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At last the elevator settled to a stop and the door parted。 The Cubans poured out into an operations room staffed by nearly twenty Soviet GRU officers and four women who were also in uniform。 Most died behind their desks in a hail of gunfire； dying in dazed disbelief。 In a few seconds the office resembled a charnel house with blood and tissue sprayed everywhere。
Pitt took no time to see more。 He punched the Level I button on the panel and rose alone in the elevator to Velikov's study。 Pressing his back against the front wall； weapon in the raised position； he stole one quick glance around the opening doors。 The sight inside the study struck him with a mixed force of elation and savage anger。
Seven GRU officers were sitting in a semicircle； watching in rapt fascination as Foss Gly performed his sadistic act。 They seemed oblivious to the muted thump of gunfire from the level below； their senses deadened； Pitt concluded； by the emptied contents of several wine bottles。
Rudi Gunn lay off to one side； his face nearly battered into pulp； trying desperately out of some burning pride to hold up his head in contempt。 One officer held a small automatic pistol on a bleeding Al Giordino who was tied in a metal chair。 The brawny little Italian sagged forward with his head almost on his knees； shaking it slowly from side to side as if to clear his vision and rid himself of the pain。 One of the men lifted his leg and kicked Giordino in the side； knocking him and the chair sideways to the floor。 Raymond LeBaron sat beside and slightly behind Gly。 The once dynamic financier had the look of a man who was worn to a shadow； his spirit torn from his body。 The eyes were sightless； the face expressionless。 Gly had pressured and twisted him into a decaying vegetable。
Jessie LeBaron knelt in the center of the room； staring at Gly in defiance。 Her hair had been crudely lopped short。 She clutched a blanket around her shoulders。 Ugly red welts and dark bruises covered her exposed legs and arms。 She looked to be beyond suffering； her mind deadened to any further pain。 Despite her pitiful appearance she was incredibly beautiful； with a serenity and poise that were remarkable。
Foss and the other men turned at the arrival of the elevator； but seeing that it was apparently empty； they turned back to their sport。
Just as the doors began to close Pitt stepped into the room with an almost inhuman icy calm； his AK…74 held at eye level； the muzzle erupting fire。
His first carefully aimed shots took the man who had kicked Giordino onto the floor。 The second blast struck the chest of the bemedaled officer seated next to Gunn； pitching him backward into a bookcase。 The third and fourth bursts swept away three men sitting in a tight group。 He was swinging the gun barrel in an arc； lining up on Foss Gly； but the massively built turncoat reacted more quickly than the others。
Gly yanked Jessie to her feet 'and held her in front of him as a shield。 Pitt delayed just long enough for the seventh Russian； who was sitting almost at his elbows； to unholster an automatic pistol and snap off a wild shot。
The bullet struck the breech of Pitt's gun； shattered it； and then ricocheted into the ceiling。 Pitt raised the useless weapon and sprang at the same moment he saw the muzzle flash from the second shot。 Everything seemed to slow down。 Even the frightened expression on the Russian's face as he squeezed the trigger for the third time； but the blast never came。 The frame of the AK…74 sliced the air and caved the side of his head in。
At first Pitt thought the second bullet had missed； but then he felt the blood dripping down his neck from the nick taken out of his left ear。 He stood there rooted； his fury still burning as Gly rudely shoved Jessie sprawling on the carpet。
A satanic grin spread across Gly's evil face along with an expression of unholy expectation。 〃You came back。〃
〃Very perceptive for a cretin； that is。〃
〃I promised you would die slowly when we met again；〃 said Gly menacingly。 〃Have you forgotten？〃
〃No； I didn't forget；〃 said Pitt。 〃I even remembered to bring a big club。〃
Pitt had no doubts that Gly meant to crush the life out of him with his massive hands。 And he knew that his only real advantage； besides the bat； was a total lack of fear。 Gly was used to seeing his victims helpless and naked； intimidated by his brute strength。 Pitt's lips matched the satanic grin； and he began to stalk Gly； observing with cold satisfaction the look of confusion in his opponent's eyes。
Pitt went into a baseball crouch and swung the bat； aiming for a low pitch； and struck Gly in the knee。 The blow smashed Gly's kneecap and he grunted in pain but didn't go down。 He recovered in the blink of an eye and lurched at Pitt； receiving a blow in the ribs that knocked the breath from his body with an agonized gasp。 For a moment he stood still warily watching Pitt； feeling the broken ribs； sucking painful intakes of air。
Pitt stepped back and lowered the bat。 〃Does the name Brian Shaw do anything for you？〃 he asked calmly。
The twisted look of hate slowly changed to puzzlement。 〃The British agent？ You knew him？〃
〃Six months ago； I saved his life on a tugboat in the Saint Lawrence River。 Remember？ You were crushing him to death when I came up from behind and brained you with a wrench。〃
Pitt relished the savage glare in Gly's eyes。
〃That was you？〃
〃A final thought to take with you；〃 Pitt said； smiling fiendishly。
〃The confession of a dead man。〃 There was no contempt； no insolence in Gly's voice； just simple belief。
Without another word the two men began circling each other like a pair of wolves； Pitt with the bat raised； Gly dragging his injured leg。 An eerie quiet settled over the room。 Gunn struggled through a sea of pain to reach the fallen automatic pistol； but Gly caught the movement out of the corner of one eye and kicked the gun aside。 Still tied to the chair； Giordino struggled weakly against his bonds in helpless frustration； while Jessie lay rigid； staring in morbid fascination。
Pitt took a step forward and was in the act of swinging when one foot slipped in the blood of a slain Russian。 The bat should have caught Gly on the side of his head； but the arc was thrown off by six inches。 On reflex Gly threw up his arm and absorbed the impact with king…size biceps。
The wooden shaft quivered in Pitt's hands as if he had struck it against a car bumper。 Gly lashed out with his free hand； grabbed the end of the bat； and heaved like a weightlifter。 Pitt gripped the handle for dear life as he was lifted into the air like a small child and slung halfway across the room against a wall of bookshelves； where he crashed to the floor amid an avalanche of leather…bound volumes。
Sadly； despairingly； Jessie and the others knew Pitt could never shake off the jarring collision with the wall。 Even Gly relaxed and took his time about approaching the body on the floor； triumph fairly glowing on his gargoyle face； lips spread in sharkish anticipation of the extermination to e。
Then Gly stopped and stared incredulous as Pitt rose up from under a mountain of books like a quarterback who had been sacked； dazed； and slightly disoriented but ready for the next play。 What Pitt knew； and no one else 'realized； was that the books had cushioned his impact。 He hurt like hell but suffered no crippling damage to flesh and bone。 Lifting the bat he moved to meet the advancing iron man； and rammed the blunt end with all his strength into the sneering face。
But he misjudged the giant's unholy strength。 Gly side…stepped and met the bat with his fist； knocking it aside and taking advantage of Pitt's forward momentum to clench iron arms around his back。 Pitt twisted violently and brought his knee up into Gly's groin； a savage blow that would have doubled over any other man。 But not Gly。 He gave a slight gasp； blinked； and then increased the pressure in a vicious bear hug that would crush the life out of Pitt。
Gly stared unblinking into Pitt's eyes from a distance of four inches。 There wasn't the slightest display of physical exertion on his face。 The only expression was the sneer that was locked in place。 He lifted Pitt from his feet and kept squeezing； anticipating the contorted terror that would spread across his victim's face just before the end。
The air was choked off from Pitt's lungs and he gasped for breath。 The room began to blur as the pain inside his chest ruptured into flaming agony。 He could hear Jessie screaming； Giordino shouting something； but he couldn't distinguish the words。 Through the pain his mind remained curiously sharp and clear。 He refused to accept death and coldly devised a simple way to cheat it。
One arm was free； while the other； the one still clutching the baseball bat； was caught in Gly's relentless grip。 The black curtain was beginning to drop over his eyes for the last time； and he realized death was only seconds away when he performed his last desperate act。
He brought up his hand until it was even with Gly's face and thrust the full length of the thumb into one eye； driving inward through the skull and twisting deeply into the brain。
Shock