi was forced to bring the fight to him.
“You would dare to strike your sensei!“Nogi said, his voice indicating that no one in his right mind would do such a thing.
“Of course I’ll try to defend myself if the bastard attacks me,” Lyons spat.
“It’s hopeless,” Nogi told him.
“Get on with it,” Jishin commanded from the sidelines.
“You always listen to that stupid old lady?” Lyons asked.
Nogi answered by advancing one long pace at a time, flashing out a kick or a punch with each step forward. It would have been deadly, but Lyons stepped sideways or backward each time Nogi came forward. He retreated twenty feet. None of the blows connected. Someone snickered.
Angrily, Nogi increased his forward charge. Lyons delivered a short uppercut with his right fist to Nogi’s elbow, causing the karate master’s blow to go high in the air. Lyons’s left fist slammed into the exposed ribs with the impact of a HE grenade. Ribs cracked.
Again Lyons did not try to press his advantage. He was out of the fight and away before one of Nogi’s killer fists or feet could launch another blow.
The karate instructor was no longer a coolheaded adversary. He was losing face, and anger and humiliation combined to push him into desperate maneuvers. He rushed forward with a flurry of front kicks.
Lyons backpedaled, leaving Nogi to kick hell out of empty space. The tempo increased. A lifetime of practice meant that Nogi could move forward kicking faster than the big blond could backpedal.
Lyons suddenly reversed direction, plowing straight into the instructor between kicks. He landed a hard blow to the chest. In return he received an elbow smash that sent him reeling. Nogi waited until Lyons staggered away the right distance. Then the foot flew up again. If it had connected with the plexus where it was aimed, it would have killed. However, Lyons managed to twist. The kick glanced off his ribs, sending him whirling like a top.
Lyons knew he would not have time to recover his balance, so he harnessed his circular motion and spun back into the battle. He twisted past a flashing foot and landed a light blow to the side of Nogi’s neck. Lyons stood, his body pressing against the terrorist’s, his arms working like driving pistons on an engine. Nogi was blocking the constant rain of body blows, but could no
t free an arm to strike back, nor could he lift a leg to kick. If a leg came off the floor, the force of the blows would have upset the Japanese karateka.
Nogi went low to the ground, his feet braced so that he was stable and difficult to upset. Then he exploded upward. Lyons was pushed back, once more fighting for his balance. Nogi moved in immediately, snapping punches.
Lyons found himself covering up, trying to backpedal, but forever off balance. He finally managed to fall back into a deep cat stance, most of his weight on his left leg. Up to this point, Lyons had given no indication that he too was a shotokankarate black belt. He had fought like a street-wise tough, but street methods were only good for their surprise value.
Before Nogi could recognize Lyons’s trained stance, the terror fighter’s left foot flashed up in a high front kick that smashed the instructor back three steps before he fell on his ass.
Nogi was caught by surprise. He had made the fatal error of underestimating the man he fought. The moment it took Nogi to readjust his thinking was the time it took Lyons to move forward and snap another kick into Nogi’s chest. The sound of breaking bones could be heard.
Nogi did his best to roll away from the assault. His broken ribs slowed him down. Before he could get his foot under him, another kick rolled him farther. Then a roundhouse kick to the side of the head jarred him almost into unconsciousness. With an effort that came from deep conditioning, rather than from conscious thought, Nogi managed to wrap one arm around the flashing leg and hang on. The fighters found themselves tangled on the floor.
Nogi tried for a short, hard punch to Lyons’s crotch. He succeeded only in bruising the side of the thigh. The leg that he had hit flew up and caught him in the face. Before Nogi could recover, large arms had wrapped around his head, forcing it painfully to one side.
Lyons risked a quick glance at Jishin. She had recovered her calm and was watching the fight with clinical interest.
“Finish him,” she said.
Before Lyons could react to the order, one way or the other, Nogi made a desperate bid to break the killing hold. He kicked both feet in the air and twisted his body to relieve the pressure on his neck and spine. Lyons moved both arms toward the floor in a quick, sudden motion. Nogi did not twist in time. His neck snapped.
Lyons immediately released the head and stood up slowly, wondering where the next attack would come from.
Jishin sighed.
“I should have recognized your quality and taken on your discipline myself. We are even. You insulted me by severely underestimating my ability and I insulted you by doing the same.”
Lyons nodded. The words meant nothing to him, but if she chose to talk rather than have all her killers close in on him, that was fine.
“I understand you have taken over gun instruction.”
Lyons nodded again.
“Do you also want the post of unarmed combat instructor? You seem to have proven your ability in that department as well.”
“Depends,” Lyons answered.
“On what?”
“On two things. What does it pay? And what are you going to do about my suggestion that you get more intelligence before you act. It was bad enough when I was worried about my own neck. But if I’m responsible for training these people, I don’t want them thrown away.”
It was a good speech. The others in the dojo felt that Lyons was looking out for them. He was winning their minds from Jishin. She was no fool. She could see that clearly.
“Salary is something to be discussed in private,” she answered. “But your other point does you credit. Just the fact that you are willing to speak up in defense of those who have been put in your charge, makes you much more valuable to me. Exactly what do you suggest we do?”
Lyons was surprised by her political adroitness. She moved to the side of protecting the troops without appearing to have moved at all.
“I suggest someone go to Elwood Industries and find out whether this Lao Ti is there.”
“Then do it. We will continue this meeting when you get back.”
Lyons turned to go.
“Take your partner,” Jishin told him. “We always use the buddy system when scouting.”
Lyons kept the disappointment off his face, nodded to Deborah, and stalked to the door.
Just as Lyons turned to bow to the dojo, Jishin spoke again. “You had better bring your partner back in good health, and she had better be able to account for every second of your time. Otherwise you are dead.”
Lyons nodded, bowed and left.
Jishin watched the pair leave. She then turned her glance to Nogi. She was glad to see his body there. He had caused her to lose more face than necessary in her fight with Dr. Lao. She signaled to three of the black belts. They were longtime terrorists who knew better than to indulge in false heroics. When they gathered around her, she spoke to them in a voice too low for the others to hear.
“Follow those two. If they do what they are sent to do, we’ll kill them during the raid. If they try to run, or to contact another person, kill them.”
The three nodded and ran to change into street clothes. They were confident that they would be ready before the man and woman.
8
July 12, 2047 hours, Santa Clara, California
During the afternoon only one person poked his head inside of the office where Ti, Gadgets and Politician waited.
“Setting up?” he had asked.
“Waiting for the movers,” Ti replied, and he had gone away.
It was almost a quarter to nine in the evening when there was a loud rapping on the door. Pol and Gadgets slid against the wall behind the door, leaving Ti to handle whoever was there. If someone forced their way into the room, it would be easy to spot the Able Team warriors, but there was nowhere else to hide.
Ti saw a solid, smoothly muscled woman who stood five-foot ten. She had fine blond hair, cut short. Behind Babette stood two brawny individuals. One had his hand around the woman’s elbow.
“Babette!” Ti shrilled. “It’s so good of you to come and keep me company.”
Ti threw herself into the strange woman’s arms.
Babette’s left arm tore free of the goon’s grip and wrapped itself around Lao Ti.
“No problem. How long do you figure you’ll have to wait?”
Lao, who had no idea how Babette would react, breathed a sigh of relief before answering. “The boss says that if the moving truck isn’t here by ten, I might as well lock up.”
“You girls going to be here until ten?” one of the HIT men asked.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Babette said coldly.
“Aw, nah. Nothing like that. We’ll keep an eye open for you, that’s all,” the man answered.
“Thank you,” Babette said in a cold voice. “I’m sure we can manage.”
She stepped inside, turned and closed the door. Immediately she saw Pol and Gadgets hiding against the wall.
Ti put her ear to the door to hear if the two men were moving away. Soon she heard the elevator and risked opening the door. They were gone. She looked back to report, but found Babette and Gadgets in a tight clinch.
“Is it best out of three falls, or can anyone take on the winner?” Ti asked.
Gadgets and Babette, close friends since Able Team’s last mission, started laughing.
Ti took a long, up-and-down look at Babette. “How can anyone so large do what you need?” she asked.
Babette laughed. “Don’t you know? Large women are more fun.”
“Wasn’t quite what she had in mind,” Gadgets told Babette. “We have some bodies to get rid of. We’re hoping you can walk a small ledge to a window.”
Babette immediately got down to business. “Show me,” she said.
Gadgets took her to the window and showed her the ledge.
“We need to get a rope in the other window,” he explained.
Babette pulled her head inside. “It’s no problem,” she said. “Just a matter of keeping my center of
gravity within five inches of the building. Do we start now?”
“Let’s wait until it gets a shade darker,” Pol suggested. “I bought some good nylon line, and pitons to drive into the mortar…”
Half an hour later, Schwarz and Blancanales carefully lowered Babette two floors. The rope was tied under her arms about the center of its length. She kept the excess coiled over her shoulder. As she descended she kept her arms and legs out to keep from spinning on the end of the rope.
When Babette’s heels hit the ledge at the fourth floor, she seized the rope and brought her arms straight in front of her, forcing her body back, flat against the building. Slowly and cautiously she resettled her feet so that her heels were tight against the building face. Then she signaled for slack in the rope.
Pol and Gadgets played out the rope with smooth teamwork. Never was more than one of the four hands off the thin nylon line. Ti stood by the office door, prepared to deal with unwelcome visitors.
Babette kept her knees slightly flexed to keep her weight as far back as possible. She slid her left leg out eight inches and then brought her right leg in eight inches. She looked as if her spine was held to the building by a strong magnet.
When she reached the window she carefully removed a mirror from the front pocket of her slacks. She held this so she could inspect the interior of the computer room. After carefully scanning the inside of the room, Babette began the process of moving back along the ledge. When under the window where Pol and Gadgets waited, she signaled to be hoisted up.
Once back inside the office, Babette reported. “My two friends who escorted me up here are sitting in the computer room. They seem to be alone, but they have a walkie-talkie nearby. I would guess that they’re waiting for us to leave before they start to search the building.”
“We have to get them out of there before they lose patience,” Politician pointed out.
“How?” Ti asked.
“The perfect solution is to distract them while the bodies go in the window, and then just leave,” Pol said after a moment’s silence. “Let themexplain how the bodies got into the computer installation they were guarding.”