Chapter 69

A pressure against the pit of his stomach--a firm shove of hand upon his shoulder--and Defoe found himself stepping backward until it seemed he must have walked the length of the ship. But of course he hadn’t--he hadn’t even left the stateroom--and suddenly he was tumbled on to the edge of the berth, the pressure against his abdomen increasing. A vague nausea gripped him. He clutched at his abdomen and his fingers wrapped themselves around the barrel of an automatic pistol. The pressure against his body became unbe…