front of him.
Boudicca looked up into Giordino’s face. The evil grin came back on her lips as she held her victim helpless in a steel grip. She increased the pressure and bent his wrists with the intention of breaking them with her Amazon strength. It was a shrewd move. She could render Giordino disabled while shielding herself with his body until she could retrieve a revolver Arthur Dorsett kept loaded inside a bottom desk drawer.
Pitt, waiting for a signal from his friend to shoot, could not line up the automatic on Boudicca under the desk. Barely conscious, it was all he could do to keep from collapsing, his vision still unfocused from the blow to the forehead. Maeve was huddling against him now, her arms clasped around her sons, shielding their eyes from the brutal scene.
Giordino seemed to lie there immobile, as if accepting defeat without fighting back, while Boudicca kept bending his wrists slowly backward. Her silk robe had fallen away from her shoulders, and Maeve, who stared in awe at those massive shoulders and bulging muscles, having never seen her older sister unclothed, was stunned at the sight. Then her gaze drifted to the body of her father sprawled on the carpet. There was no sadness in her eyes, only shock at his unexpected death.
Then slowly, as if he’d been conserving his strength, Giordino pulled his wrists and hands upward as if curling a set of weights. Incomprehension followed on the heels of shock in Boudicca’s face. Then came disbelief, and her body quivered as she exerted every trace of strength to stop the relentless force. Suddenly, she could grip his wrists no more, and her hold was broken. She immediately went for Giordino’s eyes, but he had expected the move and brushed her hands aside. Before Boudicca could recover, Giordino was across the desk and falling on her chest, his legs straddling her body, pressing her arms to the floor. Held immobile by strength she had never expected, Boudicca thrashed in frantic madness to escape. Desperately, she tried to reach the desk drawer containing the revolver, but Giordino’s knees kept her arms effectively pinned against her sides.
Giordino flexed his arm muscles, and then his hands were around her throat. “Like father, like daughter,” he snarled. “Join him in hell.”
Boudicca realized with sickening certainty that there would be no release, no mercy. She was effectively imprisoned. Her body convulsed in terror as Giordino’s massive hands squeezed the life from her. She tried to scream but only uttered a squawking cry. The crushing grip never relaxed as her face contorted, the eyes bulged and the skin began turning blue. Normally warm with a humorous smile, Giordino’s face remained expressionless as he squeezed ever more tightly.
The agonized drama lasted until Boudicca’s body jerked and stiffened, the strength drained out of her and she went limp. Without slackening his hold around her throat, Giordino pulled the giant woman off the floor and draped her body across the top of the desk.
Maeve watched in morbid fascination and shock as Giordino tore the silk robe from Boudicca’s body. Then she screamed and turned away, sickened at the sight.
“You called it, partner,” said Pitt, his thoughts struggling to adjust fully to what he beheld.
Giordino made a slight tilt of his head, his eyes cold and remote. “I knew the minute she socked me in the jaw on the yacht.”
“We’ve got to leave. The whole island is about to go up in smoke and cinders.”
“Come again?” Giordino asked dumbly.
“I’ll draw you a picture later.” Pitt looked at Maeve. “What have you got for transportation around the house?”
“A garage on the side of the house holds a pair of minicars Daddy uses-used for driving between the mines.”
Pitt swept one of the boys up in his arms. “Which one are you?”
Frightened of the blood streaming down Pitt’s face, the youngster mumbled, “Michael.” He pointed to his brother, who was now held by Giordino. “He’s Sean.”
“Ever flown in a helicopter, Michael?”
“No, but I always wanted to.”
“Wishing will make it so,” Pitt laughed.
As Maeve hurried from the study, she turned and took one last look at her father and Boudicca, whom she always thought of as her sister, an older sibling who remained distant and seldom displayed anything but animosity, but a sister nonetheless. Her father had kept the secret well, enduring the shame and hiding it from the world. It sickened her to discover after all these years that Boudicca was a man.
They found Dorsett’s island vehicles, compact models of a car built in Australia called a Holden, in a garage adjoining the manor. The cars had been customized by having all the doors removed for easy entry and exit and were painted a bright shade of yellow. Pitt was eternally thankful to the late Arthur Dorsett for leaving the key in the ignition of the first car in line. Quickly, they all piled in, Pitt and Giordino in the front, Maeve and her boys in the back.
The engine turned over, and Pitt shoved the floor shift into first gear. He pressed the accelerator pedal as he released the clutch, and the car leaped forward.
Giordino leaped out at the archway and opened the gate. They had hardly shot onto the road when they passed a four-wheel-drive open van filled with security men traveling in the other direction.
Pitt thought, this would have to happen now. Somebody must have given the alarm. Then reality entered his mind when he realized it was the changing of the guard. The men bound and posed inside the archway office were about to be relieved in more ways than one.
“Everybody wave and smile,” directed Pitt. “Make it look like we’re all one big happy family.”
The uniformed driver of the van slowed and stared curiously at the occupants of the Holden, then nodded and saluted, not sure he recognized anyone but assuming they were probably guests of the Dorsett family. The van was stopping at the archway as Pitt poured on the power’ and raced the Holden toward the dock stretching out into the lagoon.
“They bought it,” said Giordino.
Pitt smiled. “Only for the sixty seconds it takes them to figure out that the night-shift guards aren’t dozing out of boredom.”
He swerved off the main road serving the two mines’ and headed toward the lagoon. They had a straight shot at the dock area now. No cars or trucks stood between them and the yacht. Pitt didn’t take the time to look at his watch, but he knew they had less than four or five minutes before Sandecker’s predicted cataclysm.
“They’re coming after us,” Maeve called out grimly.
Pitt didn’t have to look in the rearview mirror to confirm, nor be told their run for freedom was in jeopardy because of the guards’ quick reaction in taking up the chase. The only question running through his mind was whether he and Giordino could get the helicopter airborne before the guards came within range and shot them out of the sky.
Giordino pointed through the windshield at their only obstacle, the guard standing outside the security office, watching their rapid approach. “What about him?”
Pitt returned Merchant’s automatic pistol to Giordino. “Take this and shoot him if I don’t scare him to death.”
“If you don’t what—?”
Giordino got no further. Pitt hit the stoutly built wooden dock at better than 120 kilometers per hour, then jammed his foot on the brake pedal, sending the car into a long skid aimed directly toward the security office. The startled guard, unsure which way to jump, froze for an instant and then leaped off the side of the dock into the water to escape being crushed against the front grill of the car.
“Neatly done,” Giordino said admiringly, as Pitt straightened out and braked sharply beside the yacht’s gangway.
“Quickly!” Pitt shouted. “Al, run to the helicopter, remove the tie-down ropes and start the engine. Maeve, you take your boys and wait out of sight in the salon. It will be safer there if the guards arrive before we can lift off. Wait until you see the rotor blades begin to turn on the aircraft. Then make a run for it.”
“Where will you be?” asked Giordino, helping Maeve lift the boys out of the car and sending them dashing up the gangway.
“Casting off the mooring lines to keep boarders off the boat.”
