There were a dozen other men and similarly dressed women. They were having a light snack and were drinking champagne.
"Ah, Monsieur Carter. Welcome aboard," Governor Rondine boomed jovially.
One of the helicopter crewmen had gone out on deck. He came back with a nylon-webbed deck chair and placed it in the middle of the salon, in front of the governor and his guests.
"You know, I kept asking myself who you were and what you were," the governor said. He waved his hand. "Oh, we knew that you were an investigator sent from Washington. Like the others. But you…" he hesitated. "You were different. You caused us much pain."
The crewman had cut away the webbing from the chair's seat.
"The colonel is most unhappy. I'm told that Peking is not happy. You have created a very large problem for us. One, really, that has no solution."
The governor nodded, and several of the ship's crew crowded into the salon and forcibly shoved Carter into the chair, tied him in place, and then stepped aside.
"But I asked myself," the governor continued, "what was it I needed to help alleviate the situation… salve the wound, so to speak."
Gabrielle looked very uncomfortable, but most of the other guests seemed to be enjoying this.
"I told myself that I would need information. Who you are, who you work for, and just how you found out about the operations center on Natu Faui. With such information I would have at least something to offer the colonel."
Again the governor nodded. One of the crewmen flipped out a straight razor and came to Carter's side, where he quickly and efficiently cut off Carter's shirt and then his trousers, pulling the rags away from his body until he was seated completely nude, his rear end and testicles exposed by the bottomless chair.
A couple of the women tittered as the crewman put away his blade and stepped aside.
"He dallied with my wife. Most unfortunate… for Monsieur Carter," the governor said, and again he nodded.
The crewman went over to a sideboard where the food had been set up.
"Your island kingdom is gone, and you expect the Communists to give you another. Is that it?" Carter asked.
The governor smiled. "He speaks. There is some hope for the poor devil."
Carter could not see what the crewman was doing at the sideboard. But he could feel the sweat running down his chest.
"How far do you expect to get in this toy? Our submarine is still…"
"Is a thousand miles from here. There will be no rescue, Monsieur Carter. You will be tortured until you give us the information we require. And then, mercifully, I will kill you."
The crewman at the sideboard turned around. He was holding the fire ring from a chafing dish. He brought it over and set it beneath Carter, then lit the alcohol flame.
Almost immediately Carter could feel the heat on his anus and testicles. He tried to lift himself up, but he could not move more than an inch or so. He started to scoot the chair to one side, but two of the crewmen grabbed the back of the chair and held him in place.
The heat rose.
"Take it away and I'll tell you what you want to know," Carter said, the pain already beginning.
The governor chuckled. "Yes, I think I will do just that, Monsieur Carter." He turned to Gabrielle. "But first, my dear, would you pour me a glass of champagne?"
The pain was rising sharply. Every muscle in Carter's body was straining.
Gabrielle jumped up and looked wildly from Carter to her husband.
"Albert," she said.
Carter could feel a scream building in his chest and rising up his throat.
Rondine laughed. He held out his champagne glass.
"Albert!" Gabrielle screamed.
A moan escaped Carter's lips.
Gabrielle turned, raced to Carter, and kicked the alcohol burner away, then spun back and grabbed the champagne glass from her husband's hand.
The governor was laughing out loud now. "Touching," he said, choking. "Very touching."
Gabrielle broke the champagne glass on the edge of the coffee table, then leaped forward, plunging the ragged glass edge into Rondine's throat, opening a jagged wound that spurted blood. Someone screamed as she viciously jabbed again, this time using the glass as a saw, severing the artery on the left side of his neck before one of the crewmen pulled her off and shoved her aside.
"Mon Dieu!" one of the crewmen cried.
"The doctor!" another one shouted.
Through a haze of pain, Carter watched as Rondine thrashed and kicked, his blood pumping everywhere as he tore at his throat with his hands, a terrible, choking sound coming from his mouth.
The guests had ail jumped up and moved toward the doorway to the aft deck. One of the men was vomiting. The women were screaming and crying.
Gabrielle had scooped up a large.357 magnum pistol from where it evidently had been stuffed beneath one of the cushions beside the governor, and she waved it around.
"Everyone out of here!" she screamed.
The governor gave one final gasp, looked up at his wife, then rolled over and lay still in a huge puddle of his own blood.
"Everyone out of here!" she screamed again. "He is dead! It is all over!"
She fired a shot, high. It smacked into the doorframe above the guests' heads.
The women screamed again, and everyone crowded through the door.
"Have the captain make the boat ready!" she cried after them. "You are leaving here."
She came to Carter's side, the tears welling in her eyes as she untied him.
"Can you walk?" she asked.
Carter's stomach was heaving, and the pain below was unspeakable, but his head was clear, and he managed to stand.
He took the.357 from her. "We'll stay aboard. Radio for help." Talking was an effort.
She shook her head wildly. "There is a bomb," she whispered. "I put a bomb in the engine room. This boat will explode tonight at midnight. Everyone aboard will be killed."
"How…"Carter began.
"It was meant for you in the hotel or at the base. The colonel gave it to me."
Carter tried to make his mind work. They would be stranded here on this island. The little motor launches wouldn't get them very far. But then he remembered the helicopter. He had flown one before when absolutely necessary, and there would be a radio aboard so that they could signal for help.
He stumbled across the salon to the door as the ship's diesels came to life. Several crewmen were working to bring both motor launches aboard.
Carter stepped out on deck. "Stand back," he shouted. They looked around.
Someone came out of the bridge above. Carter looked up at him. He had a rifle.
"We'll cause you no trouble," Carter said. "We want to get off here. You can take this boat anywhere you want. It'll be days before we'll be found. It'll give you plenty of time."
For a long second or two no one moved or said a thing. Finally the man on the bridge deck put up his rifle.
"Let them go," he said.
"No!" the big Frenchman with the broken wrist suddenly shouted from the starboard deck.
Carter spun around, bringing up the.357 as the man charged. He fired one shot, catching Claude in the chest and sending him backward, his body flipping over the rail and into the river.
Gabrielle emerged from the salon. She carried a first aid kit, some clothing, and a duffle bag with something heavy in it.
Carefully the) made their way across the aft deck, then down the boarding ladder into the second motor launch.
Gabrielle undid the line as Carter started the motor, and they were off. Soon the Mariposa's anchor began to come up.
Epilogue
They heard the explosion far to the northwest at around midnight from where they were camped near the helicopter.
Carter's burns were more painful than they were serious. It would be weeks, perhaps months, before he would feel completely normal. But Gabrielle assured him that nothing had been permanently damaged.