The Destroyer - 36 - The Destroyer 036 - Power Play by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir [Murphy, Warren & Sapir, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pulp Action
Publisher: PINNACLE BOOKS
Published: 2010-03-19T14:53:30+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

By the time their am­bu­lance had reached the Pruiss res­idence, Theo­dosia had de­cid­ed. She was keep­ing the oth­er three body­guards on the pay­roll. She twist­ed her hands to­geth­er ner­vous­ly as she told Re­mo.

“That’s not nec­es­sary,” Re­mo said.

“No,” said Chi­un. “Not nec­es­sary. If you have mon­ey to throw away, I know this nice lit­tle vil­lage where the peo­ple…”

“Chi­un,” said Re­mo.

Theo­dosia shook her head. Dark curls splashed around her shoul­ders.

“No. This is the way I want it. I’ll just sleep bet­ter.”

“Suit your­self,” Re­mo said. “Just keep them out of our way.”

“You do it,” she said. “I don’t want to deal with any­body tonight.”

Re­mo had the three body­guards meet him in the old ground floor golf pro shop of the for­mer coun­try club.

They came in as if ex­pect­ing an am­bush, scan­ning the room cau­tious­ly with then eyes, glanc­ing be­hind the glass counter and the doors

Re­mo was prac­tice putting with a put­ter he had pulled from a sam­ple bag of clubs.

“No­body hid­ing in the golf bags ei­ther,” he said, look­ing up.

“Now lis­ten, Yank, what’s this all about?” the mer­ce­nary colonel said. “We’re sup­posed to be on du­ty.” He was a husky man with a mus­tache twirled in­to points so pre­cise that on­ly a sadist would have in­flict­ed that kind of dis­ci­pline on his fa­cial hair.

The small arms ex­pert and the karate man nod­ded.

“Theo­dosia’s de­cid­ed to keep you on,” Re­mo said. “Don’t ask me why.”

“The ‘why’ is be­cause we’re the best there is,” the colonel said.

“Sure,” Re­mo said. “Right.” He putted a ball across the room and stopped it twelve feet away on a lit­tle dark spot in the green rug. Pro shops al­ways had green rugs, he re­al­ized. “Any­way, I just want­ed to tell you to stay out of our way. Work out­side or some­thing.” He in­spect­ed the soft rub­ber grip of the put­ter.

“Do you know what a drag it is be­ing able to one-​putt ev­ery green?” he said. “I liked golf bet­ter when I used to miss a shot once in a while.”

“You know, Yank,” the colonel said with a faint sneer. “When this is all over ..”

“If you guard your­selves the way you guard­ed Pruiss in that hos­pi­tal,” Re­mo said, “when this is all over, you’ll be lucky to be alive.”

“You Amer­icans are al­ways pushy,” the colonel said. He fin­gered the stock of his sub­ma­chine gun. “When this is over, just you and me.”

Re­mo smiled at him, then putted an­oth­er ball across the floor. It stopped, touch­ing the first prac­tice putt.

“You don’t seem wor­ried, Yank,” the colonel said.

“I told you,” Re­mo said. “I nev­er miss. One putt all the time.”

“I’m not talk­ing about your bleed­ing golf game,” the colonel said. “I’m talk­ing about big things. Life and death.”

“If you want some­thing big, you ought to try a twen­ty-​dol­lar Nas­sau with press­es on the back nine,” Re­mo said.

“Life and death,” the colonel in­sist­ed. “You know how many men I’ve killed?”

Re­mo putted an­oth­er ball. It stopped touch­ing the first two.

“I’ve seen what you killed,” Re­mo said. “Un­trained nin­nies who couldn’t tie their own shoes.

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