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"You make women work in the mines?" Hopper said disbelievingly.
"Yes, a number of them, including their children," O'Bannion answered matter-of-factly.
"You're flagrantly committing human rights violations," said Eva angrily.
Melika looked at O'Bannion, a fiendish expression on her face. "May I?"
He nodded. "You may."
The big woman shoved the end of the thong into Eva's stomach, doubling her over. Then she brought it down on the back of Eva's neck. Eva folded like a wet blanket and would have struck the ground if Hopper hadn't grabbed her around the waist.
"You'll soon learn that even verbal resistance is futile," said O'Bannion. "Better you cooperate and make your remaining time on earth as painless as possible."
Hopper's lips parted in incredulity. "We're respected scientists of the World Health Organization. You can't just execute any of us on a whim."
"Execute you, good doctor?" O'Bannion said casually. "Nothing of the sort. I intend to work you to death."
The scheme went exactly as Pitt hoped. After the
guard shoved him back into the steamy bilge with Giordino, he appeared subservient and cooperative by raising his hands so the guard could lock his cuff chain around the steam pipe. Only this time Pitt held his hands up on the opposite side of the pipe bracket. Satisfied Pitt was solidly rechained, the guard silently let the steel trapdoor drop with a loud clang on his prisoners in the stifling atmosphere of the confined compartment.
Giordino sat uncaringly in a pool of moisture and massaged the back of his head. In the dense mist Pitt could hardly see him. "How'd it go?" Giordino asked.
"Massarde and Kazim are thick as thieves. They're partners in some kind of shady operation. Massarde pays off the General for favors. That much was obvious. Beyond that, I didn't learn much."
"Next question."
"Shoot."
"How do we get out of this teapot?"
Pitt lifted his hands and grinned. "With a mere twist of the wrist."
Now bound to the opposite side of the bracket, he slid his chain along the pipe until he reached the aft bulkhead that held the rack that contained several different-sized wrenches. He took one and tried it around the fitting mounted on the bulkhead to support the passage of the steam pipe. It was too large, but the next wrench was a perfect fit. He laid hold of the handle and pulled. The fitting was frozen with rust and failed to budge. Pitt rested a moment, then planted his feet against a steel beam, grasped the wrench with both hands, and heaved with all his strength. The fitting's threads begrudgingly broke their hold, and it moved. The first quarter turn took every muscle in Pitt's arms. With each twist the fitting began to rotate more easily. When it was finally free and attached by only two threads, Pitt paused and turned to Giordino.
"Okay, she's ready to be disconnected. We're lucky it's fed by low-pressure steam for heating the staterooms above or we'll know how a poor lobster feels in the pot when she drops loose. As it is, we'll be drenched with enough steam to smother us if we don't get out of here in one hell of a hurry."
Giordino rose to his feet, knees flexed, head bent low as his soaked curly black hair met the deck plating above. "Put the guard within my reach, and I'll take care o€ the rest."
Pitt nodded wordlessly and gave the fitting a series of fast rotations until it slipped free. Then he used the chain on his cuffs to hang on the pipe, using his weight to pull it free. A cloud of steam erupted and burst into the small confines of the bilge. Within seconds it was so thick Pitt and Giordino became completely lost to each other. In one swift movement, Pitt slipped his chain free over the end of the flowing pipe, scalding the backs of his hands.
In harmony he and Giordino began shouting and pounding on the bottom of the deck plate. Startled by the sudden hiss of escaping steam and seeing it billow from between the seams in the deck, the guard reacted as per Pitt's script and yanked open the plating. A billow of steam engulfed him while Pitt's unseen hands reached up from below and yanked him into the mist-filled bilge. The guard dropped headfirst and struck his jaw against a steel beam. He went out instantly.
One second later Pitt had torn the automatic rifle from the stunned guard's hands. Another five seconds later Giordino had blindly rummaged the man's pockets until his fingers touched the key to the locks of their handcuffs. Then as Giordino freed his wrists, Pitt leaped catlike onto the upper deck and crouched, swinging the barrel of the automatic rifle. The engine room was empty. No other crewmen had been on duty except the guard.
Pitt turned and knelt down, wiping the moisture falling from his brow, squinting into the rolling steam. "You coming?"
"Take the guard," an invisible Giordino grunted through the mist. "No reason to let the poor bastard die down here."
Pitt groped downward, feeling a pair of arms, and clutched them. He dragged the unconscious guard into the engine room and laid him on the deck. Next, he caught Giordino's wrist and pulled him from the hellhole, wincing from the pain that suddenly burst from his hands.
"Your hands look like boiled shrimp," said Giordino.
"I must have roasted them when I slipped my chain over the end of the pipe."
"We should wrap them with something."
