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opening stances of Karate。
〃No； wait…〃 Pitt choked the； words off in his throat； threw back his head and spun sideways in one convulsive movement。 He had caught the tiny shift in Rondheim's eyes； the beginning of the lightning thrust as the Icelander came in with a reverse punch that connected on pitt's cheekbone； a half…solid blow that would have caused much more damage than a bruised swelling if Pitt hadn't rolled with the impact。 He reeled back two steps and stood there as if stunned； swaying dazedly to and fro as Rondheim advanced slowly； the trace of a sadistic smile in the thin； chiseled features。
Pitt had made a mistake by ducking； had almost given himself away by revealing his quick reflexes。 He had to fight to keep his mind turned on the rules。 it wasn't easy。 No normal man who knows how to take care of himself enjoys standing idle while being beaten to a pulp。 He gritted his teeth and waited； holding his body low to absorb the blows from Rondheim's next attack。 He didn't wait but a few seconds。
Rondheim scored with a roundhouse kick to the head that rammed Pitt full in the face； knocking him off the mat against a row of horizontal exercise bars set into the wall。 Pitt lay on the floor in silence； tasting the blood from his crushed lips and feeling his loosened teeth。
〃e； e； Major。〃 Rondheim spoke soothingly； tauntingly。 〃Up on your feet。 The lesson's barely begun。〃
Pitt pushed himself groggily to his feet and stumbled drunkenly onto the mat。 The urge to counterpunch Rondheim was stronger than ever now； but he knew his only course was to play out his role。
Rondheim lost no time in working on him again。 A quick bination of sledgehammer blows to the head that never seemed to end； followed by a front kick to the exposed rib area； and Pitt felt rather than heard one of his ribs snap。 As if in slow motion； Pitt sunk to his knees and slowly slumped forward onto his face； so badly injured that blood and vomit mingled freely in his mouth and flowed onto the mat in an ever…widening pool。 He didn't need a mirror to know he was being worked over fearfully； his face distorted in grotesque mutilation； both eyes rapidly closing； lips ballooned in a purplish mass of torn meat； one nostril of his nose split open。
The daggerlike pain in his chest and the agony of his torn face rose in giant waves and pounded him to the verge of blackness； yet he was surprised to find his mind was still functioning normally。 Instead of allowing the painless oblivion of unconsciousness to swoop in； he willed himself to fake it； setting his teeth against a groan that would have given his deception away。
Rondheim was infuriated。 〃I'm not through with this slimy faggot。〃 He motioned to one of the guards。
〃Revive him。〃
The one with the bald head walked to a nearby bathroom； soaked a towel and none too gently wiped the blood from Pitts face and then pressed the now reddened cloth behind his neck。 When Pitt didn't respond； the guard left again and returned with a small vial of smellin；…； salts。
Pitt coughed once； twice； then spit a gob of blood on the guard's boot； taking grim satisfaction that it was no accident。 He rolled over onto his side and looked up at Rondheim looming over him。
Rondheim laughed softly。 〃You seem to have difficulty staying awake in class； Major。 Perhaps you are being bored。〃 His voice suddenly chilled。 〃Stand up！ You have yet to finish your…ah…course of instruction。〃
〃Course？ Instruction？〃 Pitts words came blurred； semi…intelligibly through his bloated； broken lips。 〃I don't get what you mean…〃 Rondheim answered by lifting his heel and jamming it in Pitts groin。 Pitts whole body shuddered and he groaned； the agony tearing him apart。
Rondheim spat on him。 〃I said stand up！〃
〃I 。 I can't。〃
And then Rondheim leaned down and struck Pitt with a shuto blow to the back of the neck。 There was no fighting it； no faking it this time： Pitt blacked out for real。
〃Bring him around again！〃 Rondheim yelled insanely。 〃I want him on his feet。〃
The guards stared unprehendingly； even they were beginning to tire of Rondheim's bloody game。 But they had little choice except to work over Pitt like a couple of trainers over a punchdrunk boxer until he emitted the barest signs of consciousness。 It didn't take a medical specialist to determine that Pitt could have never stood unaided。 So the guards； each with one arm； held Pitt up； his body sagging between them with the dead weight of a wet bag of Portland cement。
Rondheim pounded the defenseless battered body until his gi was soaked through with sweat； the front splotched with blood。
Pitt； in those tortured moments between light and darkness； found himself losing his grip of any emotion； of all intelligence； even the pain was beginning to fade into one massive dull throb。 Thank God for the brandy； he thought。 He'd never have been able to survive up to this point； taking so much brutality from Rondheim's hands without reacting； if it hadn't been for the alcohol's numbing effects。 Now he didn't need it。 His physical resources were nearly gone； his mind was slipping from control； losing contact with reality； and the most terrible part was that he could do nothing about it。
Rondheim threw a particularly vicious and accurately aimed kick to Pitts stomach。 As the light passed from Pitts eyes for the sixth time and the guards released their grip； letting his limp body drop to the mat； the sadistic lust on Rondheim's face slowly faded。 He stared vacantly at his bloody and swollen knuckles； his chest heaving as his breath came in quick pants from the exertion。 He dropped to his knees； grabbed Pitt by the hair； turning the head so that the throat was exposed； and then he lifted his right hand； palm open； in preparation to deliver the finishing stroke； the coup de grdce； a killing judo chop that would snap Pitts head backward； breaking his neck。
〃No！〃
Rondheim kept the hand poised； and slowly turned。 Kirsti Fyrie stood in the doorway； a look of fear and horror on her face。 〃No；〃 she said； 〃please 。 。 。 no！ You can't！〃
Rondheim kept the hand poised。 〃What does he mean to you？〃
〃Nothing； but he is a human being and deserves better。 You are cruel and ruthless； Oskar。 Not altogether unbeing qualities in a man。 But they should be tempered with courage。 Beating a defenseless and half…dead man is little different from torturing a helpless child。 There is no courage in that。 You disappoint me。〃
Rondheim's hand slowly dropped。 He rose； swaying tiredly； and staggered to Kirsti。 Tearing the clothing from the upper part of her body； he slapped her viciously across the breasts。 〃You warped whore； 9 he grasped。 〃I warned you never to interfere。 You who have no right to criticize me or anyone else。 It's easy for you to sit by on your pretty ass and watch while I do the dirty work。〃
She lifted a hand to strike him； her beautiful features contorted in hatred and anger。 He caught her wrist and held it； twisting until she uttered a cry。
〃The basic difference between a man and a woman； my dove； is physical strength。〃 He laughed at her helplessness。 〃You seem to have forgotten that。〃
Rondheim roughly pushed her out the door and turned to the guards。 〃Throw that queer bastard in with the others；〃 he ordered。 〃if he is fortunate and opens his eyes once more； he can have the satisfaction of knowing he died among friends。〃
Chapter 16
Somewhere in the black pit of unconsciousness Pitt began to see light。 It was vague； dim like the bulb of a flashlight whose batteries were gasping out their last breath of energy。 He struggled toward it。 Desperately he reached out； once； twice； making several agonizing attempts to touch the yellow glow he knew was his window to the conscious world outside his mind。 But each time he thought it was within his grasp； it moved further away and he knew he was slipping backward into the void of nothingness once more。 Dead； he thought vaguely； I'm dead。
Then he became aware of another force； a sensation that shouldn't have been there。 It was ing through the void； being stronger； more intensified with each passing moment。 Then he had it； and he