On the side of the house away from the gunfire, they paused to peer in a window. Two people were inside, tied to chairs. Tom’s heart leaped as he recognized one of the captives.
TRAPPED BELOW 173
“It’s Bud!” he whispered to Arv.
“Who’s the other guy?” Arv wondered aloud. The second prisoner’s back was to the window. He was black-haired and appeared to be tall and thin.
“I think I can guess, but we’ll soon find out,” Tom replied. Apparently the two men firing at the seacopter had been guarding the captives, since no one else was visible inside.
Tom and Arv waited until another pass by the Sea Hound turned the gunners’ heads away from the cabin. Then they darted around to the front and slipped inside. Bud let out a yelp of joy.
“TomI Arvl Where’d you guys come from? Don’t tell me you swam herel”
“That’s the Sea Hound they’re shooting at, boy!” Tom replied with a grin.
As Tom had guessed, the other prisoner was Tristan Carlow. He looked dazed with relief and stammered out his thanks as Tom and Arv untied them.
Bud quickly filled Tom in on what had happened aboard the Naiad. A helicopter had removed all hands from the yacht and taken them to a rendezvous point ashore before daybreak.
“Vaxilis decided it would be smart, for the sake of his own life and underhanded schemes, to hold me as a hostage,” Bud explained.
From their shore rendezvous, they had been picked up by a small trading vessel owned by Vaxilis and taken to a spot on the North African coast where the tycoon maintained a luxurious
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