Remo backed away. "Mister, I'm not looking to fight with you," he said. "I just want to discuss—" "My ass," Artemis hissed. "You're trying to kill me. Some special friend you turned out to be."
And with his final shred of strength, Artemis Thwill raised the Chinese vase over his head and lowered it fiercely in Remo's direction. Unfortunately, the window was also in Remo's direction, directly behind him, in fact, and when the vase began
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its mighty descent downward, it was through the window, with Artemis trailing helplessly behind it and cursing Randy Nooner with his last breath. In a second, Artemis Thwill and the Chinese vase struck pavement below. Both cracked.
"Pax Vobiscum," Remo said. He snapped the lock on the door and stepped quietly into the hallway.
Samantha had heard the racket and run in from the living room, Chiun following behind. She was already screaming. "You killed him!" she shrieked. "It's clear-cut murder."
"I didn't kill him," Remo said.
"Of course you did, darling," Samantha said. "Murder. Do you know what double indemnity pays for murder?" With brisk efficiency, she pulled a sheaf of papers from a bureau drawer. "With a policy this size—"
"He killed himself," Remo said.
Suddenly Samantha's sparkling eyes grew murky and cold. "Don't you ever say that to me again," she said.
"I just wanted you to know I didn't kill your husband—"
"It better be murder, mister, or I'll follow you the rest of your miserable life."
"Okay, okay," Remo said. "Whatever makes you happy. Where's Randy Nooner?"
"Gone," Samantha said, her voice still menacing. "And you'd better take off, too, if you know what's good for you. My husband was murdered, the murderer got away, and I get double indemnity." She whirled ferociously on Chiun. "Right?"
"Of course, gracious lady," he said, nodding.
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"For the sake of your double identity, Remo will be pleased to murder your husband."
"He's already been murdered," Samantha stormed.
"So much the better," Chiun said. With a bow, he followed Remo out onto the grounds of the army base in search of Randy Nooner.
Samantha reached her by telephone. "I just wanted you to know that Remo guy you brought over here is on his way to your place."
"Fine," Randy said. Tin not at my place. Your call was transferred automatically to the car. How are you, Samantha darling?"
"I'm rich," Samantha said, barely able to contain her excitement. "Artemis is dead. Remo killed him."
There was a moment of silence, followed by peals of laughter. "Perfect," Randy gasped. "Perfect, perfect. Now our Artemis is a martyr for all time."
"And I just made a half a million dollars in insurance money," Samantha said.
"We'll drink a toast to him when I get back"
"When will that be?" Samantha asked.
Randy said something that didn't make sense to Samantha. Samantha asked her to repeat it, but Randy had already hung up. For a moment Samantha kept the dead phone to her ear, puzzling over the words she thought she had heard Randy Nooner speak. They didn't make any sense, for what she thought she had heard were the words: "When I'm queen."
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Eleven
Randy Nooner's house was guarded by a solitary sentry, a young man with red hair and freckles and sky-blue eyes as vacant as space.
"Your name," he said flatly as Remo and Chiun approached.
"Call me Ishmael," Remo said.
With precise, robot movements the sentry took a small piece of paper from his pocket. On it was written the name of the man Randy Nooner had called him about from her car. He stared impassively at the name on the paper. "Spell 'Ishmael,' " he said.
"R.E.M.O."
The letters matched. "Enter," he said, stepping aside.
The moment Remo and Chiun walked over the threshold, a whistle blew, and all the exits to the house closed and locked simultaneously.
From the corner of his eye, Chiun spotted a khaki sleeve in a window. "Down," he commanded.
Remo dropped to the floor. "What the hell—"
A spät second later, the open fire began. Light
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from the blaze of a half-dozen M-16's spat through the room in a fury of destruction.
"To the blind spot in the corner," Remo whispered, nodding toward a space angled between two windows. Judging the trajectory of the bullets from the positions of the soldiers at the windows and the smoldering, jagged holes on the floor, Remo and Chiun wriggled in a quick pattern past the bursts of fire to the corner.
"We can reach the cellar door from here if we move fast," Remo said.
Arching his back nice a cat's, Chiun sprang forward in a blur into the rain of bullets and out the other side. Remo met him inside the cellar door.
"Look, I thought we were just making a house call. I didn't expect the charge of the light brigade, either."
"Be silent and find a way out of this noise," Chiun shouted over the din of gunfire.
"Okey dokey," Remo said, searching for an opening in the basement walls. The only window was a small rectangle through which could be seen the legs of a soldier firing into the ground floor. Remo watched the legs quizzically. "Don't they know we're not up there anymore? They just keep shooting into an empty room."
"Perhaps you could ponder the quality of their eyesight at another time," Chiun suggested. "Get us out of here. Now. It is expremely irritating to one of my serene disposition to be subjected to this dialogue of Western weaponry. Particularly with us as the target."
Tm looking, Little Father."
"You sing. You crash cars. You lead me into rooms full of booms. Never do I experience peace of
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mind with you. I am but a poor innocent in the twilight of his years. When have I asked for anything more than a quiet evening made lovely by the scent of the wild rose—"
"All right, already," Remo yelled. "We'll use the window."
"Remove the person standing in front of it first."
With a sigh, Remo said, "Yes, Little Father," and etched a deep groove around the perimeter of the window with his fingernail. Then, using the tips of his fingers for suction, he pulled the glass inward without a sound.
The soldier above continued to fire into the house, oblivious to the activity by his feet until they were swept from beneath him and he felt himself being yanked at incredible speed through the small opening of the basement window. Before he could scream, Remo silenced him with a two-finger thrust to the throat.
"C'mon," Remo said. "I'll lead, in case there are more waiting outside." He pulled himself partially through the narrow opening and peeked out. Two other soldiers were at the wall, but they too were firing steadily into the house, their eyes locked on the maelstrom of bullets and dust inside the house. With a leap, Remo cleared the opening and ran some distance behind the soldiers. Chiun seemed to materialize magically beside him.
They skirted the house silently until they stood behind a lizardy-looking officer Remo recognized as General Elalhassein. The general's hands were clasped behind his back. In the next instant, they hung limply at his sides, his arms having been disconnected at the shoulders. He screamed sound-
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lessly, his eyes rolling, as Remo held him by his neck and whispered, "Where is Randy Nooner?"
The general's mouth opened and closed like a tuna's. "Airport," he managed.
Remo's grip tightened, "More."
"Quat."
«What?"
"He said Quat," Chiun snapped. "I have told you that these persons come from Quat. Why do you persist in asking such irrelevant questions amid this deafening noise?" He stuck two fingers in his ears to muffle the sound of the soldiers' ceaseless gunfire.