Craig's voice was still soft and pleasant. Voronoff completely misinterpreted it.
"Include me out!" he snapped. "I'm not going."
"No?"
"No! You can't make me volunteer if I don't want to."
"But we need you, Voronoff," Craig pleaded. "We need all the strength we can muster."
"You can go to hell!" Voronoff said sullenly.
"You won't go?"
"I won't go!"
Craig glanced over the side of the ship. Dusk had already fallen but there was still enough light for him to see the triangular fins cutting the surface. He nodded toward the water. "Either you go with us, Voronoff," he said evenly, "Or I, personally, am going to throw you overboard."
Voronoff looked like a man who did not believe his own ears. A low growl of approval came from the sailors. They remembered how they had found this man hiding in the lowest depths of the ship when they had come aboard. While their kidnapped comrades had fought, he had gone to hide.