The punch nearly knocked Pitt out, but he remained alert enough to see the coiled whip tighten around Johansson’s neck and jerk him upward. As he flailed to break free, the huge toothed wheel carried the Swede up onto its rotating surface. A hoarse scream passed from Johansson’s lips as he was dragged by the neck to the machine’s opposite side.

At its base, the external gear engaged with the flywheel from the ball mill’s 800-horsepower motor. Johansson fought to escape, but was pulled into the rotating gears. The meshing metal teeth chewing through the leather whip and then into the flesh of the overseer’s neck. His screaming ended, and the rotating gear spit a thin line of red across the room. The machine bucked and slowed a moment, then revved back up to speed. Beneath the gears, a pool of blood spread across the floor from Johansson’s decapitated body.

Pitt climbed to his feet. The guard at the other end of the mill had finally taken notice and began running toward him.

“You really gunked up the works this time,” Giordino said, grinning despite his pain.

“Thanks for the assist.” Pitt moved quickly toward him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but the leg’s leaking again. You better take a solo run.”

The guard was now yelling at Pitt while attempting to draw his weapon.

Pitt nodded at his friend. “I’ll be back.” He dove under the conveyor belt as a burst of gunfire echoed through the building. Giordino casually tossed some crushed ore across the floor when the guard rushed after Pitt. His eyes focused on his quarry, the guard slipped on the ore and fell halfway to the floor.

Pitt used the opportunity to spring from the opposite side of the conveyor and dash out the end of the building.

A late spray of gunfire followed him as he cut around the corner and ducked into some nearby foliage. Trapped on the five-acre island, he had no illusion about being able to remain concealed for long. The gunfire had already attracted the attention of several nearby guards.

Pitt needled his way through the brush, using its cover to move well clear of the millhouse. The pursuing guard exited the building too late to see him and was forced to sweep the area slowly as he called in support.

Pitt angled through the bush until he reached the cart path. Then he sprinted toward the dock as fast as his weakened legs would carry him. The path soon opened onto the dock and the remaining pile of ore. Plugrad and a few of his men were shoveling their way through the pile.