Publisher's Synopsis
Johnny Thompson dreamed of the Russians battling in the night, the Japanese girl, and the line of footprints through the endless snow . . . and now he woke with a sense of peril tugging at his heart. His first blurry thought was that the aperture above him had in some way darkened -- and now what he saw there made his heart pause and his eyes bulge.
Directly above him, poised for a drop, was a vicious looking hook. With a keen point and a barb fully three inches across, and with a shaft of half-inch steel driven into a pole three inches in diameter and of indefinite length, it could drive right through Johnny's stomach, and pin him to the planks beneath. And, as his startled eyes stared fixedly at it, the thing shot downward!
