Pacific Vortex! (Dirk Pitt 1)

“You’re wasting your time,” Pitt said bitterly. “I think not,” Delphi replied contemptuously. “The submarine sits where I left her.”

“The Navy will never give the Starbuck up; they’ll destroy her first.”

“By this time tomorrow, they will have no say in the matter. An Arab salvage fleet will be here to raise the hull. These are international waters. Your Navy would never attack another nation over a derelict and be condemned by every country in the world for instigating an act of war. Their only prayer is a deal with the Arabs for the return of the sub. By then, I shall have my finder’s fee-three hundred million British pounds-deposited to a Swiss bank, and be on my way.”

“You will never leave this seamount,” Pitt said, his face twisted in cold hate. “In eight minutes you will die.”

Delphi’s eyes caught Pitt’s. “So? I am going to die, am I?” He turned as if he were ignoring an insect and moved to the door. Then he looked back. “Then I shall at least have the satisfaction of knowing you died first.” He nodded to the guards. “Throw them into the sea.”

“No last consideration for the condemned?” Pitt asked.

“None whatsoever,” Delphi said with a satanic grin. “Good-bye again, Major Pitt. Thank you for a most entertaining diversion.”

The sound of his footsteps died away and there was only silence. It was five minutes before 0500.

Giordino writhed onto his elbows, his entire body leaping in a convulsive spasm as his eyes rolled upward. He fell from the couch, clutching his throat He had held his breath until his face was nearly purple; he’d even saved a wad of saliva until this moment, letting it burst from his trembling lips in a cloud of spray between labored gasps. It was a masterful performance, and the incredulous and stunned guards were taken in completely.

Pitt watched the scene as the two guards, keeping their guns aimed in Pitt’s direction, gathered about Giordino and lifted the limp arms across their shoulders. Still without speaking, they motioned for Pitt to walk ahead.

He nodded, crossing the room to stand in front of Summer.

“Summer,” he said softly. He touched her shoulder gently and gazed into her tired face. “I have so much to say and so little time to say it. Will you walk with me?”

She nodded and motioned to the guards. They simply bowed their heads in mute understanding. Summer took Pitt’s arm and led him out into a well-lit rock-hewn corridor.

“Please forgive me.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“For what? None of this was your doing. You’ve already saved my life twice. Why did you do it?”

She appeared not to hear. She looked up into Pitt’s eyes, and her face radiated a softness and beauty that seemed to make everything else in the passageway dim and fade. “I have a strange feeling when I’m in your presence,” she murmured. “It is not simply happiness or contentment but something else. I can’t quite describe it.”

“The feeling is love,” Pitt said tenderly. He bent down, wincing from the pain in his shoulder, and kissed her eyes.

The guards on either side of Giordino halted and were stunned. Giordino’s feet trailed on the floor, his head lay far across his right shoulder. He was moaning softly, his eyes seemingly shut. The guards did not notice his forearms slipping slowly up their shoulders until his hands rested loosely beside their necks. Then there was a sudden flexing of the great biceps and the guards were smashed together, bone against bone.

Giordino stood there unsteadily on his shredded feet sporting a satisfied grin. “Was that, or was that not, a work of art?”

“Every move a picture,” Pitt grinned back. He took Summer’s chin in one hand. “Will you help us get out of here?”

She raised her head slowly and looked up at him through her spilled red hair, like a frightened child. Then she reached around his waist and clung tightly to him. A wall of tears masked the gray of her eyes.

“I love you,” she said, savoring the words. “I love you.”

Pitt kissed her again, this time on the lips.

“I don’t mean to come between you two,” Giordino cut in. “But time is short.”

Summer hurried ahead, peering in both directions at the unconscious guards. “We must go before one of my father’s men finds us like this.”

“Wait!” Pitt snapped. “Where’s Adrian Hunter? We’ve got to take her with us.”

“She sleeps in the room next to mine.”

“Take us there.”

She gently touched his shoulder. “But how? You are wounded and your friend cannot walk.”

“I’ve borne his cross for years.” Pitt kneeled down and Giordino, in silent understanding, grasped him around the neck. Then Pitt hooked an arm under one of Giordino’s knees and staggered upright.