The putt-putt of a small motor preceded the appearance of a golf cart bearing a muscular blond man wearing a fitted uniform with a holstered pistol on his hip. A coiled bullwhip dangled from a belt hook on the opposite side. Pitt noticed the guards tense at his arrival.

“Looks like a lion tamer,” Giordino whispered.

“For a circus I want no part of,” Pitt said.

The overseer, Johansson, crossed the dock and spoke to Gomez, who had followed the prisoners off the ship. The Swede examined the freighter with a satisfied gleam.

“She’s carrying a full load of crushed monazite,” Gomez said. “Testing confirmed high concentrates of neodymium, cerium, and dysprosium.”

“Excellent. The extraction facilities have been waiting for new material. We will engage the new prisoners in off-loading the ore.”

“What about the ship?”

“She would make a nice addition to the fleet. Determine what reconfigurations are required to erase her identity, and we’ll discuss it with Bolcke after she’s unloaded.”

Johansson turned his back on Gomez to examine the new captives. He reviewed the men with a caustic eye, paying particular attention to the SWAT team.

“Welcome to Puertas del Infierno,” he said, “the Gates of Hell. You now belong to me.”

He waved his arm across the dock toward the buildings beyond. “This is an ore-refining center. We take raw ore and process it into various minerals of high value. You will be workers in the process. If you work hard, you will live. If you do not complain, you will live. And if you do not attempt escape, you will live.” He stared down the line of weakened men. “Are there any questions?”

A crewman from the Adelaide, one who’d had a difficult time in captivity, cleared his throat. “When will we be released?” he asked.

Johansson approached the man and smiled at him. Then he casually pulled his sidearm and shot the man in the forehead. A swarm of nearby jungle birds screeched at the sound as the man tumbled backward, falling into the water dead.

The other assembled captives gaped in stunned silence.

Johansson grinned. “Are there any more questions?”

Met by barely a heartbeat, he holstered his weapon. “Good. Again, I welcome you to Puerta del Infierno. Now, let’s get to work.”

Chapter 51

51

THE DEEP THROB OF THE TOWBOAT’S ENGINE FELL silent, revealing the lesser sound of waves lapping against her hull. Awakened by the absent growl and vibration, Ann arose from her bunk and stretched her arms. She rubbed her wrists, where the handcuffs irritated her skin, and stepped to a tiny porthole on the starboard bulkhead.