Part 67 (2/2)

”How'd you find us? Zenger?”

”a.s.sume whatever you' like Where's the girl?”

”Then it was Zenger. What'd you do? Fly up last night, knowing we couldn't get off by boat until today? Then you watched the ferry depot until we showed up? Right?”

”You're smart,” he growled.

”Not as smart as your father. But smart” The man had a trace of a middle-European accent. German? Polish? Something.

”How's your throat? Hurt?”

”I like my throat. I like swallowing with it.”

”Like to swallow some water? A whole ocean of water?”

Thomas felt the grip go tight on his arm again. The man would have little trouble forcing him over the rail. Little, if allowed to strike first. Thomas reached into his coat pocket and gripped his car keys.

”I'll make you a trade. The girl's life for yours. Where is she?

Otherwise you both go overboard and-” Thomas's free arm streaked for the man's face, a Volvo key gripped like a blade between forefinger and middle finger, braced by the whole fist.

A strong forearm flew up to block Thomas's thrust. But it wasn't quite in time. The key savagely slashed into the thick skin beneath the left eye. It dug and it tore and the man bellowed with pain and anger.

Blood was already streaming from the jagged deep cut.

Thomas tried to dig the key into the man's eye. He failed. A forearm smashed Thomas's fist so hard that the key, Daniels's only defense, flew across the wet deck. The man's eyes were crazed.

Both hands clutched Thomas around the neck and throat.

Thomas knew. He was to be killed. He'd had his one chance and he'd failed. Thomas kicked at the man's s.h.i.+ns, trying desperately to dislodge the grip upon him.

But the hands were at his throat. Then only one hand as the man pulled back a fist and slammed it into Thomas's stomach.

Thomas winced and doubled again, feeling as if he should crumple to the ground. He staggered and tried to stay up. But he was absolutely no match for a man schooled in violence' A savage chop to the back of his neck, and Thomas went down to the wet deck. He wasn't fully conscious.

The man tried to pick him up.

Thomas tried to stay down. Thomas tried to crawl away. Over the railing would be the next stop. Thomas knew it.

He heard a remote noise in the background.

The man leaned down and grabbed him by the coat, hoisting him up.

Thomas was blinded by water in his eyes and pain all over his body. He was coughing and trying to break the grip on him.

But he kept being lifted, lifted. No matter how much he struggled to stay down, he was being forced upward against the railing until he could feel half his body being forced over it.

Only a matter of seconds now, for the other half to join the first.

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