'So we've got fifty minutes to live,' Angelo stated dramatically.
His words had an immediate effect on Ben. He was suddenly filled with rage, with an absolute determination to get out of here. He stood up and started to pull at the rope with the full weight of his body. It did nothing, and he cursed.
'Cosa fai?' Angelo asked, clearly alerted by the sound of Ben moving. 'What are you doing?'
'Get up,' Ben said. 'Walk towards me. If we can get close enough, maybe we can undo each other.' Deep down he knew they weren't close enough. But they were desperate and anything was worth a try.
There was a scuffling sound as Angelo hurried to his feet. 'Where are you?' he asked.
'Here,' Ben announced as he stepped blindly in Angelo's direction. It only took a few paces, however, before he felt the pull of the rope and was unable to walk any further.
'It's no good,' Angelo announced. 'We're too far apart.'
Ben had to concede that it was true. 'There must be some way out,' he raged. 'There must be something we can do.' Backing up in the direction of the control bench, he groped in the dark as well as his bound hands could manage, hoping to find something sharp against which to slice the rope. But there was nothing.
Elsewhere in the room he could sense Angelo beginning to panic.
'It's no good,' the Italian wailed. 'We're going to die.' A brief moment of silence, and then: 'Do you think it will hurt, Ben? When the factory explodes, I mean. Do you think we will feel it?'
Ben felt the muscles in his face set into an expression of determination. 'We're not going to die,' he said from behind gritted teeth. 'We're going to get out of here somehow.' He tugged sharply at the rope yet again, but still nothing happened.
Angelo's voice became angry. 'What do you mean, we're going to get out of here? It's useless, Ben. Can't you see that? We've been lucky so far today, but this is it. There's nothing we can do! We might as well just sit here and wait for it to happen.'
And it was at just that moment that Ben's eyes were blinded.
He screwed his eyes closed and bowed his head as the pain of the sudden bright light subsided. Then, gingerly, he looked back towards where the light had come from. The door was open and standing there, illuminated from behind by the bright beams of a vehicle's headlamps, was a figure. For several seconds it did not move — it just stood there, a dark silhouette — and Ben felt a curious mixture of relief and fear. Then it stepped to one side, disappearing from Ben's vision.
'Help us!' Ben called. 'We're tied up. You have to…'
He stopped as the main lights flickered on.
It took a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the brightness, and a few more to make out the features of the man standing there.
He had tanned skin and dark hair that was dishevelled from being out in the wind and the rain. His clothes were soaked and he had an urgent, uncertain look in his brown eyes. He was looking not at Ben, but at Angelo, and he was breathing heavily.
'Danny,' the two of them whispered in unison.
Danny stood there, as though lost for words.
'Danny,' Ben urged. He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice — any minute now he could fall to his death. 'You've got to untie us. This place could blow any minute.'
Danny barely blinked.
'You've got to help us, Danny.' As he spoke, Ben struggled to free himself from the ropes, but of course it was useless.
Danny took three uncertain steps towards Angelo. When he finally spoke, his voice was strangled.
'You said you can speak to your father?' he asked.
Angelo nodded mutely.
'And what will you tell him?'
The Italian boy blinked and Ben held his breath. It was all up to Angelo now; all up to his dishevelled friend who only a second ago had been wailing with panic. Ben willed him to say the right thing — whatever that was.
'I will tell him,' Angelo replied, 'what has happened to me. I will tell him that I nearly died. And I will tell him that it is his fault and that if he does not stop doing the things that he is doing, he is no longer my father and I am no longer his son.'
Angelo stared at Danny, a wide-eyed, open stare that made it clear he meant what he said. Danny returned that gaze with a look that expressed a world of doubt and indecision.
And then he stepped forward.
'Turn round,' he told Angelo.
The Italian boy did as he was told. Ben watched as Danny started to untie the knot that bound him. Within seconds Angelo was uncoiling himself and Danny was working on Ben's ropes. 'We've got to stop this happening,' Ben said before he was even free. 'Danny, do you know where the bomb is? He said he had a detonator, but if we can get the explosives away from the refinery…'
He was untied now, so he spun round to uncoil himself.
Danny was ashen-faced and Ben noticed that his hands were shaking. 'I'm sorry,' Danny started to say. 'You tried to stop me, but I wouldn't listen…'
Ben took a deep breath, stepped over to Danny and held him by the shoulders. 'Forget about it,' he told the man sincerely. 'It's water under the bridge and we've got other things to concentrate on. The explosives, Danny. Do you know where they are?'
Danny shook his head. 'All I know,' he replied, 'is that there's more than one of them.'
'More than one? How many?'
'I don't know.' As he spoke, the tower above them creaked ominously once more.
'We need to get out of here, Ben,' Angelo said urgently. He was already halfway to the door.
Ben felt as if untying the rope had freed his mind as well as his body. All the possible scenarios seemed to be flashing through his head. 'We don't know how much time we've got,' he announced quickly. 'This place is massive — without knowing where the devices are, we'll never find them in time.' He looked at the others. 'Get to the truck!' he yelled. 'The mercenary said he had a remote detonator. The only way we can stop the refinery from blowing is by catching up with him and getting hold of the detonator.'
They were all moving towards the door now, but Angelo looked at Ben as if he was mad. 'But we don't know where he is!' he shouted.
'Yes we do,' Ben yelled as they ran outside into the rain.
Angelo looked at him in confusion. 'Where?'
'The Keys. He told Danny to head for the Keys, remember? The Florida Keys — it's a series of long, thin islands to the south of here.'
'Ben's right,' Danny barked. 'He'll definitely be heading south. We need to hurry.'
Instinctively, Ben ran round to the driver's side of the car; as he did so, he heard Danny shouting.
'No, Ben,' he yelled. 'I need to drive.'
'Why?'
'Think about it. If we catch up with him, we'll need to get him to stop. He'll only do that if he thinks it's just me in the truck.'
Ben narrowed his eyes slightly. He still didn't quite trust Danny, but he had to agree that he was right: the mercenary wasn't simply going to pull over just because Ben and Angelo were asking him nicely. He looked at the back of the pick-up. It was swimming with water and the rear guard was rattling ominously in the wind. It didn't look like the most luxurious way to travel. In fact, it would be positively dangerous — exposed to the elements they would be at risk from the flying debris and whatever else the storm hurled at them.
'We could travel in the front and just keep our heads down,' Angelo suggested.
Ben thought about it. 'No,' he decided finally. 'I don't think so. If the pick-up comes to a stop, we need to be properly out of sight. The back of the truck's the only real option.'