“Speak English,” Diego said, and jammed the gun harder. The guard caught his breath. “The lake,” he gasped. “In the lake.” Diego smiled. "Even a pig wants to keep his cojones he said. He removed the gun, turned it around and slammed the butt down. There was a sickening hollow sound, and the guard's head lolled like that of the doll still clutched in Austin's hand.

Austin flinched, but he had no sympathy for the guard. He was too busy pondering the frightful possibilities for the prisoners. “Sweet dreams,” he said with a shrug. “Lead the way,” Pablo said.

“Since we're slightly outnumbered, this may be a good time to call in the reserves,” Zavala said.

Pablo undipped the radio from his belt and ordered the SeaCo- bra pilot to hover a mile away. Austin tucked the doll inside his shirt. Then, with the others following, he hurried in the direction of the lake, determined to return the doll to its rightful owner.

NUMA 4 - White Death

35

WHEN THE GUARDS had burst into the garage prison brandishing truncheons, Marcus Ryan was huddled with Jesse Nighthawk. He had been probing the Indian's knowledge of the forest so that he could put together an escape plan. Ryan's hopes were dashed as the guards, at least two dozen of them, clubbed the pris- oners at random. Most of the Indians were used to the sporadic beat- ings aimed to discourage resistance, and they cowered against the far wall. But Ryan was slow to move, and blows rained down on his shoulders and head.

Therri had been playing with a little girl named Rachael, when the door burst open and the makeshift prison was suddenly filled with shouts and swinging clubs. Rachael was about five years old, the youngest child in the group, and like many of the villagers, she was part of Ben's extended family. Therri stepped between one of the at- tackers and the little girl, and braced herself for the blow to come. The guard froze, confused at the unexpected show of defiance. Then he laughed and lowered his upraised club. He glared at Therri with pitiless eyes. “For that, you and the girl will go first.”

He called out to one of his companions, who grabbed Therri by the hair. She was pushed facedown onto the floor, and a club was pressed across the back of her neck. Her hands were bound behind her back with wire that cut painfully into her wrists. Then she was pulled to her feet and saw Marcus and Chuck, whose heads were bloodied from the club blows.

When all the prisoners had been trussed like hogs, the guards herded them through the doorway and marched them through the woods. They walked through the woods for several minutes, until the dull sheen of the lake was visible through the trees. Although it seemed like several days, only a few hours had passed since they had been captured.