Authors: Robert W. Walker
"You'll never get away with this."
"Who's to stop us?"
"Ovierto will kill you before it's over. He's too greedy to—"
"I know what Ovierto is and I know how badly he wants you."
"Who are you?"
"Just another merchant marine."
"Where do you know Ovierto from?"
"Houston. Spent some time in jail with him. Smooth the way he escaped, cutting that guard's throat with his teeth! Now, it's your turn, pretty lady. Too bad, really."
"All right, you've got what you want. Now what?"
"Come on, out on deck where he can see you."
"You actually trust him to cut you in on the deal for the most powerful tool on the face of the Earth?"
"Don't worry about my ass, Fed lady."
He pushed her along the corridor of the ship. One man came out of a hatchway and he hit him so hard with the pistol that he was knocked unconscious.
"How do you hope to escape from here, inside the locks?" she asked.
"All taken care of. Nothing for you to concern yourself with. Now shut up and move. Up, up!"
She was on the ladder ascending to the deck above.
"Higher, go on," he ordered.
"Isn't there anything you want from me before... before he gets his hands on me?" she asked in her most sultry voice.
"Huh? Hmmmph!" he laughed slightly. "Guess it wouldn't hurt to take a bite of his apple. He wants you badly, you know, very badly."
"What about you?" She dangled her long leg in his face. Blood stained her slacks and this seemed to excite him further.
"My bunks on the next level. Hold up there," he said. "Guess Ovierto can wait a little longer."
"Good... good. You're so strong," she told him as he came up, holding the gun firmly on her. "Which way?" she asked.
He indicated the doorway, a metal hatch through which she had to duck. He shoved her and she fell against the bare bunk inside. Ha was immediately at her, tearing at her clothes, the gun held against her cheek.
"Let me kiss you," she said in his ear. "I want my tongue in your mouth. Now, now!"
He eased the gun away and had shoved his tongue deep within her when he realized that something had fired into his throat, as if a cap had come off her teeth and he'd nearly swallowed it. He caught the capsule in his teeth and she suddenly rammed his jaw and head together, causing him to crush the cyanide between his teeth. His eyes wide, he tried to lift the gun, but the fact that poison was nearly instantaneous, combined with his surprise, rendered him in-capable of lifting the weapon to fire. He fell over her, dead. She shoved him away, grabbing the gun and snatching the Pythagoras package from beneath him.
Now she'd find the top deck on her own steam and in control.
CHAPTER TWENTY -SIX
Robyn Muro had come to her senses but was not fully capable of using her hands and fingers. She tried to wrap them around the flashlight, to check her watch, a process that seemed to take an eternity. She whispered to Riley beside her, but there was no response from him. She began to fear for Paul. She tried rousting him but when she did so, she heard noises from outside the cold box. It was scraping, tearing along the bottom. They were being hoisted out the back of a truck of some sort, she guessed. The time was 7:06 P.M., and suddenly the box was dropped hard on a hard surface.
Outside noises were odd and indistinguishable. She thought she heard the sound of rushing, foaming water, and then it was just lapping water. Over this came the groan of mechanical engines and an occasional human voice in the distance. Someone somewhere had been shouting, but no more.
She wondered where Donna was at this moment. The cold inside the box was beginning to affect her badly now, and she couldn't stop shaking. "Riley, Riley," she whispered, and she pushed at the dead weight against her, but for the moment, at least, it seemed useless.
The shakes were taking hold badly. She felt for the covered needle at her side which would send her back into a state of unfeeling. She dreaded the thought, and feared a second injection. Is that what had happened to Riley? Had he gone to a second injection? And if so, had it been too much for his body and mind to sustain? Had the Benz crap killed Paul Riley? Did she dare inject herself again? She recalled the horror of the loneliness it had created in her, the fearful thoughts that had bordered on hallucinations. At least now she knew there were people just on the other side of the crate, and even the slimy, cold feelings of lying in the damp, frigid water that had condensed inside the storage box were at least feelings. Better than the opposite. Better to freeze to death than to die without feeling, she told herself.
But the frustration was overwhelming, and she wanted to start kicking and screaming and shouting for someone—anyone—to pull her free from this hell. Anyone, that is, but Dr. Maurice Ovierto.
So she held on and held on and held on, talking in a whisper to Riley, putting her own numb hand on his, holding it and squeezing in an attempt to regain the feeling in her own hand, but also to reassure him that she was there and that he wasn't alone.
Then she heard him—Ovierto. His weight was suddenly on top of the box and he was saying something nearly unintelligible to someone out there. It sounded like they were talking about fish... fishing... fishing in the area. Then Ovierto suddenly shouted to someone in the distance.
"Stop it there! Hold to this level!"
Hold to what level? Level of what? she asked her-self. The letter told Donna to make her way to the locks on the St. Lawrence Seaway. Were they here now? Was Ovierto somehow in charge of the locks? Using a disguise, using Bateman's FBI badge, it was possible.
She tried to think clearly, to work out in her mind exactly why Ovierto had brought Donna here. Below the locks, giant turbines would be sucking in tons of water.
Then it dawned on Robyn, and she realized that doubling for Donna's mother in the frigid coffin was far more dangerous than she'd at first thought. Ovierto intended to send the racked bones of the Thorpes to the bottom of the locks, to be forever lost to the churning waters here as a final defilement of the bodies, all to crush Donna.
Robyn realized that she and Riley could be killed at any moment, no one ever knowing they were inside the crate. She began shoving Riley harder and harder, making too much noise. She then located her gun and grasped it before she realized that since it was solidly frozen and had also been swimming in a pool of water, it might not fire properly. She rubbed the weapon into her body, doing what she could to warm it. She finally tore off the wet- suit gloves and grasped it in both hands. The frozen metal glued itself instantly to her palms.
Then she remembered the crowbar. It, too, would be frozen to the touch. She painfully pried the gun from her skin, couching it in her crotch, and began the search for Riley's crowbar. It must be the other side of him. She rose, and the gun slid into the puddle beside her. From inside the noise seemed enough to raise the dead, but it got no response from Riley, nor the men outside the box.
She fished with her hands, the burning of her palms a constant now, reminding her how one simple slip could end all her pain.
"What was that?" asked someone outside the box, a voice other than the one she was certain had to be Ovierto. Ovierto's voice was tinged with an acidic, crackling sound like an unhealthy motor at the back of his throat constantly trying to ignite.
"Nothing, shut up, kid!" Ovierto replied. "Just get ready to dump over the contents of that crate when I tell you to, and make sure the contents go into the locks."
She knew Ovierto. She knew he had done his re-search, and that while there'd be filters on the turbines at the bottom of the locks, they'd have holes in them large enough for a human being to be sucked down and pushed out. To recover hers and Riley's remains the entire system would have to be shut down and drained. It was likely the fate he had in mind for Thorpe, too.
She had to do something... had to do it soon. But what? And how?
Her gloved fingertips reached the crowbar just as she realized, draped over Riley, that the life had gone from her sleeping partner. The chill in the box became so much colder. Using the light, she saw that he had indeed gone to a second injection. She checked a thermometer needlessly confirming that the temperature inside here was hovering at the freezing point. The seaway water had to be warmer. Poor Riley...
"Whataya' got in the box, boss?" she heard the younger voice overhead, and it made her douse the light.
"You ever hear of casting ashes over the water?"
"Like cremated people, you mean? Sure."
"That's kinda what we've got to do here, kid."
"That ain't no ashes inside there, though. Less you got a regiment of dead men in there all cremated."
"Where is that bitch?" shouted Ovierto.
Robyn's shivering was increasing. The wet suit was not helping much. She worried that soon she'd be uncontrollably kicking the sides of the box, but she dared not take another injection of Boas's nasty concoction.
She tried to concentrate on the sounds from above and to tighten her grip on the crowbar. It went silent above for a moment, and this silence stretched to a while and then to several minutes. She wondered if she dared try her hand at the crowbar. How much noise would it make? Would it alert Ovierto to her presence?
God, she felt alone.
As far as Dr. O was concerned, everything was going as planned, save for one small matter. Where was Thorpe? He could not find her in the gallery of people on the other side as the ship came to the level of the platform of concrete he stood upon. He had heard some disturbance, some crowd noises, but she was nowhere to be seen. And where the hell was Templeton, his contact on board the ship? The one who would go between Ovierto and Thorpe with the goods, bringing Pythagoras to Ovierto's hands? He smelled something in the air that told him things were not right.
He searched through field glasses for any sign of Thorpe. Had she slinked away? Backed out? There were a handful of deck hands milling about on board the ship, some waving at the people in the gallery who watched the ship stop in its descent. Then he saw one of the black-coated crew members coming directly toward him, holding up a package. It was Templeton; the fool had already made contact with Thorpe.
Then he saw that he was not large enough about the shoulders to be Templeton, and he realized it was Donna Thorpe.
"Ready that crate, Indian! Now!" he shouted.
The heavyset young Indian man was confused suddenly when he found the lid was loose, pried open from the inside. He backed away from the crate, his hands shaking, saying, "You got people inside here! You had us smuggle people into the States, man! Are you crazy?"
"Dump it upright like I told you!"
"Not me, man! I'm through here, through."
Ovierto let him turn before he let fly with a knife that struck the Indian between the shoulder blades and sent him to his knees, where his body hesitated a moment before completely toppling over.
Ovierto then got behind the crate and placed a foot on it, sending it to its side, the top creaking open, water spilling out.
"Hold it, Ovierto!" shouted Donna Thorpe from where she stood on the ship, her gun trained on him.
"The papers, dear, or mommy dearest and daddy dearest are gone, forever lost in the bowels of this place. Do you understand me?" His voice was like knives over stone.
"You go right ahead. So long as you're dead, I'd gladly sacrifice that box of bones."
"You're lying. If you think I'm bluffing..."
He tilted the crate forward at a dangerous angle before the locks. The crate would fall between the lock walls and the ship. "Now, just toss over what you have brought me and I'll spare this collection that is so sacred to you."
Donna had him in her sights and was about to pull the trigger when she saw Riley's hand spill from the crate. The flesh was bloated, blue and cold. He was obviously dead, whoever he was, just another of Ovierto's victims. The crate tilted still further and she saw Riley's head, shoulders and torso slide down the stone wall.
"Damnit, no!" she screamed.
Ovierto had not bothered to watch; his eyes were pinned on his prey on board the ship. Across the way, the spectators were aghast at what they were witness to. Some ran for their cars.
"The papers, now! Or the other one goes!"
Donna then saw Robyn Muro carefully feeling her way to the stone edge of the locks, searching for a foothold, her hands making only stiff progress.
"All right, all right!" shouted Donna, trying to buy Robyn some time. "I'm ready to deal."
"That's more like it, my dear," said Ovierto. "I knew you could be reasonable. Throw it over, now!"
Donna hesitated, to make it look good. She knew that the moment he got what he wanted the entire crate and its contents were headed for the deep. Already, the churning waters had claimed Riley's body. "All right, all right," she repeated as she moved closer to the edge. She did a ballplayer's wind up with the dummy package, knowing that she'd have to make her move as soon as the package was airborne. She sent it across just as Robyn found some long spikes in the concrete wall to hold onto, her gun clenched tightly in her teeth. She was wearing a wet suit, and now Donna understood how she had gotten here. It was a foolish attempt that might yet end in her death.