Destroyer 013 by Acid Rock

Author:Acid Rock
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Only a few feet away, another man nodded.

Separated from Nilsson and Barenga by the wall of the apartment, Chiun pressed a button, turning off the last of his favorite afternoon television shows. He settled back into full Lotus position and allowed his eyes to close.

Remo, he knew, had gone to look for the in

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trusive wench. He would no doubt find her; that she could vanish was really too much to be hoped for. That would be simple and in America life was never simple.

It was a very strange country, he mused, as his eyes closed gently. Chiun had worked for too many emperors to believe in the superiority of the masses, but in America the masses were right. Everyone could live in happiness if only people would respect everyone else's right to be left alone. That was all the masses wanted in America, to be left alone. It was the one thing they never got, he reflected. Instead, they got social tinkering, and the tensions and troubles that tinkering caused.

How unlike Sinanju, the tiny village that Chiun was from but had not seen in years. Yes, it was poor by American standards but the people were rich in many ways. Each lived his own life and did not try to live another's. And the poor, the aged, the weak, and the children, they were cared for. It did not require social programs, politicians'

promises, and long speeches, just the income from the skills of the Master of Sinanju.

For over a thousand years the village had hired out its Master as an assassin, and his labors supported those in the village who could not support themselves.

This was Chiun's responsibility. As he sat with his eyes closed, his mind on the edge of sleep, he thought it had been just and fair, a rich and honest life. The Master of Sinanju had always performed his missions, and the emperors he had served had always paid. Now his "emperor" was Dr. Smith, the head of CURE and Remo's employer. Dr. Smith also paid.

Why could America not handle its social

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problems in the same efficient way it handled its need for assassins and their skills?

But that would be simple, and simplicity was not the white man's way. It was not their fault; just that they had been born defective.

Chiun heard the knock on the door but decided not to answer it. If it was Remo, he could get in. Anyone else would be looking for Remo or the girl, and since neither of them were here, there was no point in opening the door to say that when a closed unanswered door could deliver the same message.

Rap! Rap! Rap! The knocking was louder now. Chiun ignored it more, if that were possible.

"Hey. This here is Room Service," a voice brayed from the hallway. Rap! Rap! Rap!

If the man hammered on the door long enough he would eventually get tired, perhaps so tired that for sustenance he might eat the food he was carrying. That would be punishment enough.

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