Remo's trio of lice-ridden adversaries hesitated, each man glancing briefly at his companions as their hulking comrade fell. Mr. Big's rapid defeat might have prompted them to run, except that Remo barred their only exit to the street.
"C' mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Remo complained. "Let's just get this over with, huh?"
Remo Williams, Reigning Master of Sinanju, was far less distracted and impatient than he seemed. His senses provided him information from all directions and his awareness was high, like the awareness of a hunting big cat. He knew that Stacy Armitage was moving, for example, seeking out a corner of the dead-end alleyway and searching for a weapon, anything that she could use in self-defense if Remo failed to drop his three opponents. At the same time, he was also conscious of the wounded mugger to his left, moaning in pain as one hand clutched his thigh, the other still wrapped up in chain.
Mr. X advanced with his switchblade held in front of him, lips drawn back from his teeth as he cursed Remo in a steady stream of gutter Spanish.
Remo didn't even try to translate, gliding forward to surprise the blade man. The blade man was very surprised indeed. One second he was facing an unarmed skinny white tourist. The next second his knife was gone, his wrist was broken and the wall on one side of the alley was rushing at him at a hundred miles per hour. He bounced off it, more bones breaking inside his body, and before he could fall he found himself facing the skinny white guy again. The pain of the broken wrist was just screaming into his brain as he felt the white guy take his head in his hands. There was a brief flash of rapid movement, then there was blackness.
When Mr. X collapsed, the faded cap was facing forward and it was the blade man's head that was reversed, facing directly backward on a broken neck. That was enough for the two men still on their feet. They wanted out of there, but Remo didn't plan to let them go so easily. He stood his ground and waited, knowing they would either have to rush him or-
The dark man with the knife turned and made a rush at Stacy Armitage, but the rush didn't get too far. Remo had lost patience with this gang of dull blades and stepped in fast, giving the would-be hostage taker a quick nudge in the back. The knife man flew into the brick wall near Stacy Armitage with a liquid thump. Not hard enough to kill him, but the knife man's good looks got squashed into pulp, which he would discover when the pain would bring him screaming back to consciousness hours later.
Mr. Big chose that moment to drag himself erect, one hand clutching the filthy wall behind him, his good leg taking his weight. It had to have hurt like hell, but he was grimly silent as he made his move. Remo faced off the razor man long enough for Mr. Big to get himself up, then moved in fast on the razor man. Too fast for the razor man to even see, and then the razor man was flying-for a fraction of a second he was actually airborne.
The two muggers came together with stunning force, damaged each other irreparably, then fell away from each other like two sides of a lightning-split tree trunk.
Stacy Armitage couldn't quite believe all she had witnessed in the past few seconds. Suddenly her attackers were neutralized. No longer crying, she stared at Remo as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
"Are they all dead?" she asked finally.
"Not that guy," said Remo, pointing at the wall kisser. "These two I don't know."
Stacy raised one shaking hand at the man in the Malcolm X cap.
"You broke his neck."
"Oh, yeah, that guy is dead, definitely. Let's go." She almost flinched when Remo reached to take her hand, but at the final moment she gave in and let herself be led away. The alley was two blocks behind them, and they were proceeding toward the waterfront, before she found her voice again.
"I can't believe you killed them, just like that," she said.
"They made the rules," said Remo. "You were in some trouble with those four, as I recall."
"I never said that I was sorry," Stacy told him. "I just can't believe it was so easy. Who are you?"
"We've been through that already," Remo said.
"You're not like any federal agent that I ever heard of," Stacy said.
"Why, thank you! That was a compliment, right?"
"An observation," she replied. "Don't let it swell your head or anything."
"I'll do my best," he said. "Stop here."
Stacy Armitage found the fingers on her arm were an irresistible force. She stopped because she didn't have any choice. They were standing in a dark place between what few lights there were on the streets.
She felt Remo's hands on her body, but she didn't have time to consider the possibility that he had taken her from the would-be rapists so he could ravage her himself. The man touched her in various places, quickly and methodically.
"Anything hurt, aside from the bruise?"
"No," she responded. "I don't think so."
"You'll live," Remo pronounced, and they started walking again. "What are you doing here?"
"As if you didn't know." Her tone was bitter. Remo knew there was a lot more to come. He gave her a look in the darkness, which was all he needed to do.
"I know you and a bunch of other Feds said my brother's case was being taken care of," Stacy blurted. "I know. Except that wasn't good enough, okay? I couldn't just sit back and wait to read about it in the papers, or to have some stuffed shirt come around six months from now and say it's over, but the details have been classified. I need to see it through. Is that so hard to understand?"
"You almost saw it through tonight," said Remo. "How'd you meet those four gorillas, anyway?"
"I've been in town two days," she said. "Flew down from Jacksonville on Thursday afternoon. The Coast Guard wouldn't give me any information, and the local cops are worse than useless. I've been asking questions, checking out the kind of places where your basic pirates might hang out, if they had time to kill."
No pun intended, Remo thought, but kept it to himself. "So, let me guess," he said. "One of those characters suggested that he might have useful information he'd be willing to let go of, for a price?"
"The Spike Lee fan," she said. "I know he suckered me, okay? Don't say it."
"And he took you to the alley, where his friends were waiting?"
"Pretty much," she said. "I still thought I could talk my way out, maybe buy them off, but they had something else in mind. They would have...I mean, if you hadn't shown up when you did... well, thanks."
"No problem," Remo said. "Unless, of course, somebody in the dives where you were hanging out remembers seeing you with Mr. X. The locals may not care who dropped those four, but if they do, and tongues start wagging, you could have a whole new set of problems on your hands."
"The cops would never think I killed those four back there," she said.
"Which makes it my problem," said Remo, "if you spill your guts."
"I wouldn't tell them anything," she said defiantly.
"You say that now," said Remo, "but this isn't Washington or New York City. The police have different rules down here, and Daddy wouldn't be much help."
"He doesn't even know I'm here," said Stacy. "But you wouldn't hesitate to call him, would you, if you wound up in a jam?"
She glared at Remo and refused to answer him, changing the subject. "Have you found out anything so far?"
"It's too soon," Remo said. "I keep getting distracted."
"Right. And I suppose that's my fault?" Even as she asked the question, though, Stacy sounded remorseful.
They had reached the waterfront, and Remo led her toward the pier where the Melody was berthed. Stacy took one look at the gleaming cabin cruiser, frowned and said, "So this is how you're doing it? You plan to use yourself for bait?"