Ross stood cautiously against the wall of his darkened room, his head turned toward the slightly open door. A slight shuffling sound had awakened him, and he was now as ready as a cat before her spring. But he did not hurl himself at the figure now easing the door farther open. He waited until the visitor was approaching the bunk before he slid along the wall, closing the door and putting his shoulders against it.
“What’s the pitch?” Ross demanded in a whisper.
There was a ragged breath, maybe two, then a little laugh out of the dark. “You are ready?” The visitor’s accent left no doubt as to his identity. Kurt was paying him the promised visit.
“Did you think that I wouldn’t be?”
“No.” The dim figure sat without invitation on the edge of the bunk. “I would not be here otherwise, Murdoc
