It was panic. Had to be. Sheer, blind panic. That was the only logical explanation.
In such circumstances panic always killed. The young one would soon die in the artificial storm. When he didn't, Herr Hahn felt the first tickle of some strange alien emotion deep in his round belly. The young one seemed unharmed by the growing storm. More incredibly, he had cleared one of the trees of limbs, lifting it with seeming ease. Without a sign of strain on his face, he'd raced back to the others.
Hahn had no great control over where the rain fell or lightning struck. The random program that controlled the storm was intended to mimic the real thing so as to give the trees the closest thing to a natural environment as possible.
All Hahn could do was ratchet up the acid output in certain quadrants. He did. As the liquid sprayed from specially designed nozzles through which water ordinarily flowed, the two intriguing men in the greenhouse were already ramming their log against the thick plastic door.
It was incredible to watch.
They were obviously possessed of physical strength far greater than appearance indicated. They had the perfect camouflage, these two men. Nothing about them would indicate anything extraordinary. And yet here they were, battering the door to their final prison.
Their great efforts wouldn't matter. The doors and walls had been designed to withstand pressure greater than any mere mortals could produce. Even men as unique as these two obviously were.
Hahn watched them work, almost grateful that he hadn't met them some other way. Although he was the best at what he did, these two could present-
A light flashed on his monitor. Blinking disbelief, Hahn leaned forward in his chair.
The door to the greenhouse was open. Just a hair so far-and so far the seal was still secure-but these two had somehow managed to do something the engineer of the greenhouse had insisted would be impossible. And Hahn trusted this particular engineer's word, for it was Herr Hahn himself who had designed the room for the CCS.
On the monitor Hahn saw that they'd pried the edge of the trunk between the doors. The old Asian attacked the inflating hermetic seal with his long fingernails.
For the first time in his professional career, Herr Hahn felt his certainty in his inevitable success begin to fade.
This couldn't be. They had to die.
As Hahn watched, the Lifton woman suddenly pointed back out across the greenhouse.
She obviously knew where the emergency switch was. Not that it mattered. Yes, he had gone out to get the log, but the young male would never go back out again.
Hahn watched, stunned, as the young American darted back out into the greenhouse. He grew even more shocked when the thin man with the abnormally thick wrists threw an obscene gesture toward Herr Hahn's security camera.
How could he possibly have known he was being watched?
The American made it to the switch. The acid had to have chewed through the lock and chain, because he simply plucked them off and threw them to the floor.
Others in his business thought Herr Hahn cautious in the extreme. Today, Hahn was grateful for his care and planning. He had disabled the emergency switch before his targets had even entered the greenhouse.
He watched on the monitor as the young one yanked down the switch. When the doors remained closed, Hahn allowed a slip of air to pass his thick lips.
Not that he really expected anything to happen. It was just that, given the strangeness of this situation-
A green light suddenly winked on in the security panel.
Hahn's eyes grew wide. His hands sought out control buttons even as he stuffed his feet back inside the open well beneath the desk. He swept the panel with his eyes.
A breach in the doors. But that couldn't be. The emergency switch was dead. He was sure of it.
The old Asian was still attacking the seal. But now plastic shards had begun to fly like string confetti in a homecoming parade.
Impossible! He was using his fingernails to whittle away at the supposedly invulnerable polymer. Somewhere, somehow, a break had been made in the airtight seal.
He glanced at the monitors. This couldn't be happening.
Hahn was watching two screens at once. The young one was across the room while the old one and the girl stood under the door overhang. Through the murky air Hahn thought he saw something that gave him hope. He zoomed in on the roof.
Yes. There it was. The acid was rotting away the securing bracket. No sooner had he focused the camera than the metal twisted and snapped. The roof lurched and collapsed.
Two dead, one left. Hahn reached for the control panel.
The overhang was no longer there. There was no protection, no way out. Hahn could cut off the sprinklers on half of the room, concentrating the downpour where the young one stood.
Hahn flipped the last switch. Gripping tight the edge of the control panel, he threw his attention back to the monitors. To watch the younger man finally do as he was supposed to. Melt into a pile of steaming flesh and bone.
THE DELUGE that would have turned a common man to sludge failed to kill Remo Williams for one simple reason. Remo Williams was not a common man.
He was off at a sprint even as the acid was falling. It hadn't even touched ground before he was nearly out of range.
The nozzles had been turned off to the right of the greenhouse. That was where Remo ran.
Remo was running full-out even as he felt the first drops of acid kiss the back of his T-shirt.
As he ran, he rolled the skin of his back, flexing and twisting the muscles. His skin became a life-form independent of the rest of his body, rippling in undulating waves. The movement kept his shirt out of complete contact with his skin, preventing the acid that was bleeding into the disintegrating fabric from finding root in soft flesh.
He was at a crouch once he reached the storm line. With a fall and a roll he was out of it. Acid that had pooled on the floor chewed away at the knees of his pants.
The nozzles where he'd been standing clicked off with a drizzling hiss. In another moment he was sure the ones directly above him would switch on.
He was out in the open now. Exposed. There was no longer any place for him to hide. His eyes strayed to the remnants of the door arch.
Even if Chiun had survived under all that metal, it would only be a matter of time before-
Remo blinked. The twin doors into the control room were no longer closed. The clear panes had been pried apart. A narrow gap opened into the room beyond.
A weathered face appeared in the narrow opening. Chiun's worried expression changed to a look of agitation.
"Remo, act your age," the Master of Sinanju admonished. "It is unseemly for the Transitional Reigning Master of Sinanju to be stomping around in rain puddles."
With that, Chiun disappeared.
Above Remo, the nozzles switched on. It no longer mattered. Remo was already gone.
He took a running leap over the collapsed roof. "Banzai!" he yelled as he dove over the twisted debris and through the open door. His palms hit the floor in the small control room and he flipped up and over, landing on the soles of his smoking loafers. "Tah-da!" he announced, throwing his arms out wide.
Amanda was standing next to the Master of Sinanju. Rather than be impressed, she wore a frightened expression.
The instant Remo hit the floor, the Master of Sinanju jumped forward, tapered fingernails flashing out like deadly knife blades.