their frozen breaths hanging in vaporlike clouds above their heads before condensing and freezing on the walls.
The cold itself might have been tolerated, no matter how miserable, but the high humidity made the freezing temperatures unbearable. Their condition was further aggravated by not having had anything to eat since leaving Punta del Este. The hijackers made no effort to provide food for the passengers and crew. Ammar's inhuman callousness took its toll as and fear of the unknown the cold sapped their strength, drugged their minds.
for the first part of the voyage, the prisoners had survived on nothing but water out of the faucets in the bathroom showers and washbasins. But the pipes had frozen, and the torment of thirst was added to the ache of hunger.
The Lady Flamborough had been refitted to sail tropical seas and carried only a minimum supply of blankets. Everyone who came on board in Puerto Rico or Punta del Este had packed for a temperate climate and had left all winter clothing in closets at home. The prisoners bundled up as best they could, wearing several layers of lightweight shirts, pants and socks. They wrapped their heads in towels to retain body heat. The cold-weather gear they sorely missed most was gloves.
There was no warmth anywhere. Animar had refused all pleas to circulate heat throughout the ship. He could not afford the luxury. Interior heat would have melted the ice film on the plastic sheeting and sabotaged the deception.
Hala was not the only prisoner awake. Most had found it impossible to drop off into a sound sleep. They lay as if in a hypnotic trance, aware of their surroundings but unable to make any kind of physical effort.
any thoughts of resistance had rapidly drained away under the onslaught.
Instead of fighting the hijackers, Captain Collins and his crew were reduced to stru gling to stay alive against the numbing cold.
Hala raised to her elbows as Senator Pitt came into the room.
He made a strange appearance, wearing a gray business suit over a blue pinstripe. He gave Hala a smile of encouragement, but it was a pathetic effort. The fatigue of the past five days had taken away his youthful look, and he looked closer to his true age.
"How you holding up?" he asked.
"I'd give my right arm for a cup of hot tea," she said gamely.
"for my part, I'd give more than that."
President De Lorenzo sat up and dropped his feet on the deck. "Did someone say hot tea?"
"Just fantasizing, Mr. President," replied the Senator. "I never thought I'd find myself starving and freezing to death on a luxurious cruise ship."
"Nor I," said Hala.
President Hasan gave a slight moan as he changed position and lifted his head.
"Is your back bothering you?" asked President De Lorenzo, his face reflecting concern.
"I'm too cold to hurt," Hasan said with a tight smile.
"Can I help you up?"
"No, thank you. I think I'll just remain here in bed and conserve whatever strength I have left." Hasan looked at De Lorenzo and smiled thinly. "I wish we had met and become friends under more comfortable circumstances."
"I've heard the Americans say, 'Politics makes strange bedfellows." We seem to be a literal example."
"When we get out of this, you must be my guest in Egypt."
De Lorenzo nodded. "A reciprocal agreement. You must also visit Mexico."
"An honor I gladly accept.
The two Presidents solemnly shook hands on it-no longer pampered heads of state but two men whose lives shared a fate they could not control and were determined to end with dignity.
"The engines have stopped," said Hala suddenly.
Senator Pitt nodded. "The anchors were just dropped. We're moored, and they've shut down the engines."
"We must be near land."
"No way of telling with the port windows hidden."