He found it wrapped around a copper antiarthritis bracelet with rubber bands. He pounced on the phone. After three rings, a hard voice answered.
"Yeah?"
"Mr. Eradicator?"
"Maybe." The voice was guarded.
"You probably won't remember me, but we had a meet three or four years back."
"You're right, pal. I don't remember you."
"Let me finish. I wanted a certain party taken care of. A certain famous party. A singer. Is it coming back?"
"Yeah. Sunglasses. Square face. Bangs."
"That's me."
"I meant the victim."
"That fits him too."
"If you've changed your mind, my rates have gone up."
"Yes and no. I don't want that particular party hit. Maybe later, if things work out. But your Soldier of Fortune ad said you handle military ops too."
"What have you got?"
"There's an island in the South Pacific. I want to take it over. You know, do a Marlon Brando."
"This island got a name?"
"Er, not yet," Shane said evasively. Better not mention Mu. Military types were notoriously unenlightened.
"I don't get you."
"It's a tiny island." Shane Billiken was talking fast, making up his facts as he went along. He needed this man. "Kind of a paradise. Just natives there. No army, no government. "
"Don't discount native fighters. I've seen well-armed professionals gutted by fishbone knives. I'd rather take a dum-dum slug in the face anytime."
"I have a ship, but I need a team. They have to know sailcraft. "
"How long a ship?"
"Actually, I haven't measured it yet. But the salesman said I'd need a five-man crew."
"I can deliver. But can you meet my price?"
"Sure, I'm loaded," Shane said enthusiastically. He regretted it a moment later when the man who advertised himself as Ed the Eradicator quoted a price that was five hundred dollars more than Shane Billiken's current bank balance. And that wasn't counting the money he owed on the boat.
Shane swallowed twice before he burbled, "No problem." What the heck, he'd make it all back soon enough if the cosmic flow went his way.
"When the money is deposited in my Swiss account, we have a deal."
"Give me the number. I'll make the transfer the minute we disconnect."
"Then you've got your invasion team. How soon do you want to move?"
"The ship is ready to sail. It's at the Malibu Marina."
"Give me a couple of hours to work out the details."
"Sure. One thing, though."
"Yeah?"
"Can you swing by my place? I could use some help with my luggage."
Chapter 15
The High Moo led the Master of Sinanju and his freed slave from the lagoon to the very heart of Moo. They walked up the long mangrove slope where coconut palms waved above expanses of steaming turtle grass. He led them past the rice fields. The farmers were called from their work by the royal priest. Remo noticed that they were very young. Most of them were children. They laid down their hoes and adzes and followed, chanting one word over and over: "Sinanchu! Sinanchu!"
Chiun beamed with pleasure.
"See, Remo? Proper respect. You would never see this in America."
"You don't see bare-breasted girls in America. And I don't see them here either."
"Have patience."
They were escorted to high eminence on the far side of the island. Here and there, great bamboo-framed holes gaped from the dark slope like the sockets in a skull.
"These are my metal mines," said the High Moo proudly. "The greater number of them lie beyond the city where the ground rises sheer from the water. There, workers dig for the metal that makes the coins which bear my visage."
"I have seen these coins," said Chiun. "They are very fine coins, wonderfully cast. And the likeness is remarkable."
"Thank you," the High Moo said proudly. "I knew that the coins my daughter carried would bring you here."
"Truthfully," Chiun returned, "I was not enticed by your coins, fine as they are. I came to meet the High Moo, to join again my house with your house in the bondage of happy service."
"Liar," whispered Remo in English.
"What does he say?" the High Moo demanded.
"I said, I'm anxious to meet the young maidens of your village," Remo replied in Moovian.
"He speaks Moovian?"