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ground.  “I got no room for passengers on my boat.  You always fly back with that hellcat daughter of yours.”            
    “Bridget is no hellcat.” 
    McKenzie’s voice was soft and low and ominous, and it sent a chill racing down Morgan’s spine.  If he didn’t know better, he would almost have thought the priest was threatening him.            
    “Eh.  Well, when are you plannin’ on leaving?”
    “Now is fine,” McKenzie replied, untying lines and freeing the boat from its moorings.  The riverboat was already being tugged into the current as Morgan came to his feet.
    “Now wait just one minute, Padre.”
    The priest turned to face him, the look on his face conveying a promise of a lingering death that would bring more pain than an extended stay in the lowest pit of hell.
    “No waiting,” McKenzie said his voice as cold as death itself.
    Morgan felt himself swallow a huge lump that had suddenly insinuated itself into his throat.  “Right.  We'll go now.”
     
    He moved to the cabin and fired up the engines.  If they ran all through the night, they might reach the falls by late morning.  Normally that would be the end of the line for him; the Congo Diamond only ran the lower Congo, while her sister boat, the Congo Ruby, made the long journey between Leopoldville and Stanleyville.  But just this once, Morgan thought it might be wise to see the cargo - and the passenger - all the way to the Mission.  He didn't want to irritate the strange clergyman any more than he already had.  He had already figured it would be smarter to refrain from commenting about the Priest’s adopted daughter, if he wished to live.
     
                                        *****
     
    “We have a problem,” Bridget told the others as she led them to where her seaplane - a Grumman JF Duck - was docked.           
    “What’s that?” Hannigan asked.            
    “The plane only holds the pilot and two other people.  There happen to be four of us,” she told them.        
    “Four of us, three seats, yeah that could be a problem, Kid.”
    “Somebody will have to ride on the outside,” Bridget said, her voice grim.         
    “Gregor, Degiorno. I just drew the short straw,” Hannigan’s voice was flat and cold. “Get in the plane.”
     

Chapter Six
     
    “Hannigan, you really can’t plan to ride outside the plane for the whole flight,” Bridget argued.
                “You keep the plane low enough so I won’t freeze to death and I’ll manage just fine,” Hannigan replied.  His grim expression, cheeks suddenly looking sunken and hollow, gave lie to the confidence behind his words, but his blue eyes peered piercingly at her.  “I don’t see as how there is any other choice.”
                Bridget read the seriousness of his intent.  “Then you have to let me tie you down,” she replied soberly.  “I don't even want to think about what could go wrong; the wind could cut off your oxygen and you’d die.  We'll have to turn you so you're facing backward.”
                “I can live with that, Sweet Pea.”
     
    Before he could elaborate further, Bridget grabbed him and pulled him close, pressing her lips hard against his.  It was an awkward kiss, passionate but clumsy, and it ended as abruptly as it had begun.  When she drew back, her eyes were alive with promise. “Mike Hannigan don’t you dare die on me.”
                “Hey, I'm invincible,” Hannigan told her, but then as the impact of her offering hit home, he dropped his false bravado, letting his eyes show her his true feelings as well.  “I'll make it, Bridget.”
                “I’ll tie him to the strut,” Gregor Shotsky inserted.  “Trust a sailor to tie the best knots.”
                “I feel safer already,” Hannigan quipped.
     
    Bridget studied the