“The Adelaide is rated at forty thousand tons. I got a good look at the attacking freighter before being tossed in here. She’s a runt compared to us, capable of carrying no more than half our cargo.”

“Your entire cargo is monazite?”

“Every last ounce. No, sir, I don’t think they’ll scuttle the Adelaide. Not just yet anyway. What we’re carrying is just too valuable.”

Pitt glanced at the hurt and haggard men scattered around the fetid prison bay.

“Mr. Livingston, I certainly hope you speak the truth.”

Chapter 42

42

IT TOOK ONLY A FEW SECONDS FOR ANN TO PANIC.

Striking the water cleanly, she kicked hard, with her hands outstretched in front of her, driving deep into the Ohio River. The water was warmer than she expected, easily in the seventies. Reaching a comfortable culmination point, she arched her torso and tried to stroke with her hands. But with her wrists bound by the cuffs, she couldn’t do it.

A momentary flash of terror struck, telling her she was going to drown.

“Relax. Relax. Relax,” a voice repeated in her head.

With her heart pounding, she forced herself to hold still and drift with the current for a few seconds. It calmed her nerves, and she began scooping the water with her bound hands in a doggie paddle that would carry her to the surface. But in the inky black water, she no longer knew which way was up.

The answer came quickly when her shoulder grazed the corroded underside of the barge. She pushed herself away and drifted clear, holding on a few more seconds, before ascending slowly into the cool night air.

The current was swift, and she found herself moving away from the barge and towboat. She looked back and saw Pablo running along the dock, scanning the water. Spotting Ann’s head bobbing in the river, he pulled his Glock out of its holster.

Ann instantly took a deep breath and rolled beneath the surface. She couldn’t tell whether he fired at her, but there was no sense in giving him a target.

She glided more easily beneath the surface this time, holding her breath for nearly a minute, while kicking and paddling with the current. When she surfaced again, she was more than a hundred yards from the barge—all but invisible in the darkness to anyone on the dock. Still, Pablo had disappeared from her view.

She turned her attention downriver, searching for a place to go ashore and find help. But the dock was on the outskirts of town, and the nearside riverbank was dark and empty. A sprinkling of lights glistened a short distance ahead on the opposite bank, marking the small town of Metropolis, Illinois.