The whole set-up was reminiscent of one of those forts built in the American West.Francine wondered what lay beyond the walls. Most likely desert, she...imagined. It was hot and dry enough, at least on the evidence of the last couple of thirsty and painful hours."What's your name?" she asked the girl to her left. Francine was on the end of the row and this was the easiest to speak to."Sorry! Me no speak the English good. Me Katya." Fucking great!" spat Francine at nobody in particular. Some. "The captain gave his orders, the helm was put up, and the boat was soon sailing in the direction of the island. Franz waited until all was in order, and when the sail was filled, and the four sailors had taken their places--three forward, and one at the helm--he resumed the conversation. "Gaetano," said he to the captain, "you tell me Monte Cristo serves as a refuge for pirates, who are, it seems to me, a very different kind of game from the goats." Yes, your excellency, and it is true." I. More

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