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Ayashe stood naked in the cold light of early morning. Her strong slender body shone in the sunlight; her nipples erect from the cold. She was acutely aware of the eyes of Moeller’s men as they leered at her, especially those set to chase her. But she kept her face impassive and waited. As on the occasion when Lisha had been the prey, her companions were assembled, even Larra although she could only listen to what was going on.
Moeller approached her. “You have an hour, starting now. I suggest you make the most of it, although I doubt very much that you will do better than your nigger companion.”
Ayashe kept calm in spite of the fact that Moeller’s words had her burning with hatred. More than anything she longed to hammer her fist into his sneering face, but she knew that would do her no good. More than anything she needed to take the opportunity the Nazi thug was giving her and use it to her advantage. Without replying she headed for the woods, hoping that somehow she might succeed where Lisha had failed.
“Where the hell can they have gone?” Melissa growled. She turned to Jia Li and Amy, her face fully revealing her frustration. Jia Li as usual was expressionless, but Amy shook her head, clearly just as concerned as Melissa.
“They were supposed to meet us if they found anything, not disappear,” Melissa continued.
“Perhaps that is the problem,” Jia Li said. “Perhaps they did find something.”
Melissa took a deep breath. It was precisely what she had been thinking. First Larra and then three more of her companions. Without thinking her hand went to the butt of the heavy Browning semi-automatic she wore under her jacket. “I guess all we can do is try and track them from where we last saw them.” She turned to a short, dark-skinned man standing next to her. “Miguel, they were headed for the waterfront; do you have any suggestions as to where they might have gone?”
Miguel Sanchez nodded sagely, and stroked his finely trimmed grey beard. He was the gardener of the villa where Larra and her companions and been staying, but he looked more like a Spanish don and had dressed in his finest to accompany the senoritas in search of Senora Court and the other lost senoritas. “I would think,” he said, “that I would start with the customs officer. If any women came into the port area he would probably know.”
Miguel took the lead, in asking the questions, acting as interpreter for the three women. Within a short time they found themselves inside a modest shack on which the Chilean flag was prominently displayed. Inside was a very sweaty, very obese official who smelled as if he had not bathed in a year. He greeted them with an unctuous smile as they entered the small room and stood before his cluttered desk.
The three women once again allowed Miguel ask the questions, listening in as best they could. “We are looking for three women,” Miguel began. “They were seen coming in here several hours ago. We wonder if you could help us.”
The fat official hesitated and the smiled again. “Three women. I do not recall, but then again I get many people in here.”
“These women would have been hard to forget,” Miguel said. “One was black-skinned and very tall, almost a giant; the other a blonde women; an American; and the third slender with dark hair and tanned complexion. They are all very beautiful. Certainly you would have remembered them if you had seen them.”
“I recall nothing,” the official said. “Perhaps you were misinformed about their coming in here.”
“Perhaps you need something to help your memory,” Melissa said suddenly. She stepped forward and leaned over the desk.
“Perhaps a few pesos might help,” the official agreed. “American dollars, are of course, always acceptable.”
“I had more in mind not having me cut your balls off,” Melissa said. A foot-long knife she had concealed in her boot had suddenly appeared in her hand and its point was pressed against the official’s bulging belly.
“Senora, you threaten a Chilean official?” the fat man protested, but he let out a yelp as Melissa moved the knife down, slicing open his leather belt and then and then pushed the knife even lower.
“I not sure if you have anything you want to save in there,” Melissa said in English, but you’re going to lose it if I don’t get some straight answers.”
Miguel translated and the official blanched. Melissa wasn’t sure just where the point of her knife was, but the official obviously found it very uncomfortable.
“I’ll tell you,” his jowls quivering, “just put away the knife.”
Melissa relented, but kept the knife in sight. Jia Li closed the door and stood guard, making it clear that no one was coming in to save him. “I took them to the warehouse owned by the Germans,” he said. “But I didn’t go in. I don’t know what happened to them after that.”
“You’re lying,” Melissa said. She slammed the point of the knife into the desk, just half an inch from the cringing official’s fingers. “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me what I want to know, and then I start using this.”
“Please, senora. I took them to the warehouse of the Germans. There is a man who is in charge. Mr. Smith. I left them with him.” The official was sweating profusely, droplets of perspiration streaming down his face.
Melissa looked at Jia Li who raised one eyebrow slightly, and then at Amy. “I think he might be telling the truth,” she said. “Perhaps he could act as our guide. If he is lying we can make sure he doesn’t come back.”
This comment from the normal very amiable Amy was delivered in deadly earnest. Either Amy was superb actress or the issue of his missing companions had her ready to act completely out of character. Whatever the situation it seemed to work. Almost blubbering in fear the customs official eagerly offered his services. To emphasize his fate, however, Melissa pulled back her coat so that he caught a glimpse of her sidearm. “I’m a dead shot,” she warned. “Betray us and you’ll lose your head.”
With the rotund official leading the way, the three women and Miguel followed him out of the office and deeper into the dock area. The official, who they had learned was called Jose Mendez, waddled along in front of them, moving as fast as his legs could carry him, but Melissa had no trouble keeping up, and she stayed close to him, making sure that he didn’t make a run for it.
Mendez led them to a large warehouse and stopped about thirty feet from the door. “I took the senoras in there,” he explained, “but did not stay to see what happened.”
“Is there a side door you can show us?” Melissa asked.
Once again Miguel translated and Mendez answered. “Yes, I can show it to you, but please don’t make me go in. Senor Smith will not be pleased.”
“Show us,” Melissa ordered. Her terse command needed no translation.
Mendez backtracked and led them down several winding streets until they arrived at a door in the side of the warehouse. Melissa tried it and found that it was locked, however, she noticed a row of windows about twelve feet off the ground. She turned to Miguel. “Tell him to take off his belt.”
Miguel did as asked. Mendez looked as if he might refuse until Melissa placed her hand on the butt of her gun again; then he quickly complied. Following Melissa’s instructions Miguel secured the belt around Mendez’s ankles. She handed the interpreter a small pistol she had tucked into her waistband in the small of her back. “Here,” she said, “if he gives you any trouble don’t hesitate to use this. I doubt it will make enough noise to attract any attention.”
Amy looked questioningly at Melissa. “How many more weapons do you have in your arsenal?”
“I believe in being prepared,” the tall Canadian answered. “Now give me a hand boosting Jia Li up.”
It took a bit of maneuvering to reach the window. Even standing on Melissa’s shoulders the Manchu girl could not quite reach the windows, but they finally managed it with Amy sitting on Melissa’s shoulders and Jia Li using them both as a ladder. Once up she was able to use her knife to pry out a pane of glass and then release the catch and pop open the window. It took only a few seconds for Jia Li to clamber through the opening and a very short time later the door opened.
Dragging Mendez inside with them, they took a minute to do a much better job of binding him and then stuffed fragments of his greasy shirt into his mouth as a gag. Then they moved deeper into the warehouse.
Melissa didn’t know what she was looking for exactly. It occurred to her that it was very likely that the missing women might be long gone from the warehouse, if they had even been in it in the first place. Fortunately, the warehouse was crammed with enough boxes, crated machinery, and sacks of stores that there was no danger of being discovered as long as they kept away from the part of the warehouse where they could hear activity. Unfortunately, that was exactly where they had to be in order to learn anything.
Carefully the three women and one man moved to where they could see relays of workers moving the cargo from the warehouse toward the waterfront. Obviously a ship was being loaded and Melissa wondered about the cargo. Signaling to her companions she moved farther back and pried the top off one of the wooden boxes. She chose one that she thought she recognized and was not surprised to find out she had been right; it was full of Mauser rifles. Someone was moving a lot of arms, however that did not explain her missing companions.
“I’m going to try to get closer,” she whispered. She had noticed a glassed off area that looked like some sort of office. If she could get next to it, she might be able to find out something about what was going on. Her companions nodded their understanding and moved back to better hiding places.
Ducking down Melissa worked her way toward the office. Inside she could see a couple of well-dressed men discussing something. She wished her Spanish was better, but she couldn’t ask Miguel to do this for her, however, as she reached the office she realized she needn’t have worried about speaking Spanish.
She crouched down behind some large bails and pressed her ear against the side of the office. The thin walls transferred the sound quite easily, but the language being spoken was not Spanish. “Germans,” Mel thought. A little chill ran down her spine. She’d had frequent contact with Germans, almost all of it bad. Unfortunately what they were talking about didn’t help her much. The conversation bounced around from discussion of food supplies to what night clubs they were going to take in that evening. Then one of them let slip a casual comment. “I’m going to the Grove. There’s a dancer there who’s got tits even bigger than that blonde American we picked up.”
“You like the blonde? That big nigger was something else don’t you think? Bet she’d be a fantastic fuck.”
Melissa growled in anger. There was no mistaking who the two men were talking about. One buxom blonde might be a lucky coincidence, but not when taken together with a big black woman. “Bastards,” she muttered. “I’ve got to get hold of them and find out what they’ve done with my friends.” She turned to move away and ran into something very very hard.
As she dropped to her knees she caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar sneering face and then everything went black.
Melissa’s head pounded as consciousness returned. She tried to move and found that there was something wrong with her arms. It didn’t get any better when she tried to move her legs. Opening her eyes she found she was bound hand and foot and lying on a cold concrete floor. With some effort she managed to roll over and discovered that she no longer seemed to be in a warehouse. She was in a small concrete block room lit by a single light bulb. Overhead were a number of iron pipes and valves and she guessed she had been stuck in some sort of control room.
She struggled into a sitting position and tested her bonds. There wasn’t much give but she reckoned she could struggle out of them eventually. Even as she began to work at them, however, an image came back to her. Just before she had been hit the second time she had recognized Mendez. Somehow the blubbery customs officer had managed to slither out of his bonds. Now she had the challenge of slithering out of hers.
She also wondered about her companions. Had they been captured like she had been or were they even now moving to come to her aid? There was no way of knowing and she struggled all the harder, just in case they too had been captured.
The noise of someone outside the door caused her to stop her struggles. She looked toward the door and waited. It opened and one of the men she had eavesdropped on entered. “Ah, you are awake,” he said in German. “That fat idiot Mendez hit you too hard. But I owe him for it. Now, I would like to ask you a few questions.”
Melissa started back at him without answering, acutely aware of just how helpless she was. She could feel the man’s eyes ogling the top buttons of her blouse and the curve of her breasts.
“You can understand me can’t you?” the man asked. “I expect you can otherwise why were you listening outside my office?”
He crouched down on the floor in front of her, bringing his face almost level
with hers. “Now, first off
what is your name? I expect you
are one of
Melissa did not answer, but asked a question of her own. “What have you done with Larra? If you have hurt her…”
“Ah, so you can speak? Good. Now answer my question. Your name?”
Melissa did not reply, nor did she answer any of his other questions. The man sighed. “Stubborn. That is unfortunate. I will have to give Mendez his reward and I was hoping to save you from that.”
Melissa had no idea what he was talking about. It sounded ominous, but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of asking him what he was talking about. He turned and went to the door, “Carlos, Philippe, come in here.”
Two men entered. From the way they were dressed Melissa guessed they were dock workers. “String her up,” the man ordered. I think you know how.”
Both of the men grinned. Moving to Melissa they grabbed her by the arms and dragged her to her feet. While one man held her upright the other tied a rope around her wrists and tossed the other end over one of the pipes. “Not too tight,” the man cautioned. “Just enough to get her in the proper position.”
Si, Senor Schmidt,” Carlos answered as he pulled the rope tight, pulling Melissa’s arms toward the ceiling, strapado. She gasped in pain, leaning forward as was no doubt intended. “Enough,” Schmidt ordered. “That will do. Now untie her ankles and release her.”
Carlos obeyed and Philippe let go of her. Quickly Melissa widened her stance to keep her shoulders from being wrenched from their sockets. She stood with her feet about two feet apart, her arms pulled up painfully behind her, and her upper body tilted forward. It was a position of complete helplessness and vulnerability, made all the more fearful by the fact that the top buttons of her blouse had opened, revealing her deep cleavage.
“It’s a shame to waste you on Mendez,” Schmidt said, “but you were what Mendez asked for.”
Just then the door opened and Melissa realized what she was in for. The greasy customs official waddled into the room, his clothes torn and even more sweat-stained than she remembered. “Senora,” he leered. “You will learn what it means to threaten Jose Mendez.”
“Don’t take on too many airs,” Schmidt said. “I was Carlos who found you trussed up like a pig.”
“But it was I who told you about the three bitches,” Mendez answered. “And now I will take my reward.”
He began to unbuckle his belt, but Schmidt held up his hand. “One more time, fraulein. Start answering my questions or I give Mendez his hour with you. Believe me I expect it will seem like a good deal longer than one hour.”
Melissa just looked at him. So Schmidt knew about Amy and Jia Li and probably Miguel. But he hadn’t said anything to indicate he had them as well. Mendez’s stench filled her nostrils, but she wouldn’t do anything to betray her friends.
“You are either very stubborn or very stupid,” Schmidt said, “But have it your way. I’m sure it will be an experience to remember.” He looked at Mendez. “One hour. Make the most of it.” He turned and left the room taking Philippe and Carlos with him.
Mendez grinned as the door closed leaving him alone with his reward. “So, senora. I have you alone and this time it is I who have the knife.” He produced a small jackknife and opened the blade. “Such a nice body you have, no? It would be a shame to mark it up. Perhaps if you do something for me I’ll let you off easy.” He kicked a wooden box toward her. “If I stand on this box you could give me a nice blow job. Maybe if you do that is all I ask.”
Melissa’s shoulders were already aching and her head still throbbed from when Mendez had hit her. The thought of taking Mendez’s cock into her mouth had her almost sick. “Go to hell you sick piece of shit.”
It was a comment that Larra would probably not have approved of and she didn’t attempt to say it in Spanish, but Mendez seemed to understand. “I could cut you,” he said. I could cut you bad.” The three inch blade slipped under the button holding her blouse closed. He flicked it and flicked it again, sending two buttons spinning through the air and opening her blouse to her sternum and then ripped it open the rest of the way.
“Nice tits,” he said. Spreading his fingers he traced the curve of her breasts. Melissa fought back the urge to shudder. But it got worse as Mendez cut through the fabric connecting the ups of her bra and released her breasts.
He circled her left nipple and then her right and then palmed her left breast, compressing the soft but firm flesh. “These are fit for a goddess,” Mendez commented as he used his other hand to paw her right breast. He pinched her nipple and then pulled it out from her breast, touching the blade of the knife to it. “I could cut you,” he repeated. “You suck me or I cut you.”
“Schmidt wouldn’t like that,” Melissa said between clenched teeth. “He wants me in one piece for himself. You cut me and he won’t be happy.”
She had no idea if she was speaking the truth, but she did remember the way Schmidt had looked at her. And he had said nothing to Mendez about being allowed to mutilate her.
“Bitch,” Mendez said. “I’m going to fuck you hard.”
“You’re wasting your hour, asshole,” Melissa gasped as he released her nipple.
“I’ll fuck you until you can’t sit, you bitch,” Mendez said, putting away the knife. He unbuckled her belt and then moved behind her. Lifting first one foot and then the other he took off her boots and then yanked down her trousers pulling them completely off. He gave her backside several hard stinging slaps. And then she didn’t react tore off her panties and used his belt on her.
Melissa gasped as the belt struck her naked buttocks, but gritted her teeth and focused on controlling her breathing. She had endured much worse pain and wasn’t going to give the obese customs agent the satisfaction of hearing her scream.
Tough bitch,” Mendez commented. He gave her two more blows and then tossed down the belt. “Maybe I’ll give you a bit more of that when I’ve finished. I’ll get you to move your ass.”
Hearing Mendez dropping his pants and then feeling him move into her was much harder to endure than the beating. She strained her wrists, trying to loosen the ropes binding her wrists. If she could just get her hands free…
Mendez thrust into her, breaking her concentration. The stink and sweat of his unwashed body was overwhelming and the penetration of his thick member had her gasping in pain. “You like my cock?” Mendez jeered. “Bet you’ve never had one that big.”
“I don’t know,” Melissa answered. “Is it in yet?”
It was a bold statement considering that she was already in considerable pain. She was not sure if Mendez understood her, but the matter-of-fact way she answered clearly angered him. He gripped her hips and tried to bury his swollen shaft within her.
Melissa grunted under the attack, biting back a cry of pain as he ripped her dry vagina, forcing his way into her. He pulled back and then drove into her again with a series of hard thrusts, lubricating her with her own blood and his semen. “You like that, Senora?” Mendez grunted. “I have lots more.” He continued to pound her, every movement of his body creating sheer agony in her arms and shoulders.
Dripping sweat, her large breasts swaying, her loins convulsing in pain with every thrust, Melissa somehow kept her head, focusing through the pain and humiliation of her ordeal. She centred her mind on her breathing and strained her wrists against the ropes that bound her until they bled.
Concentrating on the task of pleasuring himself and humiliating her, Mendez did not notice the actions of his victim until it was too late, and even then he did not realize the danger he was in.
Melissa’s bloody wrists slipped free, releasing her from her strapado bondage and she would have fallen if Mendez was not holding her arms above the elbow as he drove into her. He tried to maintain his grip, but Melissa twisted away and spun to face him.
“Tricky bitch,” Mendez said. He took a step toward her, forgetting that his pants were around his ankles. He swore and stooped to pull them up and Melissa slammed the ball of her foot into his nose. He gave a sharp cry of pain and dropped onto his fat backside and then Melissa was on top of him smashing her fists into his face in a flurry of punches that left him unconscious.
But Melissa wasn’t finished with him. Quickly she used the rope that had been used to bind her to tie his hands behind his back. She used his belt to bind his ankles and stuffed a crude gag into his mouth, once again using strips of his clothing to hold it in place. Then she went to the rope that had been used to pull her arms toward the ceiling. She slacked it off and as Mendez regained consciousness she looped the free end tightly around his genitals.
Mendez’s eyes bulged out of his head in terror when he saw what Melissa was doing, and he screamed in pain as she took up the slack, straining her muscles to lift his fat backside a few inches from the floor. Even gagged Mendez made quite a bit of noise, endangering Melissa’s escape, but she was too angry to care. Wiping the blood and semen from her thighs and groin with a few fragments of Mendez’s shirt, she hurriedly dressed and then went to the door.
She was weaponless except for the small knife she had confiscated from Mendez and she expected that once she opened the door Schmidt and his goons would be waiting outside for her. It didn’t make any sense for any of them to have gone far. Mendez had been given only an hour to have his way with her and it was unlikely that at least a few of Schmidt’s men would not be waiting outside. She took a deep breath and threw the door open.
She found herself in a larger windowless room equipped with a few tables and chairs. It appeared to be a place for Schmidt’s men and other warehouse workers to eat their meals. There were even a couple of small bunks against one wall. A startled Carlos and Philippe jumped to their feet, along with two more men Melissa had not yet seen. Her ordeal had left her in less than ideal condition, but she had the advantage of surprise on her side and her fighting skills were far superior to anything any of her adversaries possessed.
She caught Carlos with a palm heel to the chest as he reached his feet. The blow sent him tumbling over his chair, but Melissa was no longer even looking at him. She jumped forward and drove her boot into the groin of the next closest man, and as he howled in pain, spun to block a punch from Philippe, deflecting it with her forearm and instantly retaliating with a series of punches to his head and body that dropped him to the floor. That left just the last man, and he was hurriedly backing away. Melissa, however, was not inclined to let him off the hook. As he attempted to head for the door she spun after him just in time for the door to burst open and several more men to charge into the room.
“Shit,” Melissa thought, “who invited those assholes?” She retreated, looking for some sort of weapon and picked up a wooden chair. Smashing it against the floor she retrieved two of the wooden legs and prepared to defend herself.
Unfortunately, Schmidt turned out to be a bit of a spoilsport. He was holding a Luger P08 and did not appear to be at all amused at her antics. Both of the men next to him were holding Schmeisers giving them a somewhat lopsided advantage in the firepower department. “How the hell did you get away?” Schmidt asked. “That stupid fotz Mendez. See what happened to him.”
Two of the men moved to do his bidding while the others kept their eyes and weapons trained on her. Melissa remained in her defiant stance, although what good a couple of chair legs would do her against firearms escaped her. Finally Schmidt spoke, “Put down the pieces of furniture or I will have to shoot you.”
“Go to hell,” Melissa replied. “You think I will surrender to you just so you can have your goons rape me?”
“Stupid,” Schmidt replied. “Valiant, but stupid. Put a bullet through her leg. She might feel less defiant after that.”
With a flick of her wrist Melissa sent one of the chair legs flying across the room. It caught one of the men right between his eyes just as he was taking aim. But there was no time to deal with the other man or with Schmidt. Melissa dove and rolled out of the line of fire just as the second submachine gun cut loose. The bullets traced a line across the wall behind her and she rolled toward the tables, seeking some sort of hiding place.
It was pretty hopeless. The thin wooden tops of the tables were not designed for stopping bullets. Even as she kicked one over to act as a barrier she knew how useless it was. She hunched down behind it and waited for the bullets to come.
There was a sudden commotion followed by two sharp cries and the sound of bodies falling. Then a voice called out. “Melissa? Is that you?”
She peeked over the edge of the table and saw Amy and Jia Li with Miguel standing just behind them. “Sorry,” Amy said. “Took us awhile to take out the opposition.”
Melissa noticed that both Amy’s and Jia Li’s clothing was torn and that the Manchu girl’s trousers were stained with what looked like blood. “Not mine,” Jia Li said. “One man get too close.”
Melissa got to her feet and Amy looked at her anxiously. “Are you all right?” the redhead asked.
There was no hiding the fact that her ordeal had left her completely disheveled, but Melissa was not about to admit to any weakness. “I’m okay,” she answered. She noted that Schmidt was groaning softly and that reminded her of the two men who had gone to look for Mendez. Picking up one of the Schmeisers she headed for the room where she had been raped.
She found Mendez and the other two men cowering against a back wall. “I didn’t say you could untie him,” she growled. “Put the bastard back the way you found him.” She gestured with the submachine gun, emphasizing her point. The two men hesitated and she added: “I’ll be back in five minutes to make sure it’s done and if it isn’t you will all end up that way.”
“No, please senora,” Mendez pleaded, dropping to his knees, but Melissa simply closed the door and turned back to Amy and Jia Li.
She motioned to Schmidt, who appeared to be regaining consciousness. “Let’s find out what this bastard knows about Larra and the others.”
It didn’t take long. Schmidt proved more than willing to talk after Melissa threatened to cut his balls off. The question was what to do with him and his men now that they knew where their missing companions were.
“We don’t have time to fool around with the Chilean authorities,” Melissa said. “There’s a ship out there that belongs to Schmidt and his cohorts. I suggest we take advantage of the situation and make it ours. If we move fast they won’t know what hit them.”
“You’re mad,” Schmidt cried. He was sitting in a chair, his hands tied behind his back and his feet tied tot eh legs. “Three women can’t take over a ship.”
“Then what are you worried about?” Melissa asked. Jia Li and Amy had found Melissa’s weapons and she was busy strapping them back on.
“There are bigger weapons in the warehouse,” Jia Li volunteered. Big guns and high explosives. Maybe we could use them.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Melissa said. “How many of Schmidt’s men are still around? Or did you chase them all off.”
“We left the workers alone,” Amy replied. “We just took out the men with guns.”
“Then we might have a bit of time,” Melissa said. “I don’t want to tangle with the Chilean police; it would take to long to sort things out. Here is what I want to do…”
Melissa marched up the gangway, Jia Li and Amy following. They had left Schmidt and the other men they had taken prisoner in Miguel’s very capable hands. Now there was just the crew of the small freighter to deal with. Fortunately they had a pretty good idea of what they had to handle thanks to Schmidt’s cooperation. He had given them all the detail they needed as to crew size and where they might be expected to be. Now the mostly German crew was about to find out that it had new commanders.
They had allowed the dock workers to continue loading the ship. Fortunately, Schmidt had so many of the Chilean authorities on his payroll that only two turned up to investigate what was going on, and by that time Melissa’s plan was well under way. All of the dock workers worked quite willingly for their new bosses, especially when Melissa raided Schmidt’s safe and promised them double wages. In a very short time the ship was loaded with the necessary supplies. Now it was time to deal with the crew.
Two of Schmidt’s henchmen accompanied them up the gangway; not willingly, of course, but they proved most cooperative when given the choice of marching ahead of the women or being shot. They deliberately chose two men who had seen Jia Li in action and they were suitably impressed enough by her performance not to attempt to alert their comrades.
Taking over the ship proved easier than Melissa had hoped. Most of the crew was not even armed, and thanks to the fact that their two hostages knew where every crew member was it took only a few minutes to round up all of them and lock them in one of the ship’s storage compartments. They then took on a number of the Chileans dock workers as replacements and herded Schmidt onto the bridge.
“I assume you know how to run this thing,” Melissa said. “And you better hope you do, because if the pointy end doesn’t go in the right direction you will be the first to suffer.”
Schmidt nodded his agreement. He was handcuffed to a brass rail on the bridge near the wheel and the voice tube that communicated with the engine room. The ship was steam-powered and the stokers had the fires up and generating enough steam to get the ship under way as soon as the orders were given.
Melissa nodded to Schmidt and he shouted into the speaking tube. Slowly the ship began to move away from the dock.
Amy walked up to Melissa and spoke quietly in her ear. “Why don’t you get some rest? I checked out the captain’s cabin and it looks quite comfortable. I’ve left the medicine kit in there. I’ll wake you in a few hours and you can take over.”
Melissa nodded. She was almost out on her feet and the effects of her ordeal with Mendez, not to mention the blow to the head, had left her in less than prime condition. She knew that in the medicine kit was the mystical healing water Larra had discovered in the Lost World. The water and a few hours sleep would restore her fully. Then she could think about what would happen when the ship reached the island where Larra and her other friends were being held prisoner.
She found the cabin without difficulty, opened the medicine kit, and treated herself to a shower. As Amy had said the captain’s cabin was comfortable. Apparently the leadership of the new Nazi movement did not believe in exposing itself to too much hardship.
Refreshed and healed thanks to the rejuvenating water Melissa hit the
bed. She was asleep almost instantly,
but her dreams were riddled with visions of Larra and her friends being
tortured.
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