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Boudicca shook her head and showed her teeth. "Maeve is in Washington, working as an agent for our father, feeding him whatever information NUMA has collected on the deathly sound waves. Nothing like having a trusted relative in the enemy camp to keep one out of trouble."
"I misjudged her," Pitt said brusquely. "She led me to believe that protecting sea life was her life's work."
"Any moral indignation flew out the window when she learned my father was holding her twin sons as insurance."
"Don't you mean hostages?" The mist began to lift. Pitt began to see that Arthur Dorsett's machinations went far beyond mere greed. The man was a bloodthirsty cutthroat, a predator who thought nothing of using his own family as pawns.
Boudicca disregarded Pitt's remark and nodded at John Merchant. "He's yours to dispose of as you will."
"Before we bury him with the others," said Crutcher with seeming anticipation, "we'll persuade him to fill in any details he might have purposely left out."
"So I'm to be tortured and then executed," Pitt said nonchalantly, helping himself to another shot of tequila while his mind desperately created and discarded a dozen useless plans for escape.
"You've condemned yourself by coming here," said Boudicca. "If, as you say, officials of NUMA suspected our excavation operations were responsible for sending deadly sound waves throughout the ocean, there would have been no need for you to clandestinely spy on Dorsett property. The truth is, you have learned the answers within the past hour and have yet to pass them on to your superiors in Washington. I compliment you, Mr. Pitt. Slipping through our, security and entering the mine was a masterstroke. You could not have done it alone. Explanations will be forthcoming after Mr. Merchant motivates you to share your secrets."
She nailed me good, Pitt thought in defeat. "You will give Maeve and Deirdre my best wishes."
"Knowing my sisters, they've probably already forgotten you."
"Deirdre maybe, not Maeve. Now that I've met all of you, it's evident that she's the most virtuous of the three."
Pitt was surprised at the look of hatred that flashed in Boudicca's eyes. "Maeve is the outcast. She has never been close to the family."
Pitt grinned, a natural grin, mischievous and challenging. "It's easy to see why."
Boudicca stood up, looking even taller due to the heels of her boots, and stared down at Pitt, enraged at the laughter she read in his opaline green eyes. "By the time we close the mine, Maeve and
her bastard sons will be gone." She spun around and glared at Merchant. "Get this scum off my boat," she said. "I don't want to see him again."
"You won't, Ms. Dorsett," said Merchant, motioning for Crutcher to push Pitt from the salon. "I promise, this will be your last look at him."
With Pitt between them and Elmo bringing up the rear, Merchant and Crutcher escorted their captive down the gangway and walked across the dock toward a waiting van. As they passed by the large containers of supplies and equipment that had been off loaded from the cargo ship, the loud exhaust from the diesel engines operating the cranes drowned out a dull thud. Only when Crutcher suddenly crumpled to the planking of the dock did Pitt spin around in a defensive crouch, just in time to see Merchant's eyes roll up into his head before he dropped like a sack of sand. Several steps behind them, Elmo lay stretched out like a dead man, which he was.
The whole operation hadn't taken ten seconds from the killing blow to the back of Elmo's neck to the concussion of John Merchant's skull.
Mason Broadmoor grabbed Pitt's arm with his left hand, his right still gripping a massive steel wrench.
"Quick, jump!"
Confused, Pitt hesitated. "Jump where?"
"Off the dock, you idiot."
Pitt needed no further urging. Five running steps and they both flew through the air and landed in the water a few meters in front of the bow of the cargo ship. The ice-cold water shocked every nerve ending in Pitt's body before his adrenaline took over and he found himself swimming beside Broadmoor.
"Now what?" he gasped, breathing steam over the icy water while shaking the water from his face and hair.
"The watercraft," answered Broadmoor after snorting water from his nose. "We sneaked them off the fishing boat and hid them under the pier."
"They were on the boat? I didn't see them."
"A hidden compartment I built myself," Broadmoor said, grinning. "You never know when you'll need to skip town ahead of the sheriff." He reached one of the Duo 300 WetJets that were floating beside a concrete piling and climbed aboard. "You know how to ride a watercraft?"
"Like I was born on one," said Pitt, pulling himself aboard and straddling the seat.
"If we keep the cargo ship between us and the dock, we should be blocked from their line of fire for a good half kilometer."
They punched the starters, the modified engines roared to life, and with Broadmoor less than a meter in the lead, they burst from under the dock as if shot from a cannon. They stuck the noses of their watercraft in a hard turn and sliced around the bows of the cargo ship, using the hull as a shield. The engines accelerated with no hint of hesitation. Pitt never looked back. He hunched over the handlebars and pressed the trigger throttle to its stop, half expecting a hail of gunfire to pepper the water around him at any second. But their getaway was clean, they were far out of range before the rest of John Merchant's security team was alerted.
