cc.floodtide-第18节

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retched　off　into　the　distance　with　doors　on　either　side。
　
　He　moved　to　the　first　door　that　was　slightly　ajar。　A　glance　from　a　wary　eye　through　the　crack　revealed　a　low　bed　occupied　by　a　sleeping　man　wearing　a　skullcap。　There　was　a　closet　with　hanging　clothes；　a　dresser　with　several　small　drawers；　a　nightstand　and　lamp。　One　rack　on　a　wall　held　a　variety　of　weapons：　a　sniper's　rifle　with　a　scope；　two　different　automatic　rifles　and　four　automatic　pistols　of　different　calibers。　Pitt　quickly　realized　that　he　had　walked　into　the　lions'　den。　This　was　the　living　quarters　for　the　security　guards。
　
　Voices　came　from　another　room　farther　down　the　corridor　along　with　the　pungent　aroma　of　incense。　He　dropped　prone　and　sneaked　a　peek　across　the　threshold　with　half　an　eye　and　nose　he　hoped　would　not　be　as　obvious　low　to　the　floor。　Four　Asians　were　seated　around　a　table　playing　dominoes。　Their　conversation　was　unintelligible　to　Pitt。　To　his　untrained　ear　the　Mandarin　dialect　sounded　like　a　fast　pitch　by　a　used…car　dealer　in　a　television　mercial　that　was　speeded　up　and　played　backward。　Through　the　doors　of　other　rooms　he　could　hear　the　strange；　twangy　sounds　that　Orientals　call　music。
　
　It　seemed　like　a　good　idea　to　move　out　of　the　area　quickly。　There　was　no　way　of　telling　when　one　of　the　unsuspecting　guards　might　happen　to　step　into　the　corridor　and　demand　to　know　why　a　Caucasian　was　slinking　around　outside　his　bedroom。　Pitt　moved　on　until　he　found　an　iron　spiral　staircase。　Still　no　shouts　of　discovery；　no　gunshots；　no　sirens　or　alarm　bells。　He　was　more　than　happy　to　find　that　Shang's　security　people　were　less　concerned　about　trespassers　on　the　inside　than　on　the　outside。
　
　The　staircase　rose　past　two　levels　that　were　empty；　great　open　areas　with　no　interior　walls。　They　appeared　to　Pitt　as　if　the　contractor　and　his　workers　had　walked　off　the　job　before　it　was　pleted。　He　finally　reached　the　top　landing　and　stopped　at　a　massive　steel　door　that　looked　like　it　came　off　a　bank　vault。　There　was　no　time　or　bination　lock；　only　a　thick　horizontal　handle。　He　stood　there　for　a　solid　minute；　listening　intently　but　hearing　nothing　while　pushing　down　on　the　handle　with　firm　but　gentle　pressure。　Sweat　poured　from　his　body　beneath　the　dry　suit。　Swimming　back　to　the　cabin　in　the　frigid　water　of　the　lake　began　to　sound　good　to　him。　He　decided　that　one　quick　look　inside　the　main　house　and　he　was　out　of　there。
　
　The　shafts　slid　smoothly　and　silently　out　of　their　slots。　Pitt　hesitated　for　several　moments　before　he　began；　ever　so　delicately　at　first；　to　pull　open　the　massive　door。　Soon　he　had　to　exert　most　of　his　strength　until　it　cracked　enough　to　see　beyond。　What　he　saw　was　another　door；　but　this　one　had　bars。　No　cat　burglar　could　have　been　half　as　surprised　to　find　the　house　he　came　to　rob　of　precious　jewels　and　valuables　was　a　maximum…security　prison。
　
　This　was　no　elegant　estate　built　by　a　man　with　unusual　taste　in　architecture。　This　had　no　correlation　to　an　estate　at　all。　The　entire　interior　of　Shang's　huge　house　was　a　cell　block　straight　out　of　Alcatraz。　The　revelation　struck　Pitt　like　a　blow　to　the　head　by　a　meteor。　The　retreat　built　to　entertain　Shang's　clients　and　business　associates　was　a　facade；　he　realized；　a　damned　facade。　The　maid　who　played　at　making　up　rooms　with　no　furniture；　the　two　golfers　who　played　for　all　eternity…they　were　all　frosted　figures　on　a　cake。　The　security　that　was　carried　to　extremes　was　designed　to　keep　captives　in　rather　than　intruders　out。　It　now　became　obvious　that　the　copper…tinted　solar　glass　panes　were　backed　by　reinforced　concrete　walls。
　
　Three　tiers　of　jail　cells　faced　an　open　square　with　a　cage　mounted　on　columns　in　the　center。　Inside　the　cage；　two　guards　in　gray；　unmarked　uniforms　monitored　a　bank　of　video　screens。　The　upper　walkways　that　passed　by　the　cells　were　shielded　from　the　open　square　by　mesh　screens。　The　cell　doors　were　solid　except　for　peepholes　barely　large　enough　to　insert　a　small　plate　of　food　and　a　cup　of　water。　The　most　hardened　incarcerated　criminal　would　have　had　a　tough　time　figuring　an　escape　route　out　of　this　place。
　
　There　was　no　way　for　Pitt　to　tell　how　many　poor　souls　were　locked　behind　the　doors。　Nor　could　he　guess　who　they　were　or　what　offense　they　had　mitted　against　Shang。　Recalling　the　AUV's　video　of　the　sickening　spectacle　on　the　lake　bed；　he　began　to　grasp　that　instead　of　staring　at　a　penal　colony　he　was　staring　at　one　huge　death　row。
　
　Pitt　felt　a　cold　chill；　but　sweat　was　trickling　down　his　face　hi　streams。　He　had　overstayed　his　wele。　It　was　time　to　head　home　and　blow　the　whistle。　Very　carefully；　he　pushed　the　steel　door　closed　and　locked　it　in　place。　Lucky；　lucky；　he　thought。　Only　the　inside　door　with　the　bars　was　wired　to　sound　an　alarm　when　opened　without　permission　by　the　guards　at　the　security　monitors。　He　was　on　the　fourth　step　going　down　when　he　heard　footsteps　ing　up。
　
　There　were　two　of　them；　no　doubt　a　change　of　a　shift　for　the　men　monitoring　the　video　surveillance　around　the　outer　grounds　and　inside　the　prison　cells。　Neither　had　call　to　be　apprehensive　or　suspicious　of　intruders。　They　casually　moved　up　the　stairs　chatting　to　each　other；　and　due　to　the　human　habit　of　watching　one's　feet　when　climbing　a　staircase；　neither　looked　up　and　spied　Pitt。　Their　only　weapons　were　automatic　pistols　firmly　clipped　in　their　holsters。
　
　Pitt　had　to　move　fast　if　he　wanted　the　advantage　of　surprise；　and　he　used　it　to　the　hilt。　Foolhardy　or　not；　he　rushed　down　the　stairs　and　leaped；　crashing　into　the　lead　guard　before　he　literally　knew　what　hit　him　and　throwing　him　backward　into　his　friend。
　
　Accustomed　to　cowering　and　frightened　captives；　the　two　Chinese　guards　were　petrified　with　shock　at　being　attacked　by　a　reckless　crazy　man　in　a　rubber　suit　whose　body　was　considerably　larger　than　either　of　theirs。　Both　men；　caught　off　balance；　stumbled　and　fell　backward；　arms　and　legs　flailing；　locked　together　back　to　chest。　Pitt　piled　on　the　man　on　the　top　and　rode　them　down　the　steps　to　the　second　landing　before　they　all　crumpled　against　a　railing。　The　bottom　man　struck　his　head　on　a　step　and　was　immediately　knocked　unconscious。　His　friend；　less　injured　but　stunned　with　surprise；　snatched　feverishly　at　his　bolstered　automatic。
　
　Pitt　could　have　killed　him；　could　have　killed　them　both；　by　shooting　a　pair　of　barbs　through　their　heads。　But　he　settled　for　gripping　the　air　gun　by　the　barrel　and　clubbing　the　guard　on　the　side　of　the　head　with　the　butt。　He　didn't　doubt　for　an　instant　that　if　their　positions　were　reversed；　they'd　have　had　no　misgivings　whatsoever　about　blowing　his　brains　out。
　
　He　dragged　them　into　the　vacant　second　level　and　propped　them　against　the　far　wall　in　the　shadows。　He　tore　off　their　uniforms　and　ripped　them　into　strips。　Then　he　bound　their　hands　and　legs；　and　gagged　them。　If；　as　he　suspected；　they　were　on　their　way　to　work；　they'd　be　missed　in　less　than　five　or　ten　minutes　at　the　most。　Once　they　were　found　knocked　unconscious　and　bound　with　shreds　of　their　uniforms；　all　hell　would　erupt　when　an　intrusion　was　reported　to　Shang　or　his　murder　advisory　board。　Once　they　became　aware　their　security　had　been　penetrated　by　an　unknown　force；　there　was　no　second…guessing　the　consequences。　He　didn't　want　to　think　about　what　might　happen　to　the　unfortunates　still　locked　in　the　cells　if　it　was　decided　all　evidence　to　whatever　was　going　on　had　to　be　destroyed　and　all　eyewitnesses　killed。　If　the　bodies　on　the　bottom　of　the　lake　were　any　indication；　whatever　this　bunch　of　　slime　lacked；　it　certainly　wasn't　a　willingness　to　murder　by　the　numbers。
　
　Pitt　crept　back　through　the　corridor　of　the　guards'　living　quarters　with　the　finesse　of　Don　Juan　flitting　out　of　a　lady's　bedroom。　The　luck　he　had　of　not　being　seen　going　in　carried　with　him　going　out。　He　reached　the　passageway　to　the　boat…house　and　hurried　through　as　best　he　could　without　scraping　the　shoulders　of　his　dry　suit　to　shreds。　Not　in　the　mood　for　an　exciting　pursuit　by　incensed　Chinese　with　lethal　weapons；　he　briefly　considered　working　over　the　motors　of　the　watercraft；　but　thought　better　of　wasting　the　time。　If　they　couldn't　find　the　AUV　in　broad　daylight；　they　would　never　find　him　thirty　feet　underwater　in　the　dark。
　
　After　hurriedly　putting　on　his　dive　gear；　he　dropped　into　the　water；　swam　around　the　dock　and　retrieved　the　Stingray。　Pitt　hadn't　traveled　a　hundred　yards　along　the　lake　bed　when　he　heard　the　throb　of　an　engine　exhaust　and　the　beat　of　propellers　from　a　boat　ing　out　of　the　darkness　in　the　distance。　The　sound　carried　through　the　water　faster　than　the　air；　making　it　seem　as　if　the　boat　was　almost　on　top　of　him　when　in　fact　it　was　just　ing　off　the　river　outlet　onto　the　lake。　Inclining　the　Stingray；　he　let　its　thrust　pull　him　to　the　surface。　He　spotted　the　boat　as　it　moved　out　of　the　shadows　and　became　illuminated　under　the　lights　from　shore。　He　identified　the　approaching　vessel　as　the　black　catamaran　he'd　observed　the　day　before。
　
　He　figured　that　unless　one　of　the　boat's　crew　ate　a　bushel　of　carrots　every　day　and　took　large　doses　of　vitamin　A　for　acute　night　vision；　their　chances　of　picking　out　a　nearly　invisible　head　on　dark　waters　were　unlikely。　Then　suddenly；