As soon as he was safe, Deferens fell to the platform and started vomiting.
"Bombs or no bombs," Remo said to the Master of Sinanju, ignoring the retching minister. "Next time he goes in the drink, you're pulling him out." He dropped the jacket into the dirty water.
"I make no promises," Chiun said blandly.
On the floor, Deferens made a violent puking sound.
"Oh, knock it off," Remo complained, kicking the defense minister in the side of the head with the heel of one loafer. "You're an East African government official. You should be used to swimming in shit."
Still retching, Deferens pulled himself to his feet. Clutching his belly with sick fingers, Deferens led the two Sinanju Masters down the tunnel.
For Remo, the area was becoming more familiar. Both he and the Master of Sinanju detected the radiation in the air even before they came to the entrance of the tunnel down which Remo and Bubu had discovered the first nuclear device.
The bomb casing had been leaking throughout the day. There was not enough for a lethal dose, yet neither man wished to risk it. Remo and Chiun paused at the mouth of the tunnel as Deferens ducked down it.
Alone, Deferens hurried to the bomb. The first reckless signs of hope were thudding in his chest. These two men had displayed remarkable abilities, yet something about this bomb was keeping them back.
His queasiness was fading, rapidly being replaced by calculation. With shaking hands, he popped open the plastic panel on the side of the casing. The LED counter was still ticking remorselessly down to 12:00 midnight.
They wanted him to shut it down, but they were far enough away that they couldn't see exactly what he was doing.
Without even touching the panel, Deferens moved his fingers, making a show of disarming the bomb. While he pantomimed, the display continued to race to zero.
He blinked excitedly, swallowing a rank clump of bile-fueled saliva.
He would leave this one armed. If he could somehow get away from these two, he might yet be able to flee the city. Thank God that Don Vincenzo had insisted on more than one bomb. At the time, Deferens had thought it foolish, but now...
Any thought of salvaging his original plan was gone. Nellie Mandobar had inadvertently taken all of his targets to safety. But this was no longer about mere money or power or racial insulation. It was about revenge.
Maybe he could escape-maybe not. But in the end, it would be L. Vas Deferens who would have the last laugh. For though these two had displayed amazing abilities, Deferens doubted either of them could withstand a nuclear explosion.
And if he did manage to escape, abandoning these two to the city-leveling blast, Deferens intended to pay Nellie Mandobar a visit. He would teach that mooka bitch a final lesson for ruining his brilliant scheme.
As he pretended to work, visions of a dead Mrs. Mandobar dancing in his fevered brain, L. Vas Deferens suddenly felt a sharp pain in the side of the head.
He toppled sideways to the floor, blinking bright stars from his eyes. When he pulled himself to his knees, feeling at the sticky blood in his hair, he glanced down the tunnel.
Remo was still standing next to Chiun, another small rock clutched impatiently in his hand.
"We know what you're doing, crap-bag, so quit jerking us around and get to work," Remo said threateningly.
Hope drained away; despair flooded in behind it. Deferens turned woodenly back to the bomb. Soul gutted, he began dutifully punching in the proper disarm code.
Chapter 34
The lone sentry patrolled the edge of the dusty bungalow village, a rifle slung over his shoulder. Savannah had been chopped back a dozen yards from the last straggling houses, the better to see approaching enemies. While this worked well in daylight, when the inky darkness of night drew its shroud over Africa, all the world was consumed by menacing shadows.
The moon was a cloud-masked memory as the guard made his careful way along the well-worn perimeter path.
Weak spotlights illuminated the distant main street of the village. Insects danced merrily in the glow.
The sounds of revelry from the far end of the street carried back on the humid air.
The last of the helicopters had landed nearly three hours ago. Everyone who was supposed to be at Nellie Mandobar's party was already there. As the evening progressed, a few of the guests had retired with hired women to the small houses behind which the guard now walked.
To break the tedium as he walked the circuit around the bungalows, he had been listening for the sounds of lovemaking. Near the house where he was certain he'd seen Trollop Seasoning enter with three of the caterers, the guard heard the sudden sharp sound of a twig snapping.
He froze.
Lifting his boot, he looked down and saw the small brittle branch he'd felt crack beneath his thick sole.
Of course the sound had come from him. Only Luzus ventured this far out into the wilds of East Africa these days. And even they were miles away.
When the guard looked back up, his eyes barely registered the flash of metal from out of the night. Somewhere behind it, shadows on a painted face.
The blade struck his neck, and the world turned briefly upside down before growing completely and eternally black.
As the guard's body joined his severed head on the dusty African ground, Bubu slipped forward, machete in hand. He made a soft clicking sound with his tongue.
More armed Luzu natives appeared from the darkness, dressed in the simple loincloths of their ancestors. Among them was Chief Batubizee, his broad face drawn in somber lines.
No words were spoken.
On swift silent feet, the Luzu war party moved stealthily into the village, away from Nellie Mandobar's headless guard.
In the distance, the party roared on.
Chapter 35
Their tour of the Bachsburg sewer system at last brought them less than half a city block from the presidential palace. Many of the defense minister's minions still toiled above, oblivious to this particular aspect of their employer's plan.
Remo and Chiun had met resistance at the first three bomb sites. But as the clock crawled closer to the midnight deadline, the Camorra men assigned by Nunzio Spumoni to keep watch for the defense minister had bolted. By the last bomb, the two Masters of Sinanju found themselves racing down an empty tunnel.
Deferens had been finding it impossible to keep up. As a result, Remo and Chiun had clamped onto his arms-one on each side. As they whisked him through the tunnel, the stone walls a blur, Deferens held his breath in fear.
"I'm gonna have to boil my hands for a month after this," Remo griped as he ran. He held Deferens as far from his own body as possible.
"Must I remind you that we would not need to rush had you not frittered away much of the day?"
Chiun replied tightly. His kimono skirts billowed as his pumping legs kept perfect time with his pupil's. Remo held his tongue.
His internal clock told him that it was past eleven-thirty. Thanks to the unexpected resistance they'd encountered at the other sites, they were half an hour later than expected by the time they reached the last bomb.
Brackish water pooled in the secluded dead end. Remo and Chiun dumped Deferens in front of the rusted gate through which peeked the stainless-steel bomb casing.
Deferens didn't need to be told what to do. Grabbing the corroded grate, he pulled it free, leaning it against the stone wall. He squatted in front of the bomb.