Remo did some quick calculations. Ford had saved Roote once already. He appeared now to be a man with a purpose.
It didn't take long for Remo to come to a conclusion. There wasn't much doubt in Remo's mind where Arthur Ford was running now. And to whom.
Chiun didn't see Ford. From his position on the road, the dilapidated shacks of the main village blocked the Master of Sinanju's view.
Although Remo still felt out of sorts, he didn't think that he was in the dire condition Chiun claimed. As long as he kept his wits about him, he'd be okay. Besides, he'd just keep an eye on Roote until Chiun arrived and watch the old Korean's back if he underestimated his opponent.
In spite of Chiun's warnings, Remo got carefully to his feet. He began to pick his way stealthily across the rocky ledge toward the lone shack.
Chapter 27
"Behold, lesser mortals, the Master of Sinanju!" Chiun held his arms out wide. His kimono sleeves flapped like the wings of a giant silver moth.
"Is that like a Time Lord?" someone asked. Chiun's hazel eyes narrowed.
"Is that something that is terribly powerful?"
Many of the Camp Earthers shrugged. "Sure. Yeah. Absolutely." The words were accompanied by confident nods.
"Then I am that, as well," he announced.
"See? What did I tell you?" Walter Malpa enthused. He pulled the hem of his untucked T-shirt in order to better display the picture emblazoned across the front. "He's one of these guys."
"He looks human," someone suggested.
"Yeah," agreed another.
"Sort of Chinese."
"'Chinese' and 'human' are mutually exclusive," the Master of Sinanju said flatly.
There was an abrupt commotion at the edge of the crowd. An M-16 barrel suddenly battled its way through the excited throng. At the far end of the weapon was Beta RAM. He aimed the barrel at Chiun's chest.
"Are you people crazy!" he screamed at the other Camp Earthers. He glanced around, eyes wild. Many of the men and women had discarded their weapons. "Pick up your guns!"
Most of them sheepishly gathered up the rifles they had dropped to the dirt.
"He's okay," Walter assured Beta. "Really. He's an alien."
"He's one of the government guys who chased me from Las Cruces," Beta said, annoyed at Walter.
"Look at him," Walter insisted. "That's no Fed. The head, the eyes, the fingers. Even the robe screams 'alien.'"
Chiun had tucked his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono. He stared blankly at Beta RAM. Beta looked down at Chiun's wizened form. Flickering light from a dozen fires illuminated his kimono in an eerie glow. On closer inspection, though he hated to admit it, Beta realized the kid might have a point. Even so, he nudged his weapon closer to Chiun.
"If you're an alien, where's your ship?" Beta asked.
"Maybe he's from that UFO the electricity guy shot down," a Camp Earther suggested.
"Let him answer," Beta threatened.
Seeing their leader so concerned, some of the others had put their earlier enthusiasm in check.
They aimed their weapons at the Master of Sinanju, as well.
"I have parked my USO in the desert, so as to avoid the prying eyes of your government. See? I am well versed in your paranoid delusions. Now, to the matter at hand. Where is the one who was taken from the military base?"
Beta ignored the question, offering one of his own.
"USO?"
"Yes," Chiun intoned. "I am a great advocate of USOs."
"United Service Organizations?" Beta RAM asked.
"What?" Chiun said.
"That's what USO stands for," Beta explained. "You know, they're the ones who go around entertaining the troops during wartime."
"What are you babbling about?" Chiun asked. "I am not interested in troops. Only a single soldier. The one called Roote."
Some eyes strayed to Beta RAM. They knew that this was the name of the alien they were protecting.
"Roote is a soldier?" Walter asked. "Was he part of the intergalactic militia?"
Chiun did not hesitate an instant. "Yes," he replied. "I seek out this powerful and evil being in order that he might face trial beyond the stars." He waved an ominous hand skyward.
"What did he do?" asked a fascinated voice.
"He is a criminal."
There were shocked gasps. "Like Khan?" Walter asked, referring to the Star Trek character.
"Of course not," Chiun replied, thinking they were talking about Genghis Khan, a figure much beloved in Sinanju history. "I tell you this," he intoned, raising an instructive finger, "Khan was not only a great and much maligned ruler, but he always paid on time."
The Master of Sinanju would have gone on to further extol the virtues of the bloodthirsty Mongol leader, but he noticed all at once that the wonder-filled faces of a moment before had been replaced by expressions of cold mistrust.
"I told you," Beta barked to his followers. "He's no alien. He's with the government."
All of the weapons were up now. Twenty M-16s were aimed at Chiun's chest.
Remaining as deathly still as the mountain on which they all stood, the Master of Sinanju acknowledged not a single weapon. His hazel eyes were fixed on Beta RAM.
"What do we do with him?" Walter asked nervously.
Beta glanced back across the encampment, toward the lone hut where Arthur Ford's alien was hiding.
Beta turned back to the tiny figure standing before the flickering flames. He didn't hesitate in his response.
"Kill him," Beta said, his voice cold steel. And the night erupted in automatic-weapons fire.
"THEY'RE HERE!" Arthur Ford whispered hoarsely as he ducked inside the door of Roote's shack. The private was lounging against one wall. One index finger tapped idly against the top of a spent battery, sparking a single repetitive blue shock of electricity.
"Beta's friends?" he asked with a sick smile. Ford nodded desperately. Thinking better, he began shaking his head just as frantically.
"Not both of them. Just the old one."
At that moment, gunfire erupted across the camp.
Ford twisted, startled. He was so panicked, he almost dropped his rifle.
"They're coming!" he yelled.
"Calm down," Elizu Roote insisted.
Sighing, Roote glanced up at the corrugated roof of the shed. As the many guns rattled loudly outside, Roote seemed unconcerned. Staring at the ceiling, he continued to tap, bored, against the battery.
Roote's eyes strayed down the tin walls, skipping over to Arthur Ford's intent face. He smiled. "Well, if he's so eager to meet me, by all means, let's invite him into my parlor," Elizu Roote said with an evil grin.
TWENTY SECONDS before the Camp Earthers started shooting at Chiun, Remo was having his own problems.
He had circled around to a point just above Elizu Roote's shack. Arthur Ford had just ducked inside, and Remo was about to proceed down the hill when he felt the gun barrel in his ribs.
"Get up."
Two men. Perimeter guards.
He should have sensed them. At any other time since his earliest Sinanju training, he would have. But his body had yet to counter the residual effects of Roote's attack. In focusing his senses on the building below he had opened himself up to a nearer opponent.
Remo rose dutifully to his feet, arms raised. The shack was forgotten. He drew his senses back in tight, focusing on his immediate environment.
Just the two. No more loitering in the brush. They wore grubby flannel shirts and jeans. Scraggly beards sprouted from their grimy faces. "Is this the Devil's Tower landing strip?" Remo asked innocently. "I've got to catch a bus to Melmac."
It was at that moment that the gunfire erupted in the camp below.
The men twisted, startled. Looking down into the camp, they were just able to see a flash of silver near the fires. A tiny figure seemed to be dancing among their fellow Camp Earthers. Wherever it went, bodies seemed to fall.