* * * * *
Armitage looked straight at me.
"Still think I'm bullshitting you, Mr. Northfield? Technology like this is still just a wet dream even for the eggheads of DARPA! So there's no way the Russian Mob beat them to the punch. Not without a lot of outside help. And I mean way, way out!!"
He pointed up at the ceiling with his left index finger for needless emphasis.
"OK," I conceded: "So Sam's brother-in-law is being mind-controlled by little green men via baton-twirling co-eds. That doesn't explain why they're going to such desperate lengths to get you! Let alone, what you expect me to do about it."
Armitage paused to look at the rest of us before answering.
"As best I can figure it, everybody implanted with one of these things becomes part of some hive mind. With varying levels of subservience! The only ones who might be exceptions to that rule are those with already altered brain chemistries. Like, say, ex-flower children from the Sixties..."
"...or the astronaut-candidates of Project: Silenus," I concluded for him.
He nodded, adding: "If you and your cousin could get Captain Saito to the appropriate government authorities, the people of this planet might just have a fighting chance against whatever these aliens are planning."
I pointed at Saito with a left toss of my head.
"If we take him anywhere from here, we better handcuff him, first. Because, if you're right, he could be acting as a psychic GPS, even as we speak."
For emphasis, I took Erhart and Ebersol's handcuffs (which I had finished removing in the Wagoneer) and started moving toward Saito to put them on him. Whereupon, his eyes suddenly flew open and he lunged straight at me!
Fortunately, Uncle Jiro had taught me well. I instinctively used the momentum of the lunge to fall flat on my back with very little resistance. As I did so, I slapped one of the handcuffs on to Saito's left wrist while simultaneously digging the soles of my shoes into his midriff and using my legs to catapult up him and over my body and on to his back! I then rolled over on to my stomach and sprang forward to twist his left arm _behind_ his back.
Normally, this would have occurred in less time than it takes to tell. But, Saito suddenly proved to have the strength of a Viking berserker! Requiring me to bark at Sam and Monk for some help. Whereupon, the latter did a "Superfly Snuka" on to Saito's legs, while the former twisted Saito's right arm behind his back, so we could link it to the left one with the second pair of handcuffs.
It was only after accomplishing all that that I applied the ninja equivalent of the Famous Vulcan Nerve Pinch. Rendering Saito unconscious, once again. I then looked straight at Armitage.
"Still think I'm bullshitting you, Tight Ass?"
Before he could give me any kind of snarky rejoinder, klaxon alarms started going off all over the place!
"Red alert! Red alert!" blared the PA: "Security breach on Admin rooftop. Repeat: security breach! Admin rooftop. This is not a drill. Repeat: no drill!"
Ramrod hurriedly ran to a nearby closed-circuit TV monitor and activated it with a remote control. He then clicked through one or two more buttons before finding the camera view he wanted. One showing four beehive-shaped flying saucers on the roof...with their silvery domes slowly peeling back.
From beneath each of those domes emerged a quarter of tiny animate objects that quickly grew into lovely young Japanese women! Each one between sixteen and twenty-one years of age. Each one about five feet/six inches tall. Each one wearing nothing more than white sneakers and sleeveless black leotards (with some kind of logo resembling a gold phoenix emerging from red flames). And each one armed with a silver baton with white knobs at each end.
Batons which subsequently shrank the first half-dozen armed security guards that barged on to the roof through the access staircase.
Barker looked at Monk.
"Take these four to the escape tunnel..."
He indicated me, Sam, Saito, and Armitage.
"...and leadfoot them to the Santa Monica Airport. Mr. Northfield? You better take these with you..."
He handed me the batons Sam had confiscated from the Cahuenga Condorettes.
"...as further proof for the Federal desk jockeys. My people and I will try to hold these girls off as long as we can."
I gave him a nod of affirmation. More than half-suspecting that CPS, Inc. was about to go the way of the Alamo.
tbc
Giantess World
