His eyes large with shock and horror, the driver of the second vehicle pumped his brake furiously, swerved sideways, and went shooting past the ruined vehicle, coming close enough to see the charred, blistered remains of a face amid the flames in its rear window. Then his tires tripped a second mine and there was another roaring explosion. The last thing he heard as his vehicle was blown apart was the sound of his terrified scream mingling with those of his passengers.

Scarcely a dozen yards behind him, the third car's driver succeeded where the others hadn't. Chunks of metal and blasted pavement raking his hood, he wrenched his steering wheel sharply to the left, jolting off the road and onto the bordering lawn, his tires spinning up clots of soil and grass. With precious extra seconds to react, the man at the wheel of the last car veered in the opposite direction, also screeching to a halt in time to avoid sudden death.

In the darkness beyond the road, two members of Orange Team lay in silent hiding. Both intruders had moved off slightly ahead of their companions after sowing the road with mines, managing to outpace the northern perimeter's security robot and stay well beyond its surveillance range.

They lingered where they were for several moments, peering at the conflagration through their night-vision glasses, watching the dazed survivors of the ambush stagger from their cars. Then a fresh explosion shook the compound to the west, sending a ragged wedge of fire into the sky.

Blue Team's success violently confirmed, the two men retreated into the shadows. Their trap had been sprung, but they were not yet finished here tonight.

The final stage of the operation was about to get under way.

Kuhl stared ahead into the explosion's glare and imagined its shock waves sending ripples through the hearts of his opposition. He had planned tonight's mission carefully, overseen its every detail, and his preparation was bringing its dividends in results.

Now he heard a tearing metallic sound like some inhuman cry of agony, and saw a crumpled section of the perimeter fence launch into the air and then plunge earthward in a shower of sparks and debris.

It was time.

Kuhl turned to his driver and instructed him to give the signal to mobilize. He nodded in response, and flicked his headlights and taillights on and off once.

The driver at his rear did the same, and then the driver behind him, the signal rapidly making its way down the line of jeeps.

Their engines coming to life, they began rolling toward the fire and thunder of the blasts, the way into the installation open before them.

His face chalk-white, Thibodeau passed the radio headset back to Delure with an unsteady hand. Even underground, the detonations around the compound had been audible as muffled thuds, the last and most powerful of them shaking the walls as if there had been an earthquake. But it was not until after they'd heard from the ambushed quick-response team--or what was left of it, God help those poor boys--that he had started to tremble. Now, in the ominous silence that had followed the blasts, he realized only a supreme effort of will would make that trembling stop.