The Destroyer 110 - Never Say Die by Warren Murphy

Author:Warren Murphy
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780751560596
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2016-09-28T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Once upon a time, the Master of Sinanju had compiled a list of all that he found pleasing in America. The list was short and read as follows:

It isn’t China.

It isn’t Japan.

It isn’t Vietnam.

It isn’t Thailand.

It isn’t France.

He did not mention television, though TV seemed to occupy much of his time. In fact, it would be no exaggeration to describe him as a TV addict.

Which is not to say that all of television’s offerings met with Chiun’s approval. In fact, almost none of them did. However, when Remo asked him on occasion why it was he watched so much TV, Chiun explained that he was monitoring the decline of so-called Western civilization.

That night, cooped up inside his squalid quarters at the Dogwood Inn, Chiun had found yet another example of something Remo called an infomercial. He had been watching these programs on and off lately, preferring those that dealt with psychic and astrological themes.

The one on television that night was not one of his favorites. He had seen it dozens of times. A fat man in a ridiculous wig and puffy white shirt was revealing the secrets of the universe to a bubbly ex-MTV veejay. She grinned vapidly, nodding in appreciation at every lisping observation the man made. It was truly awful.

Still, Chiun watched, for there was nothing else to do. He had already scanned the local newspaper, found nothing to amuse him in the drab reports of nearby goings-on. The county high school had elected cheerleaders. The ladies of the Hidden Valley Church had turned a profit on their bake sale, with the proceeds bound for charity. Three local teens had been arrested for defacing rural mailboxes.

All drivel.

Chiun reached out to Remo with his mind and wondered how the mission was proceeding. Obviously he was not concerned for Remo’s safety. So far, the enemies he faced on this assignment for Mad Emperor Smith had been no challenge for the next Master of Sinanju. Still, if their targets could truly raise the dead, they might have tricks in store that would take Remo by surprise.

Chiun wondered how the local newsmen would describe events unfolding at Ideal Maternity. There was a tendency among most men to cover up their own mistakes and oversights, he realized. It would be too much to expect the unadulterated truth from any branch of the American news media, but they would find it difficult to totally ignore the matter, if some version of the truth spilled out. There would certainly be corpses to explain, but that wasn’t Chiun’s concern.

He was enduring the last fifteen minutes of his infomercial when the enemy arrived. A flash of headlights first, across the flimsy curtains, as the car pulled up outside. It was too soon for Remo to return, and two doors slamming meant at least that many passengers emerging from the vehicle. Chiun counted footsteps and revised his estimate to three. Male voices were jabbering, when any skilled assassin would have held his tongue.

Chiun did not rise to greet them, leaving them to do the work.

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