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Working swiftly, he pushed aside the biker's chest protector and uncased a Para-Ordnance 10+1

round, 45-caliber automatic from a shoulder holster strapped under an ar on his right and pulled back the hammer He had never fired a P-10

before, but froun possessed most of the same features as his trusty old Colt 45, which was locked inside the NUMA vehicle he'd driven to Colorado froton

The headlights on the htly illuure stealing up behind theht fro on the track, and he became identifiable to Ambrose

The anthropologist spied Pitt eht, pointed behind the bikers, and blurted,

"How did you get back there?"

At the words, Pitt took careful aier

"Who are you talking to?" the first biker demanded

"Little old me," Pitt said casually

These men were top of the line in their profession There was no hint of stunned surprise No pointless discussion No obvious questions No hesitation or remote display of uncertainty Their sixth sense worked as one Their actions caly fused, well-practiced movement, they jerked the P-10 autos frole second, the expressions on their faces frozen in cold implacability

Pitt did not face the killers full-on, knees slightly bent, his gun gripped and extended in two hands directly in front of his nose, the way they taught in police academies or as seen in action movies He preferred the classic stance, body turned sideways, eyes staring over one shoulder, gun stretched out in one hand Not only did he present less of a target, but his aiers of the West who'd lived to a ripe old age had not necessarily been the fastest on the draw, but they were the straightest shooters, who'd taken their tier

Pitt's first shot took the biker on the right in the nape of his neck A slight, aler for the second time, and the biker on the left took a bullet in the chest at nearly the saure Pitt could not believe that two iven another two seconds to snap off a shot, it would have been Pitt whose body fell heavily across the granite floor of the mine tunnel

The gunshots erupted like a deafening barrage of artillery fire, reverberating throughout the rock walls of the tunnel For ten seconds, perhaps twenty-- it seemed more like an hour-- Pat, Aly at the dead bodies at their feet, eyes wide and glazed Then the tentative beginnings of a dazed hope and the final realization that they were still alive broke the horror-numbed spell

"What in God's naue Then she looked up at Pitt

"You killed them?" It was more a statement than a question