Unable to thrash or scream or fight, she could do nothing except lie there and wait for it to happen. Her only consolation was that death should come quickly. But it didn't.
Chapter 44
Chief Spence jogged to the president, his clothes flapping in the wash of the helicopter rotor blades. "It's over!"
"What's over?" Greg Grom shouted above the roar as the big transport chopper settled on the helipad. "The crisis! My men are combing the town. The mob has been wiped out."
"Wiped out? Who wiped them out?"
"I guess it was the citizens," Chief Spence said vaguely. He avoided telling the president the truth about the dead-eyed man who had run alongside his squad car and matched the description of one of the two said to have wiped out the mob.
"I'm going anyway," Grom declared.
"Don't you think you should stick around?" the chief asked. "The news will be all over this place in an hour."
"I don't care," Grom said nervously. "I have to go!" Chief Spence picked up a megaphone and began telling the tourists to turn around and go back to their hotels. The danger was past. Evacuation was unnecessary. The vacationers were complaining but relieved. Greg Grom didn't feel relief. Not yet.
Finally the emergency transport chopper swayed and lifted off of the helipad. The lights of the cruise ship dock fell away and the blackness of the nighttime Caribbean Sea cushioned them. They'd be in St. Thomas in no time.
Somebody knocked. "Hello? Can I come in?"
It was him. The one with the dead eyes was standing on the landing skid with his face pressed against the glass. "Fine. I'll let myself in."
The rush of air filled the cabin and the dead-eyed man didn't close the door behind him.
"Who are you?" Greg Grom demanded.
"Remo...somebody. I forget exactly. Why do you care?"
"Are you going to assassinate me?"
"Oh, for sure. But first-" Remo grabbed the small carry-on that was Grom's only luggage "-is this all of it? The poison?"
"Yes. Take it. It's all yours. It'll make you rich and powerful!"
"Like you?" Remo asked with a chuckle. "No, thanks." He hoisted the bag out the open door, and it tumbled three thousand feet into the sea.
"No!"
"Don't fret about it, Prez. You're going with it."
Remo grabbed Grom by the back of the neck and walked him to the open door.
"No!" Grom shouted again. This time it was a long, long "no" that ended with a splash.
The copilot burst into the passenger compartment. "What the hell is going on?"
"My friend," Remo said, "I'm just figuring it all out myself."
With a little persuasion, the pilot and copilot agreed to turn the helicopter around.
REMO FOUND the suite empty when he awoke in the morning. He lifted Chiun's trunks and wandered downstairs, past the all-you-can-eat breakfast where the sleep-deprived vacationers were having it out with the staff.
A woman in a floral swimsuit under a souvenir T-shirt was leading the resistance movement. "What do you mean no hash browns! How can you not have hash browns?"
The staff was confused about this, too, and tried to explain what they thought had happened.
"Stolen?" the woman cried. "Your hash browns were stolen? Nobody steals hash browns."
"Well, those were awfully good hash browns," an elderly woman in the crowd spoke up, and she was met with fervent agreement from the others.
"Was it you who stole them?" the outspoken lady demanded of the old woman.
"No. I was just saying they were worth stealing."
"It was you!"
The outspoken lady had to be restrained.
Remo found Chiun in the lobby, talking to the big blue parrot.
"It was Master Lu who actually decided to try to eat parrots. Lu made several bad decisions. For some reason he thought the parrot flesh might be suitable fare, comparable to duck."
The macaw shifted uneasily on its branch.
"Of course," Chiun continued, "those were ugly little gray parrots. The Romans imported them from Africa. You look like a much meatier specimen."
The macaw gave a small squawk and hopped several branches away.
"Finally found somebody you can win an argument with?" Remo asked.
"I wondered if you would be sleeping until noon. May we leave now?"
"The sooner the better. Say goodbye to your buddy."
"Perhaps I should bring it along."
"I am not going to eat parrot," Remo insisted.
"I did not intend to share it with you," Chiun replied. "But I think not. Farewell, ugly bird."
The macaw hopped forward again and cocked its great head with its big yellow eye patches. Chiun stopped. Remo watched the two of them regarding each other.
"Hello?" Remo asked.
Chiun held up a hand for silence, which lasted a full minute. Remo stood there impatiently with the trunks balanced on his shoulders.