"I don't care--I'm going with you anyway!" the girl exploded, turning upon Michael Splendor. "I'm no fluffy, helpless child to be sent to bed when there's a real job of work to do! If a man with no legs can risk his life to help Don Winslow, so can a girl. And you're not going to stop me!"
Throwing off the borrowed topcoat, Mercedes stood there slim and defiant in her boyish flying togs. Her clear eyes glowed like battle lanterns in the light of Splendor's torch beam. Before the veteran could frame a reply, a voice outside in the corridor drew everyone's attention.
"Good for you, Mercedes!" cried Don Winslow, striding up the corridor with Red at his heels. "You're not the only woman who's risking her life tonight in the cause of humanity. When he knows the truth, even Mr. Splendor won't try to keep you back!"
Don's arrival acted like a powerful stimulant to the spirits of everyone there. What had seemed a dangerous duty to most of Hammond's hard-boiled deputies, now took on the color of high adventure. There was something in the young Commander's presence which always fired men to eager loyalty, and they expressed it now in a muffled cheer.
Briefly Don outlined the situation up to the moment he and Red had left Suzette. In return Hammond told him of Count Borg's disappearance, and the preparations made up to then.
Each deputy, the Bureau chief explained, was armed with two pistols. Half of them carried Thompson submachine guns and the rest a supply of tear gas bombs. There were extra weapons and gas masks in the office, he said, from which Don and Red could choose.
"I can't see that there's any need to wait, then," said Don. "As soon as Mr. Splendor has finished his inspection, we can start!"
For weapons, both the Navy officers selected regulation Enfield rifles, which could be used as terrible clubs in hand-to-hand fighting. Mercedes, still insistent on going along, was fitted out with a bulletproof vest under her light topcoat. Her weapons consisted of a pair of automatics, one loaded with tear gas cartridges. The three of them were the last to pass Michael Splendor's swift inspection.
At his own signal, the veteran was lifted pickaback to the shoulders of a powerful deputy, and carried at the head of his fifty men to the cars waiting outside. With a few low spoken words, the deputies jammed into the vehicles. Doors slammed, starters whirred, and the raiding party was on its way, speeding through the foggy streets.