hostages before Odyssey guards execute them."
Pitt nodded. "Fair enough."
In precisely ten minutes he and Giordino were buckled into their seats inside the big Chinook transport helicopter with Lieutenant Colonel Nash. They were accompanied by thirty big, silent purposeful-looking men dressed in camouflaged combat fatigues with armored vests, huge guns that looked like arms out of a science fiction movie, and an assortment of rocket launchers.
"Tough bunch," Giordino said admiringly.
"I'm glad they're on our side," Pitt agreed.
The pilot lifted the helicopter off the ground and took off across the beach over the lake. It was a short hop of fifteen miles to the Odyssey center. The entire operation was based on surprise. Colonel Nash's plan of operation was to subdue the guards, rescue the hostages and then evacuate the hundreds of workers in boats that were already on their way around the lake to Ometepe. Soon as the last person was off the island and safely ashore on high ground, Nash was to give the signal to the pilot of a B-52 bomber circling at sixty thousand feet to drop a massive ground-penetrating concussion bomb on the base of the mountain, unleashing a flank avalanche that would collapse the tunnels and sweep the research and development facility into the lake.
It seemed to Pitt that they had no sooner taken off than the helicopter stopped, hovered for a few seconds and set down. Nash and his men leaped from the seats through the open hatch and shouted for the security guards at the fenced gate to the hostage quarters to throw down their arms.
The other four copters had landed and received sporadic fire from a few security guards who had no idea they were up against an elite force. Seeing that resistance was hopeless, they quickly surrendered as fast as they could drop their weapons and raise their hands. They had not been hired to fight professional forces, only to protect the facility, and none had a death wish.
Pitt, with Giordino right on his heels, rushed through the gate and burst in the front door of the building ahead of Nash and his men. The guards inside, although hearing shots elsewhere on the facility, were stunned to find themselves looking down the muzzles of two very large automatic pistols before they had a chance to realize what was happening. They froze not so much in shock as in fear.
Nash was more than surprised to see Pitt and Giordino with weapons, he was madder than hell. "Give me those guns!" he demanded.
He was ignored, as Pitt and Giordino began kicking in the doors to the rooms. The first, second, third and fourth. They were all empty. Pitt rushed back to the guards that were being escorted from the building by Nash's team. He grabbed the nearest guard and jammed the Colt against the man's nose, flattening it.
"English!"
"No, senor."
"Dónde están los cientificos?"
The guard's eyes widened as they crossed and focused on the muzzle mashing his nose. "Ellos fueron tornados lejos a la darsena y colocados en el transbordador."
"What's going on?" Nash demanded. "Where are the hostages?"
Pitt pulled the Colt back from the man's nose as it began to bleed. "I asked him where the scientists were. He said they were taken to the docks and put on a ferry."
"It looks as if they're transporting them out onto the lake before sinking the ferry with everyone on it," said Giordino grimly.
Pitt looked at Nash. "We'll need your men and a copter to go after them before the Odyssey guards can scuttle the ferry."
Nash shook his head. "Sorry, no can do. My orders are to secure the base and evacuate all personnel. I can't spare any men or a helicopter."
"But these people are vital to our national interest," Pitt argued. "They hold the key to fuel cell technology."
Nash's face was hard as stone. "My orders stand."
"Then loan us a grenade launcher and we'll go after the ferry ourselves."
"You know I can't issue weapons to civilians."
"You're a big help," snapped Giordino. "We haven't time to waste debating with a hard nose." Giordino nodded toward a golf cart like the one he drove in the tunnels. "If we can't stop them on the dock, maybe we can grab one of Odyssey's patrol boats."
Pitt threw Nash a look of disgust and then he and Giordino ran for the cart. Eight minutes later, with Giordino at the wheel, they sped onto the dock. An agonized look swept Pitt's face as he saw an old ferryboat pulling out into the lake, followed by a patrol boat.
"Too late," groaned Giordino. "They've taken along a patrol boat to remove the guards after they blow out the bottom of the barge."
Pitt ran to the opposite side of the dock and spotted a small outboard tied to a piling no more than twenty yards away. "Come on, the Good Ship Lollipop awaits." Then he took off, running toward the boat.
It was an eighteen-foot Boston Whaler with a one-hundred-and-fifty-horsepower Mercury motor. Pitt started the motor while Giordino cast off the lines. Giordino had barely thrown the lines onto the dock when Pitt shoved the throttle to its top and the little Whaler leaped over the water as if kicked in the stern and took off after the wakes of the ferry and patrol boat.
"What do we do when we reach them?" Giordino yelled over the roar of the motor.