"I cannot believe you kept this from me," Deferens said.
"Do not pout," Nellie Mandobar admonished. "You are still invited. Your office knows the location now. You may take one of the helicopters. They are leaving from the Bachsburg airport at regular intervals."
In the ensuing pause, Nellie thought she could hear the sound of another voice beyond Deferens. "Who have you invited there?" Deferens asked abruptly.
"Just the dignitaries themselves. No bodyguards or staff. It is a demonstration of trust. Now, I must get back to my parry. I hope to see you soon." Her voice suddenly steeled. "And, Vas ...do not disappoint me again."
It took Nellie Mandobar three tries before she managed to hang up the phone. As she slurped pensively at her drink, she considered the fate of L. Vas Deferens.
The defense minister had been extremely helpful to her, but the organizational phase was now over. He and those under him would soon meet their fates. When the time came, Nellie Mandobar wondered how large would be the smear in the sand that would mark the passing of Minister L. Vas Deferens.
When she pulled herself to her big feet, she lost her footing and bounced off the vibrating wall. Giggling at her clumsiness, she staggered back out to join her party.
Chapter 32
"I can't believe it," L. Vas Deferens said, shaking his head incredulously. He was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, phone in his lap.
"Yeah," Remo said without sympathy. "The best laid plans, huh? C'mon, peaches." The phone banged to the floor as he pulled Deferens to his feet.
"How may I help?" Bubu said as they hurried to the door.
"Return to your village," Chiun commanded. "Tell Chief Batubizee to gather all of his Luzu warriors. When we are finished here, we will strike the demon harpy in her lair."
"Give us time to finish here first," Remo said as he shoved Deferens into the hall. "We've got five hours to disarm the bombs, max. Plus an hour out to Luzuland. We'll meet you at about 1:00 a.m. Where's a good spot, Chiun?"
"The road to the Luzu treasury. It is near her village, yet far enough away that we will not be seen."
Remo nodded as he pushed the elevator button. "Sounds like a plan. You got all that, Bubu?"
"Yes, Master Remo," Bubu said, worried. "But perhaps you do not realize that it takes longer than one hour to drive out to the place you have chosen." The elevator doors slid open, and all four men hurried onto the car.
"Let me worry about that, Bubu," Remo said as the doors rolled shut. "Remember, I'm smarter than the average bear."
Chapter 33
The temperature in the sewer had risen as the day's hot sun baked the asphalt above. The goggles of Nunzio Spumoni's gas mask were fogged from humidity and anxiety. He had to pull the mask up to the top of his head to speak. His cell phone was slick in his palm.
"I don't know, Don Vincenzo," Nunzio said worriedly. "I have tried him, but he has not returned my calls."
The Camorra agent had explained all of this already.
Minister Deferens had disappeared. Not even his office knew his whereabouts.
The bombs were still set to go off at midnight. After Deferens vanished, Nunzio had come down here to check. Except now none of the men who were supposed to be caught in the blast were in Bachsburg. They were all at that damn parry of Nellie Mandobar's.
Over the phone, Nunzio could hear the muffled roar of the raucous gathering. When he spoke, Don Vincenzo's voice was a rasping echo. The head of Camorra had been forced to place his call from the men's room.
"I am not pleased, Nunzio," Don Vincenzo said menacingly. It was the tenth time he'd said so that evening.
His tone gave Nunzio a rare shiver.
"Don't worry, Don Vincenzo," he promised. "I'm certain he will call."
"Whether he does or does not, I am leaving this party by eight o'clock," the old don snarled. "My head is already pounding from this noise."
"You are not returning to Bachsburg?" Nunzio asked, trying to ingratiate himself by showing his great concern.
"Do you want me to die?" Vincenzo snapped. "Has that been your wish all along? Of course I am not, fool. I am flying to Victoria to rendezvous with my jet. Dammit, I should not even be here. That anitra cervello Giovani was dancing with a whore a moment ago." Low menace flooded his tone. "For your sake, he had better not be alive tomorrow."
Nunzio gulped. "We will make alternative plans," he vowed, his voice a croak. "We will reset the bombs for tomorrow, when Giovani and the rest have come back to the city."
"If your Minister Deferens ever contacts you," Don Vincenzo said, sneering. "I am very, very disappointed in you, Nunzio." With that, he broke the connection.
Shivering visibly, Nunzio snapped the phone shut.
Where was Deferens?
Don Vincenzo was already planning to leave the country. If L. Vas Deferens didn't call soon, Nunzio Spumoni wouldn't be far behind.
In the underground tunnel, the Camorra man pulled his protective mask back on. So nervous was he, Nunzio had hardly noticed the stench.
Like Don Vincenzo, Nunzio had his own doomsday plan. If Deferens didn't arrive by 8:30 p.m. sharp, he would drive like hell to the airport and take a nine-o'clock flight out of East Africa. It didn't matter where he flew to. Just as long as he wasn't in Bachsburg for the explosions.
He would worry about the personal fallout later. Nunzio paced back and forth on the slimy catwalk, his arms crossed, phone in hand. His suit was drenched with sweat.
He had left more than two dozen urgent messages with Deferens's office. There were Camorra men with cell phones stationed at every bomb site. If the defense minister showed up at any one of them, his men would call.
Nunzio and a handful of men were waiting at the primary site, beneath the Bachsburg hotel district. Most of the crime lords, as well as much of the city, would be taken out with this one bomb.
Six bombs. Six timers counting down to zero. Nunzio checked his watch. Barely five-thirty. Still, midnight was looming large for Nunzio Spumoni. As he dropped his hand to his side, he froze. A sound. Coming up the distant tunnel.
"What was that?" Nunzio hissed hopefully.
He waved frantically at the four men he had brought down into the sewers with him to come forward. They came to him, guns drawn. All five men peered down the dimly lit tunnel.
And as Nunzio Spumoni strained to hear, the first sounds of argument carried to his ears.
"Don't bellyache to me. I told you to watch where you were going."
"He pushed me," insisted the voice that Nunzio knew could belong to none other than L. Vas Deferens. The East African sounded strangely cowed.
"Oh, I am to be blamed for your clumsy clubbed feet?" sniffed a third, singsongy voice.
"You did push him, Little Father."
"Surprise me one day, Remo, and take my side for once."
When the men broke into view at the end of the tunnel, Nunzio didn't know whether to be relieved or even more concerned. Defense Minister Deferens was flanked by an old Asian and a young white man. The East African's trademark white suit was dripping wet and stained gray.
Nunzio remembered the white as the man who had caught Deferens's attention at the Bachsburg restaurant.
"This isn't about choosing sides," Remo griped. "It's about me having to fish Himmler here out of Shit Creek."
"I think I am going to be ill," Deferens offered.
"Shut up," said Remo and Chiun.
Nunzio was stunned when Deferens actually fell silent. He merely trudged along, his hands clutching his belly, a queasy expression on his sagging model's face.
"Is everything all right, Vas?" Nunzio ventured as the men closed in. "I tried to call...."