At the same time, Kato Sugihara dropped the paper-bound periodical,
revealing the thin-bladed knife he had concealed under it. He stepped
forward, pressing the point of the weapon against the Pole's side. With
the other hand, he reached across Lowiewski's chest and jerked the
pistol from his shoulder-holster. It was one of the elegant little .32
Beretta 1954 Model automatics.
"Into the elevator," MacLeod ordered. An increasing pressure of Kato's
knife emphasized the order. "And watch him; don't let him get rid of
anything," he added to the Greek.
"If you would explain this outrage--" Lowiewski began. "I assume it is
your idea of a joke--"
Without even replying, MacLeod slammed the doors and started the
elevator upward, letting it rise six floors to the living quarters.
Karen Hilquist and the aristocratic black-sheep who called himself
Bertie Wooster were waiting when he opened the door. The Englishman took
one of Lowiewski's arms; MacLeod took the other. The rest fell in behind
as they hustled the captive down the hall and into the big sound-proofed
dining room.
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