His first officer nodded and hurried off. Pokofsky returned to his cabin.
"Problems?" Ombrikov asked.
Before Pokofsky could answer he felt a slight shudder run through the ship. He stood there curious for perhaps half a minute, tensed and alert, but nothing more seemed to happen.
Then suddenly the Leonin Andreyev was rocked by a violent explosion that heeled her far over to starboard, flinging people off their feet and sending a convulsive shock wave throughout the ship. A great sheet of fire erupted from the port side of the hull, raining fiery steel debris and oil over the exposed decks. The blast reverberated over the water until it finally died away, leaving an unearthly silence in its wake and a Solid column of black smoke that mushroomed into the sky.
What none of the seven hundred passengers and crew knew, what many of them would never come to learn, was that deep aminship the fuel tanks had detonated, blowing a gaping hole half above and half below the waterline, spraying a torrent of burping oil over the superstructure in blue and green flames, scarring the victims and blazing across the teak decks with the speed of a brush fire.
Almost instantly, the Leonin Andreyev was transformed from a luxurious cruise liner into a sinking fiery pyre.
Pitt stirred and wondered dully what had happened. For a full minute as the shock wore off he remained prone on the deck, where he'd been thrown by the force of the concussion, trying to orient himself.
Slowly he rose to his hands and knees, then hoisted his aching body erect by grabbing the inner doorknob. Bruised but still functioning, nothing broken or out of joint, he turned to examine the others.
Giordino was partly crouched, partly lying across the threshold of the shower stall. The last thing he remembered was sitting in the cabin. He wore a surprised look in his eyes, but he appeared unhurt.
Moran and Loren had fallen out of the bunks and were lying in the middle of the deck. They were both dazed and would carry a gang of black and blue marks for a week or two, but were otherwise uninjured.
Larimer was huddled in the far corner of the cabin. Pitt went over and gently lifted his head. There was an ugly welt rising above the senator's left temple and a trickle of blood dripped from a cut lip. He was unconscious but breathing easily. Pitt eased a pillow from the lower bunk under his head.
Giordino was the first to speak. "How is he?"
"Just knocked out," Pitt replied.
"What happened?" Loren murmured dazedly.
"An explosion," said Pitt. "Somewhere forward, probably in the engine room."
"The boilers?" Giordino speculated.
"Modern boilers are safety-designed not to blow."
"God," said Loren, "my ears are still ringing."
A strange expression came over Giordino's face. He took a coin out of his pocket and rolled it across the hard-carpeted deck. Instead of losing its momentum and circling until falling on one side, it maintained its speed across the cabin as though propelled by an unseen hand and clinked into the far bulkhead.
"The ship's listing," Giordino announced flatly.
Pitt went over and cracked the door. Already the passageway was filling with passengers stumbling out of their cabins and wandering aimlessly in bewilderment. "So much for plan B."
Loren gave him a quizzical look. "Plan B?"
"My idea to steal the boat from Cuba. I don't think we're going to find seats."
"What are you talking about?" Moran demanded. He rose unsteadily to his feet, holding on to a bunk chain for support. "A trick. It's a cheap trick to flush us out."
"Damned expensive trick if you ask me," Giordino said nastily.
"The explosion must have seriously damaged the ship. She's obviously taking on water."
"Will we sink?" Moran asked anxiously.
Pitt ignored him and peered around the edge of the door again.
Most of the passengers acted calm, but a few were beginning to shout and cry. As he watched, the passageway became clogged with people stupidly carrying armfuls of personal belongings and hastily packed suitcases. Then Pitt caught the smell of burning paint, quickly followed by the sight of a smoky wisp. He slammed the door and began tearing the blankets off the bunks and throwing them to Giordino.
"Hurry, soak these and any towels you can find in the shower!" Giordino took one look at Pitts dead-serious expression and did as he was told. Loren knelt and tried to lift Larimer's head and shoulders from the deck. The senator moaned and opened his eyes, looking up at Loren as if trying to recognize her. Moran cringed against the bulkhead, muttering to himself.