The woman left the storeroom to herd other passengers topside so they could board the containership's boats. Alone, Kelly stiffly rose to her feet, her back aching from sitting on the hard deck. She was almost to the doorway when suddenly she was stopped by a large man. She hesitated, looked up and found herself staring into the icy features of the red-haired man who had struggled with her father on the cruise ship. He stepped inside the storeroom and slowly closed the door.

"What do you want?" she whispered fearfully.

"Your father's case," he answered in a deep, quiet voice. "You won't be hurt if you hand it over. Otherwise, I will have to kill you."

Kelly could see resolve in the cold, dead, black eyes. And something else: The man was going to kill her whether she gave him the case or not.

"My father's papers? What do you want with them?"

He shrugged. "I'm only a hired man. My job is to deliver the case and its contents, that's all."

"Deliver to whom . . . ?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, his voice turning impatient.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Kelly asked, desperately stalling for every second of life.

"I don't use guns and I don't use knives." He held up his hands, huge and callused, and grinned. "These are all I need."

She felt panic stab her, and started to back away from him. He moved toward her and she could see the white teeth beneath the red mustache as his lips widened in a malevolent grin. His eyes had the smug gleam of an animal who has his quarry trapped and helpless. Her panic turned to terror, her heart began to pound, her breath to come in gasps. Her legs felt weak and they tottered beneath her. Her long hair streaked across her eyes and face, and the tears involuntarily began to flow.

His arms reached out, the hands like claws, and clutched her. She screamed, a high shrill cry that reverberated in the small storeroom with its steel bulkheads. She tore out of his grasp and spun around. It was as if he deliberately let her go so he could play with her as a cat toys with a mouse before devouring it. Unable to resist, she began to feel faint, and crumpled to the deck, crouched in one corner of the storeroom, shuddering uncontrollably.

She could only stare at him through huge, glazed blue eyes as he stepped slowly toward her. He bent over, took her under the arms and lifted her up in one effortless motion. The cold, murderous expression had been replaced by a leer of lust. As if in slow motion, he pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes flew wide and she tried to scream again, but all that came out were muffled sobs. Then he pulled back and grinned again.

"Yes," he said, in a voice that was hard and indifferent. "Scream all you wish. No one can hear you above the storm outside. I like it when a woman screams. I find it exhilarating."