And we have plenty of extra rigging from the sailboat for shrouds and to lash outriggers to the center hull."
"How long will it take us to build your trimaran?" asked Maeve, doubt becoming replaced by growing interest.
I figure we can knock together a vessel and shove oft in three days if we put in long hours."
"That soon?"
"The construction is not complicated, and thanks to Rodney York, we have the tools to complete the job."
"Do we continue sailing east or head northeast for Invercargill?" asked Giordino.
Pitt shook his head. "Neither. With Rodney's navigational instruments and Admiralty charts, I see no reason why I can't lay a reasonably accurate course for Gladiator Island."
Maeve looked at him as if he had turned mad, her hands hanging limply at her sides. "That," she said in bewilderment, "is the craziest notion you've come up with yet."
"May be," he said, his eyes set and fixed. "But I think it only appropriate that we finish what we set out to do . . . rescue your boys."
"Sounds good to me," Giordino put in without hesitation. "I'd like a rematch with King Kong, or whatever your sister calls herself when she isn't crushing car bodies at a salvage yard."
"I'm indebted to you enough as it is. But--"
"No buts," said Pitt. "As far as we're concerned it's a done deal. We build our hermaphrodite boat, sail it to Gladiator Island, snatch your boys and escape to the nearest port of safety."
"Escape to safety! Can't you understand?" Her voice was imploring, almost despairing. "Ninety percent of the island is surrounded by vertical cliffs and precipices impossible to climb. The only landing area is the beach circling the lagoon, and it's heavily guarded. No one can cross through the reef without being shot. My father has built security defenses a well-armed assault force couldn't penetrate. If you attempt it, you will surely die."
"Nothing to be alarmed about," Pitt said subtly. " AI and I flit on and off islands with the same finesse as we do in and out of ladies' bedrooms. It's all in selecting the right time and spot."
"That and a lot of wrist action," Giordino added.
"Father's patrol boats will spot you long before you can enter the lagoon."
Pitt shrugged. "Not to worry. I have a homespun remedy for dodging nasty old patrol boats that never fails."
"And dare I ask what it is?"
"Simple. We drop in where they least expect us."
"Both your brains were boiled by the sun." She shook her head in defeat. "Do you expect Daddy to ask us in for tea?" Maeve had one remorseful moment of guilt. She saw clearly that she was responsible for the terrible dangers and torment inflicted on these two incredible men who were willing to give up their lives for her twin sons, Michael and Sean. She felt a wave of despondency sweep over her that quickly turned to resignation. She came over and knelt between Pitt and Giordino, placing an arm around each of their necks. "Thank you," she murmured softly. "How could I be so lucky as to find men as wonderful as you?"
"We make a habit of helping maidens in distress." Giordino saw the tears welling in her eyes and turned away, genuinely embarrassed.
Pitt kissed Maeve on the forehead. "It's not as impossible as it sounds. Trust me."
"If only I had met you what seems like a hundred years ago," she whispered with a catch in her voice.
She looked as if she were about to say more, rose to her feet and quickly walked away to be by herself.
Giordino stared at Pitt curiously. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Do you mind sharing how we're going to get on and off the island once we arrive offshore?"
"We get on with a kite and a grappling hook I found among York's gear."
"And off again?" Giordino prompted, totally confused but unwilling to pursue the subject.
Pitt threw a dried beech log on the fire and watched the sparks swirl upward. "That," he said, as relaxed as a boy waiting for his bobber to sink at a fishing hole, "that part of the plan I'll worry about when the time comes."
Their vessel to escape the island was built on a flat section of rock in a small valley protected from the breeze, thirty meters from the water. They laid out rail-like ways of beech logs to slide their weird creation into the relatively calm waters between the two islands. The demands were not cruel or exacting.
They were in better condition than when they arrived and found themselves able to work through the nights, when the atmosphere was coldest, and rest for a few hours during the heat of the day, For the most part, construction went smoothly without major setbacks. The closer they got to completion, the more their fatigue fell away.