Giordino whistled. “Makes for a tidy profit.”

“The extraction facilities,” Pitt said, thinking escape. “I’m guessing they must use a large amount of chemicals in the process.”

“Some deadly, I hope,” Giordino said.

“Yes, but it’s out of reach,” Maguire said. “All the serious stuff is performed in the buildings beyond our access. We’re just the grunts. We load and off-load the ships and run the millhouse. You hoping to play with matches?”

“Something on that order.”

“You might as well forget about it. Brown and I considered it for weeks, but we’ve seen too many good men die in the attempt. Somebody will blow the whistle on this place one of these days. We just need to hang on until it happens.”

A string of lights above their heads flashed briefly.

“Lights out in five minutes,” Maguire said. “You boys best find a place to bunk.”

He led them to a large screened room filled with rattan sleeping mats. Pitt and Giordino picked two and lay down as the room filled with men and the lights went out. Pitt ignored the discomfort of the steamy room and the hard mat as he lay in the darkness, contemplating a way out of the death camp. He drifted to sleep without an answer, not knowing his opportunity would come much sooner than he thought.

Chapter 57

57

THE LABORERS FROZE WHEN THEY HEARD THE thumping whine of a helicopter landing. Johansson’s whip immediately prompted the men back to work, purging any hopes that an armed force had arrived to set them free.

Instead it was Bolcke himself, arriving fresh from Australia, where he had set in motion the final stages for his takeover of the Mount Weld mining operation. Climbing out of the helicopter, he bypassed a waiting golf cart and strode to the dock, a pair of armed guards in tow.

A ragged group of laborers, including Pitt and Giordino, were transferring the Adelaide’s final hold of ore when Bolcke stepped onto the dock. He glanced at the slaves with disdain, briefly locking eyes with Pitt. In that instant, Pitt seemed to read into the Austrian’s psyche. He saw a joyless man, one scrubbed clean of compassion, ethics, and even a soul.

Bolcke coldly eyed the piled ore before examining the ship. He waited briefly for Gomez, who was summoned from the ship and scurried down the gangplank.

“The cargo was what we anticipated?” Bolcke asked.

“Yes, thirty thousand tons of crushed monazite ore. That’s the last of it there.” Gomez pointed at the final mound.

“Any trouble with the acquisition?”

“The shipping line sent out an added security team. We subdued them without issue.”

“Someone was expecting an attack?”

Gomez nodded. “Fortunately, they arrived after we had already seized the ship.”

A troubled look crossed Bolcke’s face. “Then we must dispose of the vessel.”

“After changing identities at sea, we entered the canal without question,” Gomez said.