As he grabbed, Barney's hands moved up between his and caught the man's throat. Without his even thinking, Barney's well-practiced fingers moved into the right position, his thumbs pressing hard inward on the Adam's apple. He felt the man's hands loosen and Barney kept up the pressure until he heard a cracking sound, then a gurgle, and the man slumped slowly to the floor.
Daniels looked down at the body. How did he feel about having killed again? He looked at his hands. He smiled.
He felt good and he was just getting started. There were a lot of bills to be paid.
He removed the gun from the hip holster of the guard and walked down the long hall. At the end was Estomago's office, the door closed. Barney placed the heel of his foot near the lock and kicked hard. The door flew open.
Estomago sat alone at his mahogany desk. When he saw Barney, his face showed, first, surprise. Then terror.
"It's been a long time coming, you piece of garbage," Barney said in gutter Spanish.
"Wha..."
"You have a bill to pay for the death of my honored wife, Denise Saravena. And for the boy you killed for his help to me. I have come to execute you and send you to hell."
Estomago lunged for his desk drawer, for the warm reassuring magnum that he kept in there. But he was too slow and too late.
Before he could put his hand around the gun, Barney was leaning across the desk, the barrel of the .38 police special pressed into Estomago's forehead, directly between his eyes.
"It is not going to be that easy," Barney said. With his other hand, he slapped the desk drawer shut, then he yanked Estomago roughly to his feet and shoved him toward the door.
"Where are you taking me?" Estomago squeaked, his eyes round and glassy with fright.
"To the park," Barney said. "We finish as we began. With the ritual of the bat."
The telephone rang in Smith's office. He brushed an imperceptible moustache of moisture from his upper lip as he picked up the instrument.
Remo said, "Listen, this is all some kind of bullshit about nuclear weapons in Hispania being aimed at the U.S."
"Who is behind it?" Smith asked.
"Estomago," Remo said.
"Find Estomago," Smith said coldly. "Find out if an attack is planned. If so, when. And then remove Estomago."
"Got it," Remo said. "You know something?"
"What?" asked Smith.
"This whole deal is all screwy as a can of worms," Remo said, "twisting and turning. I don't really understand it all."
"You don't have to," Smith said. "It's enough that I do."
"Gloria admitted that Daniels had been drugged by them in Hispania."
"Oh," Smith said. "What else did she say?"
"She said she could fly," Remo said.
"Could she?"
"No," Remo said as he hung up.
When Remo and Chiun reached the Hispanian embassy, a row of ambulances was lined up in front of the building.
Remo flashed a state department card and asked a police officer: "What's going on?"
"Don't know. Whole staff is dead or injured. Estomago's secretary is screaming some shit about a madman who tore in and took the ambassador, hollering something about a bat in the park."
Remo turned to Chiun and shrugged his shoulders. Making sure no one else could hear, Chiun whispered to Remo, "It is the ritual of the bat. A way of dueling practiced by many of the Spanish tongue. Daniels is no common killer."
"Daniels is in Doc Jackson's clinic," Remo said.
"Not any longer," Chiun said. "We will go to whatever park is nearest. When you find this Estomucko person, you will find Daniels."
The clearing in the wooded area near one of the smaller ponds in Central Park bore a resemblance to the Hispanian camp from which the young boy had helped Barney escape. It was nearly the same size. The shape of the clearing was identical. It was all back in Barney's head now, all the memories, the murders, the tortures, the jungle, the young bride who had gone out to buy her man coffee and never came back.
And Estomago, this savage, who had killed her and Barney's unborn child.
Doc Jackson waited for Daniels and Estomago in the clearing, the bag of supplies on the ground beside him.
"You've been followed," Jackson said, as Barney shoved Estomago into the dirt. "His goons are right behind you."
"I know," Daniels said. "Tie us up and then clear out. They won't fire with him in the way."
"We can use him as a shield and get out of here," Jackson said.
"I'm staying," Barney said. "Get out that rope."
Jackson bound the wrists of the two men together with the length of rope. He blindfolded Estomago, then Barney, and placed a long knife in each of their hands.
"Leave now, Doc," Barney said. "Use us for cover."
Doc didn't answer.
"Don't try any heroics. Just get out. And Doc."
"What, fool?"
"Thanks for saving my life. I needed it for this."
Barney began to stalk Estomago in a slow circle around the clearing, listening for his footfalls and frightened breathing.
"You will not live through this," Estomago shouted, his voice trembling. "My men have instructions to follow me wherever I go. Half the Hispanian embassy is waiting nearby to slay you."
The slash of a blade sang past Estomago's ear. He would not let the sound of his voice betray him again.
The two men circled. And Barney Daniels in his baggy clothes, his belly aching for food, heard once again the slippery animal noises of the jungle, smelled the lush tropical greenery. He was back outside the hut, fighting again for his life. Only this time he was not drugged, and he was not fighting a boy who had saved him from dying of thirst, and the crowd of spectators was not cheering.
This time he had to win.
Estomago stepped and thrust like a fencer, then jumped back and slashed around him. Barney heard the knife cutting through the air. He attacked from the other side, but Estomago was ready. He whirled out of the way with the grace of a bullfighter.
Robar Estomago had grown up fighting with knives. Despite his fear, he knew that the American was not accustomed to the blind fighting used in the ritual of the bat.
And Daniels was sickly. The past year, the constant abuse, the continuous consumption of tequila to satisfy the drug craving in his body, had all done their work.
Estomago breathed easier. He moved quickly on the balls of his feet, his poise returning.
Barney swung at him with the knife but the attack was slow and Estomago dodged easily.
"You have made a mistake," he hissed. "You know nothing of the ritual. I will kill you like a fly on the wall." With that, he lunged forward with a low thrust. It caught the edge of Barney's left side. Estomago ripped outward.
Barney suppressed a scream and only grunted with the pain.
Doc turned to see Remo and Chiun standing alongside him, watching the battle. Across the clearing stood eight men, Hispanians, also watching.
"I can't help, can I?" Remo asked Chiun.
"No. It would be a dishonor to Daniels to be aided. We must wait," said Chiun.
Doc Jackson shook his head. Softly, he said, "He can't win. He's too weak. Too sick."
Chiun touched the big black man on the shoulder. "You forget," he said, "that there are such things as character and cause. He rights now for something besides alcohol poisons. Watch. He fights like the man he once must have been."
Across the clearing, Remo could hear the breathing of men waiting, their sweat sour with anticipation. He looked at Daniels, blood flowing from the wound beneath his ribs.
"Come, drunkard," Estomago said, a smile on his lips. "Permit me to kill you quickly before you bleed to death. It is more respectable, although why a whore's husband would care about respectability, I would not know."
He laughed as he parried again. His knife nicked Barney's shoulder. The rope tightened as Barney recoiled from the second blow. Estomago moved in quickly, preparing to slit Barney's stomach agape with one long slash.