"Just sleeping one off."
"Muslims don't drink alcohol."
"Thaf s not what she's sleeping off," said the voice of the hand that squeezed her neck.
Tamayo Tanaka didn't remember pitching face-first into the bedding. Only waking up later, with the foul garlic and olive stench of Abeer Ghula's breath in her face.
"Mmm," Abeer murmured.
"I'm Tamayo Tanaka and I'm wired for sound. Can I get a quote?"
"Mmm."
"Psst! Remember me? Tammy? From 'Nightmirror?'"
Abeer Ghula opened one golden eye. It fell on Ta- mayo's face, flicked up to her hair and came to rest on her eager blue eyes.
"Are you my blue-eyed blonde?"
"If I can get a quote, I'll be your little pink poodle."
Abeer Ghula smiled dreamily. "I have never filiated a blond man," she said. "Did youis an Arabic word?"
"I'm not a-"
"I will tell you whatever you wish if you allow me to taste your blond infidel hardness." "Sure," said Tamayo, making her voice husky. "But we have to do it under the covers in the dark."
"Yes, it will be very exciting this way."
"Close them. Are you ready?"
"Put it in my mouth, and I will suck it dry."
Remo Williams said, "Sounds like a certain someone's awake."
"Both are awake," said Chiun on the floor, where he could watch TV in comfort.
"What are they saying?"
"The false Japanese wench is trying to coax words from the harlot."
"Let her. She's not going anywhere."
"And the other is promising to suck it dry."
"Suck what dry?"
Chiun shrugged. "Who can say when a false prophet awakens beside a blond-haired Japanese?"
"I'd better look into this."
"Do not forget. It is your turn to please the female Ghula. And see that her smile is correct this time."
"Maybe I'll just show Tammy how to do it and save us both a week of boredom."
Remo stepped into the bedroom and saw a double lump under the bed covers. It was a very active lump, with distinctive sucking sounds coming from it.
He was hesitating between breaking it up or letting the orgasms fall where they may when a flash of silver caught his eye.
A light plane was circling outside the window. It lined up nose-first on the hotel. Approaching, it dropped until it was level with his window.
Remo's eyes had been trained to see in darkness, under difficult light conditions and as far away as the human lens mechanisms allowed for optimum sight.
He saw that there were two men in the cockpit. Then the passenger placed a pistol to the pilot's head and shot him through the temple.
That was all Remo needed to see.
Racing to the bed, he yelled, "Make for the door, Little Father! Incoming!"
"Incoming what?" asked Chiun.
"No time! Run for it!"
Tucking a squirming bundle tucked under his arm, Remo got out of the room fast on the heels of the Master of Sinanju's skirts as Chiun flashed out the door.
Remo pulled the door shut, thinking it might not help but who knew.
The splintering of glass came as they mounted the low retainer wall, flipped over it and, using one hand for leverage, swung downward and in, landing on the floor below.
From there, they ran to the opposite side of the floor.
The explosion shook the building like a milk shake. Up above, a skylight cracked. Down came shards of glass. The second boom was lighter, but it made the door to their room cartwheel out and tumble past them in a hot breath of air to land far below.
The rest of it was mostly fire and crackling.
Chapter
"Say again?"
"Forget it. We can't stay here if they're going to drop aircraft on us. We need a new locality."
"Hold the line."
"Sure." Over the line, Smith heard Remo ask the Master of Sinanju, "Are they done yet?"
"I do not know. The blond one's thumb is bleeding, and the other is sucking it harder now."
"Leave them alone. They obviously know what they're doing."
"What is going on there?" Smith demanded hoarsely.
"You don't want to know."
"I have the President on the dedicated line. Wait, please."
Swapping receivers, Smith told the President, "I am back."
"What's wrong?"
"What do you mean?"
"I could hear your heartbeat. It went into overdrive."
Smith cleared his throat uncomfortably. "There was another attempt on Abeer Ghula's life, but she is safe. I am going to have to move her to a safer location."
"Whatever you do, don't send her to Washington. The last thing I need is terrorists attacking the capital. The pundits are already calling me the President who let the postal system lurch into chaos. The damn Speaker of the House is right now talking up legislation to abolish the postal service."
"I will be back to you."
"If it's bad news, keep it to yourself as long as possible. After the reelection would do just fine."
Hanging up on the White House, Harold Smith resumed speaking with Remo Williams.
Remo said, "Did he really tell you to keep a lid on the bad news?"
"He did."
"He's sure running scared."
"Not our problem, Remo. I want you to move Abeer Ghula to the World Trade Center."
"Why there?"
"Since the 1993 bombing, it has become the hardest, safest structure in all of Manhattan. They would not dare to attack her there."
"You ask me, they'd dare to attack her in the Vatican."
"I stand corrected. They will be unable to breach the World Trade Center security. Move her immediately. I will arrange for an FBI counterstrike force to meet you."
"On our way. What about the dip-shit?"
"Leave her behind. Of course."
"Prying her thumb out of Ghula's mouth may be more work than just pretending they're Siamese lesbians and treating them as a set."