"Sorry," the man muttered in Mongolian, then looked Giordino in the face. "Who are you?"

Giordino could see the glint of alarm register in the man's face and immediately extinguished it with a right cross to the chin. The man slumped to the ground just as a loud shout erupted in front of them. Standing on the next flatcar, two other workers witnessed Giordino punch out their supervisor and yelled out in bewilderment. The workers turned and yelled across the yard, waving their arms at the security jeep, which was just pulling away from the warehouse.

"So much for a stealthy getaway," Pitt quipped.

"I swear I was just minding my own business," Giordino muttered.

Pitt peered down the rail line toward the gate they had cut through. If they took off at a sprint they had a chance to reach it before the jeep cut them off, but the guards would be right on their tail.

"We need a diversion," Pitt said quickly. "Try to attract the attention of the jeep. I'll work on getting us a lift out of here."

"Attracting attention won't be a problem."

Together they ducked under the railcar and crawled to the other side. Pitt hesitated in the shadows while Giordino jumped into view and started running back toward the stacks of pipes. A second later, several dockworkers came streaking by after him, dust and gravel rising from their feet inches from Pitt's face.

He looked out and saw the security jeep make a sudden turn, its headlights capturing Giordino's image in the distance.

It was Pitt's turn to move now and he jumped from beneath the flatbed and ran toward the next railcar in line. One of the forklifts was setting a pallet of pipe casings on the flatbed when Pitt charged toward the driver's compartment. He still carried the sledgehammer with him and made a flying downward swing as he sprang into the cab. The heavy mallet head struck the foot of the operator before Pitt even landed.

The startled driver stared at Pitt with wide eyes before the pain from two broken toes registered in his brain. Pitt raised the hammer as a first cry of agony trickled from the man's lips.

"Sorry, pal, but I need to borrow your rig," Pitt said.

The stunned operator flew out the opposite side of the open cab as if he had wings, disappearing into the darkness before Pitt could wield another blow. Pitt dropped the hammer and slid into the seat, quickly backing the forklift away from the railcar. He had driven a forklift decades before while working at a car parts distributor in high school and the controls quickly came back to mind. He whipped the forklift around on its lone rear wheel and stomped on the accelerator, aiming the twin prongs in the direction of Giordino.

Pitt's partner had streaked toward the maze of stacked pipes until he saw one of the armed security guards emerge from the nearest piling. The jeep was descending from the center of the yard with the two other guards while a trio of dockworkers was chasing him from behind. Despite the odds, Giordino quickly figured his best chance was against the unarmed workers trailing him. Grinding to a stop in his tracks, he turned and charged directly at the first man in pursuit. The startled worker hesitated in surprise as Giordino suddenly bore into him, driving his shoulder into the man's stomach. It might as well have been a bull charging a rag doll. A gasp of air wheezed from the man's lips, then his face turned blue as he fell limp across Giordino's shoulders. The tough Italian didn't miss a step, bulling forward with the dead weight into the second worker, who was following only a step behind. The three bodies collided with a sickening thud, Giordino using the body over his shoulder to soften the blow from the second man. In a tumble of arms and legs, the three bodies fell to the ground in a heap, Giordino somehow landing on top.

In an instant, he was on his feet, wheeling to face the next pursuer. But the third dockworker, a wiry man with long sideburns, had deftly sidestepped the mass of bodies and whirled behind Giordino. As Giordino rose, sideburns sprang onto his back and cupped an elbow around his throat. A simultaneous fusion of forces converged on him, as the jeep screeched to a halt just inches away while the guard on foot approached yelling with his gun drawn. Realizing he could no longer fight his way out, Giordino relaxed under the grip of the headlock, thinking that this was not quite the end of the diversion that he had in mind.

Staring through the windshield, he noticed the driver of the jeep glare triumphantly as if he had just bagged a trophy caribou. The smug guard, obviously head of the security force, started to climb out of the jeep, then hesitated with a quizzical look on his face. The look turned to horror as he turned toward a bright yellow blur flashing out of the darkness.

Blazing across the yard, Pitt had the forklift floored and aimed for the driver's side of the jeep. A warning cry erupted from the jeep's passenger, who tried to scramble clear, but there was nothing the driver could do. The twin forks sliced into the jeep like it was made of cheese, penetrating just fore and aft of the driver's seat. The nose of the forklift then bashed into the doorsill, mashing the jeep sideways for several feet and sending its occupants airborne out the opposite side. The two guards tumbled to the ground as the jeep skidded to a halt beside them. Pitt quickly jammed the forklift in reverse and backed away from the mangled car.

With the shock of the collision just in front of them, Giordino felt sideburns's grip around his neck loosen a fraction and he reacted immediately. Shoving the man's wrist up, Giordino flung his free elbow into the worker's ribs. It was enough to stun the man and allow Giordino to slip his grasp. Giordino turned and ducked as sideburns threw a roundhouse punch, which he countered with a hard jab below the man's ear. The smaller man quickly dropped to his knees, gazing at Giordino with a dazed look in his eyes.

That still left the security guard on foot. Giordino glanced at the armed man a few feet away and was relieved to see that he was no longer pointing the gun in his direction. The guard had instead turned his attention toward the forklift, which was now racing directly toward him. The guard fired two panicked shots in the general direction of the cab, then leaped out of the path of the charging vehicle. Ducking low in the cab, Pitt heard the shots whistle over his head, then yanked hard on the steering wheel as he passed by the guard. The nimble forklift quickly spun around and in an instant Pitt was back on the heels of the man. The surprised guard stumbled as he now tried to flee the rabid forklift and fell facedown in its oncoming path. Pitt quickly lowered the front prongs and moved in for the kill.

The guard should have rolled to the side but instead tried to stand up and run. As he rose, one of the prongs struck him along the backside and rode up his coat. Pitt jammed the lift lever and elevated the twin prongs above the cab, hauling the guard up into the air with them. Kicking and flailing, the guard dropped his gun as he desperately grabbed at the prong to keep from falling to the ground.

"You know, you could hurt someone with this thing, if you're not careful," Giordino said, jumping into the cab and grabbing an overhead roll bar for support.

"Safety first, I always say. Or is it second?" Pitt replied.

He had already spun the forklift around and was accelerating alongside the railroad tracks toward the gate. As he was passing by the loading dock, several workers stepped forward, then jumped back as the forklift raced by, the security guard dangling from the elevated prong and shouting out for help.

Pitt spied a high stack of oil drums ahead and veered the forklift toward the pile.