was stiffly extended to the side. A wrenched knee, Pitt guessed.
The other woman straightened and stared back at Pitt defiantly. Pitt immediately recognized her as the apparition at the window. Part of her face was still masked with coagulated blood, but both eyes were open now and had the cold look of hatred. Pitt was surprised at her hostility.
'Who are you and what do you want?' she demanded in a husky voice with a slight trace of an accent.
A dumb question was the first thought that crossed Pitts mind, but he quickly wrote off the woman's testy challenge to shock. He smiled his best Boy Scout trustworthy smile.
'My name is Dirk Pitt. I'm part of a rescue team from the United States ship Polar Explorer.'
'Can you prove it?'
'Sorry, I left my driver's license at home.' 'This was bordering on the ridiculous. He tried another tack and leaned against the door frame and casually crossed his arms. 'Please rest easy,' he said soothingly. 'I want to help, not harm you.'
The flight attendant seemed to relax for an instant, her eyes softened and the edges of her lips lifted in a timid smile. Then abruptly the fear returned and she sobbed hysterically.
'They're all dead, murdered!'
'Yes, I know,' said Pitt gently. He held out his hand. 'Let me take you where it's warm and the ship's doctor can tend your injuries.'
Pitts face was shadowed by the floodlights irt the forward part of the cabin, and the stronger woman of the two could not read his eyes. 'You might be one of the terrorists who caused all this,' she said in a controlled tone. 'Why should we trust you?'
'Because you'll freeze to death if you don't,'
Pitt tired of the word games. He stepped forward, carefully lifted the flight attendant in his arms and eased her out into the aisle. She offered him no resistance, but her body was stiff with apprehension.
'Just relax,' he said. 'Pretend you're Scarlett O'Hara and I'm Rhett Butler come to sweep you off your feet.'
'I don't feel much like Scarlett. I must look a mess.'
'Not to me,' Pitt grinned. 'How about dinner some night?'
'Can my husband come along?'
'Only if he picks up the check.'
She gave in then and he felt her body sag in exhausted relief. Slowly her arms circled his neck and she buried her head in his shoulder. He paused and turned to the other woman. The warmth of his smile was revealed and his eyes glinted in the light. 'Hang tight. I'll be right back for you.'
for the first time Hala knew she was safe. Only then did the dam holding back the nightmare of fright, the stunning disbelief that any of this was happening to her, flood over the gates.
The suppressed emotions ran free, and she wept, Rubin knew he was slipping away. The cold and the pain had ceased to exist. The strange voices, the sudden display of light, formed no meaning for him. He felt detached, To his confused mind they were like obscure recollections from a distant place, a former time.
Suddenly a white brilliance filled the shattered cockpit. He wondered if this was the light at the end of the tunnel people who had died and returned claimed to have experienced.
A disembodied voice nearby said, 'Take it easy, take it easy.'
Rubin tried to focus his eyes on a vague figure hovering over him. 'Are you God?'
Simon's face went blank for a brief moment. Then he smiled compassionately. 'Only a mere mortal who happened to be in the neighborhood.'
'I'm not dead?'
'Sorry, but if I'm any judge of age, you'll have to wait at least another fifty years.'
'I can't move. My legs feel like they're pinned. I think they might be broken. Please . . . please get me out.'
'That's why I'm here,' said Simon cheerfully. He used his hands to scoop a good foot of ice and snow away from Rubin's upper torso until the trapped arms came free. 'There, now you can scratch your nose until I return with a shovel and cutting tools.'
Simon reentered the main cabin as Pitt was easing the flight attendant through the door into the waiting arms of Gale's medics, who gently lowerrd her onto a stretcher.
'Hey, Doc, I've got a live one in the cockpit.'
'On my way,' replied Gale.
'I could use your help too,' Simon said to Pitt.
Pitt nodded. 'Give me a couple of minutes to carry another from the aft section.'
Hala slid to her knees and leaned over and looked into the mirror. There was enough light to clearly see her reflection. The face that stared back was flat-eyed and expressionless. It was also a disaster. She looked like an over-the-hill streetwalker who had been beaten up by her pimp.
She reached out and pulled several paper towels from a rack. She dipped them in the cold water, then wiped clear the clotted blood and lipstick which had smeared around her mouth. Her mascara and eye shadow looked as if they had been applied by Jackson Pollock on a drip painting. She wiped away that mess too. Her hair was still reasonably intact so she patted the loose ends into place.
She still looked awful, she thought despairingly. She forced a smile when Pitt reappeared, hoping she looked more presentable.
. He looked at her a long moment and then screwed his face into an expression of awed curiosity. 'Excuse me, gorgeous creature, but have you seen an old crone anywhere?'
Tears welled in Hala's eyes and she half-laughed, halfcried. 'You're a nice man, Mr. Pitt. Thank you.'
