Lyons glanced at the reporters who, regaining their courage, were starting to get up from the turf where they had thrown themselves when the shooting started. He did not want to answer any questions within their hearing.

Archer bent to retrieve his ID.

"Freeze," one of the deputies on the sidewalk said.

"That's my FBI ID," Archer objected.

"How do I know that?" the cop replied. "Try to pick it up and you lose a hand.''

"Pick it up, Archer," Lyons said. "I'll show this goof my letter."

Lyons reached for his wallet. The sheriff's man fired. The bullet grazed the left arm of the Able Team member.

Lyons was silent, his eyes narrowed in raging contempt. He continued to pull out the wallet, holding the law officer's eyes with his own, daring the man to plug him with a bullet.

Archer swallowed saliva that wasn't there. He continued to reach for his ID.

Lyons ignored the fire in his arm. By the time the deputy had braced himself to shoot again, the wallet was in sight. Crazy Carl remained cool in his spacesuit; the deputy was sweating buckets. He lowered his gun. His arm was trembling.

Petra Dix, recovering from shock, led the wave of reporters who had stood with wide-eyed amazement at the confrontation between the gutsy Lyons and the cop.

"For crissakes, get footage," she ordered her cameraman.

The man made a move but was stopped by Politician, who shook his head.

Lyons opened his wallet and offered it to the lawman.

"Put it on the ground and back away from it," the officer demanded. "And put your gun down on top of it."

Lyons had taken enough.

In two quick steps he was grabbing the hand holding the revolver. His fist connected solidly with the side of the officer's jaw, dumping him flat on his ass. A quick kick removed the revolver from the man's fist.

"I'll have you for assaulting an officer," the man gasped.