Destroyer 88 - The Ultimate Death by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

"Chiun, wait up!"

Remo caught sight of the Master of Sinanju a few buildings down from the Neighborhood Improvement Association. There were no sounds of approaching police cruisers, which should have been dispatched to investigate the gunfire. As for the neighbors, they seemed strangely disinterested. As if they had their own notions as to what constitutes neighborhood improvement.

There were signs all around that Little Italy would be only a hazy memory in a few short years. If Chinatown was allowed to grow unchecked, it would continue to devour the Italian section of Manhattan like a hungry beast, building by building.

Mott Street was a strange collection of commingling ethnic smells. The odor of steamed milk and tomato sauce vied with pungent soy sauce for supremacy.

"Little Father. Time out. Okay?"

The Master of Sinanju froze on the sidewalk in front of a small food store. Inside the large glass display window, heavy tubes of prosciutto spun lazy spirals beside cured pork strips. A Chinese shopkeeper was whisking the sidewalk with an old-fashioned straw broom. His eyes squinted in haughty disdain at the sight of the unfamiliar Korean, and he began to sweep the sidewalk with increased vigor.

"Why didn't you tell me who was behind this?" Remo demanded angrily, storming up behind Chiun. "We could have stopped this before it got this far."

"Are you blind?" Chiun shouted, wheeling. "The gyonshi are a threat to us now only because of your ineptitude."

"Gyonshi ?"

"It is the name the blood-drinkers use for their own kind."

"Oh, so these Chinese vampires are all my fault, are they?" Remo demanded. "What, did I forget to close the tomb after me?"

"I would not put such perversity beyond the realm of the possible," Chiun said. "Especially from someone of such obviously deficient parentage. But it is clear to me that had your stroke been pure fifteen years ago, we would not be facing this menace today. You have always had a problem keeping your elbow straight."

"Ah-hah!" Remo shouted. "Now I know where the bent elbow came from!"

"Yes. It came from you."

"I tell you, my elbow was straight!" Remo demonstrated a rapid stroke in the air before him. "Zip, zip. In and out. I shaved enough of his brain to keep the Leader in a coma forever."

Chiun's eyes narrowed. "Demonstrate again," he commanded.

Remo thrust his hand out before him at the same imaginary target. He stepped back, his face pleased. "There!" he said triumphantly.

"And this is identical to the technique you used on the Leader?" Chiun prompted. "A perfect recreation," Remo said, folding his arms across his chest. "I haven't changed that lunge in fifteen years."

"Thank the gods we did not rely on that particular stroke against all of Emperor Smith's enemies," Chiun said curtly, "or there would be a veritable army of dispatched enemies pounding down our door."

Remo dropped his arms to his sides. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The forward thrust," Chiun commanded. "Execute it."

Dutifully, Remo shot his arm out, forefinger extended stiffly.

"Hold!" Chiun ordered. Remo froze in position. "Now, return." Remo's hand snapped back to his side.

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