Doors on it slammed. Nick's fantasies were interrupted. Frontal attack too! Damned efficient. He slipped his one remaining cigarette lighter-type grenade into his left hand and cradled Wilhelmina in his right. The flanking car dipped its headlights as it churned through a brook, bobbed up and was crossing the near gravel path. The headlight of the car beyond the wire flamed on and it accelerated toward the gap. The handlight came on again, probing at the trees. It stabbed its glow along the brushline. There was a crackle — the submachine gun rattled. Rattled again. Nick thought, He's probably firing at one of his own men in there, one of the three who came through. "Hey... I" It ended in a gasp. Might have got him, too. Nick slitted his eyes. His night vision was as superb as carotene and 20/15 eyesight could make it, but he could not find the other two. Then the car hit the fence. For an instant Nick saw a dark shape forty feet in front of him as the car's light swung in his direction.
