The Prince Of Kuching 49 On The Tower

The room appeared to be the crew members' mess hall. Amid the long white tables, there sat about a dozen employees, most of them still wearing their hardhats, their work clothes showing the everyday grime of a driller. They were all sitting in close proximity to each other, and were all staring in the same direction at a female figure pacing near the double doors that lead to the galley.

The cold eyes of Ani pa.s.sed over the huddled group as she moved past them. She was dressed in black fatigues and carried a SIG 553 snub-nosed a.s.sault rifle in one hand, its dark, squat shape somehow more menacing than a more standard weapon. She was talking to someone using an ear mike, but Rickie was unable to hear what was being said.

Instead, he quickly glanced through the room and noted that this was only part of the entire complement of personnel on the structure. Maybe some of them had escaped and were. John, her partner, was nowhere in sight, but there wasn't anything he could do about that for now.

The important thing right now was to get those individuals away from that woman, and do what he could to prevent anything from happening to the drill.

Rickie pulled away from the frightening scene and thought about how he could create a diversion. He warily opened the exterior door to the galley and went inside. He looked around for some type of weapon or useful item.

The gleaming stainless steel utensils and pots stacked on various metal open-weave shelves reflected the light trickling from the mess hall doors, but did little to inspire him. He glanced around the perimeter of the room, but ended back at the shelves. After staring at them for a moment, Rickie thought of an idea to possibly create a diversion; that was all he was able to do to a.s.sist them.

He hoped the crew members would be able to take advantage of his efforts and escape.

Pulling several ap.r.o.ns off the hooks near the sinks, he used a paring knife to cut the ap.r.o.ns in half, and then he knotted them together. Tucking the knife into his boot, Rickie tied one end of his makes.h.i.+ft rope to an upper shelf. He played out the fabric until it stretched towards the outside door.

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Taking a deep breath, Rickie pulled with all his might, and heard a cacophony of sound as the shelf and all the cookware crashed to the floor. He ran out the galley door back into the camouflaging darkness without knowing if his ploy was successful.