Unnatural Selection (Destroyer 131) by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir [Murphy, Warren & Sapir, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure, sf_detective
ISBN: 9780373632466
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2003-03-19T16:32:45+00:00

"Oh, crap," repeated Remo.

"Hush, Remo," Chiun said. "Forgive him, O minstrel. Rudeness is just another of his many failings. Tell me about the song you are going to write about me and are not going to write about Remo."

"I don't know yet," Bugget said. "But a lot of the songs I write are about folks I meet in my travels. I guess that's probably because of how I started out. Years ago I used to do country covers at a little bar in Nashville."

The Master of Sinanju gasped. He held a frail hand to his chest. "Dare I ask? Is it possible that you know the beauteous Wylander?"

This was a country music star for whom Chiun had developed a crush a few years before. She had the biggest hair and the fattest caboose in the Grand Ole Opry. Which, given the competition, was no mean feat. Somehow the Master of Sinanju was able to see past the surface to glimpse some deep, inner beauty. Remo, on the other hand, suspected if you dug that deep into Wylander, you'd strike nougat.

"Wylander Jugg?" Bugget asked. "Sure, I know her. But don't beauteous mean good-looking?" Confused, he looked to Remo for help.

"Don't drag me into this. I thought he was over the Wylander kick." His ear was cocked toward the door. A dark notch settled in his furrowed brow.

"That is because all you think of is your selfish little self," Chiun said. He was listening, as well. Without warning, the two men rose to their feet. Remo scooped up the case of gene-altering formula. Bobby Bugget whirled around them worriedly as the two Masters of Sinanju swept past.

"What is it?" the singer asked.

"Do not concern yourself, my songsmith," Chiun said.

"A car," Remo said. "Probably just our delivery boy. But maybe you better stay back here out of the way just in case the fur starts flying."

Bugget hadn't heard a car. He strained his ears. All at once the soft sound of an approaching engine tickled the far edge of his hearing.

"If it gets as crazy as last time, I don't want this stuff getting spilled," Remo said to Chiun, patting the big case. He glanced around for a good spot to leave it, finally settling for the top of an eight-foot-high stack of bottled-water boxes. He slipped the case up on top just out of sight. "We'll be right back," he promised Bugget.

And with that they were gone. The door to the bottling plant swung shut behind them.

Alone in the drafty warehouse, Bobby Bugget's bare knees knocked anxiously together.

"Nothin' to worry about, Bobby," he promised himself. "Them fellas scared off everything with sense enough to be scared."

For a moment, he looked out the open door, but he found the night too frightening. He looked at a fluorescent light instead. The fluorescent light was friendly. He wondered if there was anything cheerier than a fluorescent light. He decided that on his next gold-selling album he would write a song about the cheeriness of fluorescent lights.

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