Rick turned to Nast. "Do you have an opinion, Mr. Nast?"
Nast was a little pale, but his voice was steady enough. "I certainly do. I agree with you, Mr. Brant."
Rick grinned mirthlessly. "You do? I'm glad. Instead of killing you, I suggested to Scotty that we cripple you. Perhaps a few compound fractures of the arms and legs."
Rick could see that neither Lazada nor Nast were as composed as they seemed. The calm, unearthly discussion was too bizarre. Threats were something they understood, but not threats like this.
Scotty spoke for the first time. He addressed Nast. "Because you're a fellow American I thought the decent thing to do would be just to kill you outright."
Nast shuddered visibly. "You're both joking, of course. But it isn't a very funny joke, I assure you."
Rick smiled. "No, it isn't very funny. But neither is Dr. Briotti's disappearance. You'd better tell us where he is."
"What makes you think Mr. Nast knows?" Lazada asked.
Rick considered. They had no proof. No one had seen Nast in the sedan that had taken Tony from the airport. The boys saw movement at the entrance to the dining room and realized that two Filipinos were watching them like hawks, and that the hands in their pockets certainly held pistols.
Rick shifted tactics. "Do you have much faith in your bodyguards?"