“Be still. If you don’t fight me, nobody will get hurt.”
The unfamiliar voice had an odd accent. The arms holding her were hard with muscle and the hand muffling her face was large and callused. Something metal-solid pressed into her side, something which might be a knife, a small handgun, or even a hypodermic syringe. She made herself go totally still. He was shorter than Mitch, shorter even than Berne. Only slightly taller than she herself was. That was a comfort, but not much.
“If I move my hand, will you yell?” She shook her head slightly. “Good, ‘cause if you do, the first person through the door will die and you’ll be next. Where did he put it?”
“Who put what?” Mari asked in a tight whisper.
“The explosives. Mitch and Rand were supposed to hide the stuff here somewhere. It wasn’t
