into the rib cage of the tall Chinese.
"Don't move, and be careful with your breathing," said Hazzard. "If I feel one tense muscle, I'll blow you in half." Chang relaxed. "Now, Mr. Chang, you do just what I say and we'll get along fine. Tell those flunkies of yours down there to haul up the anchor."
Chang looked coldly into Hazzard's eyes, the hint of a cynical smile at the corners of his mouth. He could feel the revolver pressing against his side, but Chang felt no fear. To him fear was a luxury he had lost years before. This was just another problematic situation rising for a few moments in the path of his life. He had underestimated the resourcefulness and daring of Michael Hazzard. Here facing him were the cold slate blue eyes of unrelenting determination. Eyes that held the promise of death.
Calmly Chang turned to look below him. "Take up the anchor," he called out loudly in English, then turned to stare once more into Hazzard's eyes.
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