The Icerigger Trilogy: Icerigger, Mission to Moulokin, and The Deluge Drivers Read Free Page A

left. The man seemed to be adjusting a contact lens.
    “Is this really a kidnapping?” he whispered as the two gunmen conferred among themselves.
    “I’m afraid so, friend.” His accent was soft, the words precise. “We are now technically accessories to a capital crime.” He sounded very like a schoolteacher instructing his students.
    “I’m afraid you’ve got things confused,” Ethan corrected. “An accessory is someone who aids or abets the crime. You and I are victims, not accessories.”
    “It’s all a matter of viewpoint, you know.”
    “Everyone, get in the boat!” Walther bawled, not caring anymore if anyone heard.
    “Why not just knock ’em all out?” queried Kotabit.
    “You heard, fatso … dangerous. Especially goin’ down.”
    Colette du Kane was staring at Ethan. Maybe that name fitted her as a child, but now … well, something like “Hilda” might have been more apropos. Those remarkable eyes chilled him. She didn’t smile.
    “Why didn’t you go for help, whoever you are?”
    “I just walked in and I wasn’t sure right away what …”
    “You weren’t sure? Oh, never mind.” She sighed and looked resigned. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected otherwise.”
    He would have given her an argument except for the awkward fact that she was absolutely right. He’d really overdone his watch.
    “Why aren’t you beautiful?” he said idiotically. “Damsels in distress are always beautiful.” He smiled, intending it as a joke, but she saw it otherwise. Those eyes came around sharply, then the whole body sagged, quivering, bloated.
    “Now you listen,” growled Kotabit. His voice was steadier, more self-assured than that of his companion, even though the smaller man seemed to be in charge.
    “If I were to cut off your daughter’s legs, say, starting at the big toe and working slowly upward, I don’t think it would inconvenience our plans. Does that convince you?”
    “Ignore him, father,” said Colette. “He’s bluffing.”
    “Dear me …!” The old man, for all his billions, was a pitiful aged sack of indecision. Then something seemed to rise out of his mind and into his tone. He stood straighter and spat once at Kotabit. The big man dodged it easily, his watchfulness undiminished. Du Kane seemed pleased with himself. He turned and entered the tiny flexible lock leading into the lifeboat.
    Ethan thought of taking a swipe at Walther’s gun, but Kotabit showed no signs of the other’s jerkiness. While his death might complicate their scheme, Ethan entertained no illusions about what the other would do if he charged either of them. He followed the small man with the contacts into the boat.
    “My name’s Williams, by the way … Milliken Williams,” offered the latter conversationally, as he entered the lock ahead of Ethan. “I teach school. Upper matriculation.”
    “Ethan Fortune. I’m a salesman.” He glanced back at the girl. She was followed too closely by the two gunmen. Thoughts of shutting the lifeboat door in their faces had occurred to him, but they pressed too close.
    It was dark in the lifeboat. The only light came from the fore instrument panel, which was always kept on. Neither of the two gunmen made any effort to turn on the boat lights. Obviously they were afraid of triggering a telltale in the control bubble. He considered hitting the switch regardless of consequences, but was balked by one fact. He’d never been on a lifeboat except during drill and wouldn’t know the interior light toggle from the self-destruct switch.
    So they stumbled around in near-night, strapping themselves into the couches at threatening words from the gunmen. There were twenty seats, in addition to the two pilots’ couches forward. Walther was already in one, doing unseen things to the main console. Kotabit was lazily strapping himself into the other. He’d swiveled his couch around to watch the rest of them. Ethan didn’t feel like testing the other’s night