"Come on," Remo said, holding her. "That's too much for one person to handle all at once. Just try to forget about it for a minute, okay?"
"I can't forget. I've got to…" Involuntarily she sipped a mouthful of air as Remo's fingers played on her shoulders. Their grip, was delicate and tentative at first, then grew stronger as they began to work away the tension that gripped her body. There was something soothing and comforting in the motion of his hands. Karen felt her stomach unknot. She felt a warm glow, first of contentment, then of desire.
She wound her arms around Remo's neck. Their lips brushed together, and she felt as if a flash fire were consuming her. She murmured a few incoherent words before the animal part of her mind blocked out all the useless thoughts that kept her away from the man who was bringing her senses to life. There would be no more thinking. Her body had taken over. A spirit flying free for the first time, her desire had its way. In Remo's arms she felt as free as a bird, soaring and diving among the clouds.
Spent, she slept in his arms. She was small, and to Remo she felt as light as a little girl.
Then another twig snapped.
"What was that?" Karen gasped, immediately awake.
"Now, don't start that again." Remo held her tightly.
"But I heard something."
"So did I. It's probably just another raccoon."
"Or something larger," Chiun said, rising as if he were floating off the ground.
"Will you cut it out? She's scared enough," Remo said.
"I will see." The old Oriental walked softly across the clearing.
"Freeze it right there, slope."
Remo and Chiun turned toward the source of the unfamiliar voice. When a man clad in black stepped into the clearing, Karen screamed. "It's them," she squeaked. Her hands shook violently.
The soldier was big, bigger than Remo, with powerful shoulders and a broad, craggy face. The Uzi submachine gun he was holding was pointed directly at Chiun.
Out of the corner of his eye, Remo saw seven more men fan out around the campsite. They were dressed in black as well, each one carrying a snub-nosed Uzi. They moved well, as if accustomed to the mechanics of ambush. Silently they formed a wide circle around the four civilians, sealing off all exits.
Remo glanced over at Wolfshy. The Indian groaned once in his sleep, turned, and opened his eyes groggily. "Hey, what—"
One of the soldiers thrust his weapon toward Wolfshy's face. Wolfshy sprang backward on his elbows with a yelp.
"Take it easy, Sam," Remo said quietly. He didn't move a muscle. "What do you want?" he asked the soldiers.
"The girl. Hand her over."
"You— you can't do that," Wolfshy stammered.
"Shut up, jerk. If I want any shit, I'll squeeze your head." He raised the Uzi into firing position. "The girl. Now. Otherwise the old gook gets it between the eyes."
"She is not yours to take," Chiun said.
"Oh, no?" The team leader's eyes shone with amused malice in the moonlight. "Just watch me."
He began to squeeze the trigger. Then, suddenly, the weapon was no longer in his hands. The frail-looking old man was beside him. The soldier felt his body being lifted in the air. A moment later, a wave of pain engulfed him, and then there was nothing. His lifeless body slid down the granite wall against which it had been crushed.
The other soldiers were still for a moment, unable to believe what they'd just seen. But they were well trained, and their reflexes were fast. The soldier nearest Wolfshy spun to fire at the Indian's head.
Remo saw the beginning of the movement as soon as the soldier's feet started to turn. He leaped diagonally toward him, feet first, and landed square in the man's chest. The weapon clattered against the trunk of a tree as a bright spurt of blood shot from his mouth.
In the same motion, Remo grabbed Sam Wolfshy and tossed him into the air, out of the line of fire. The startled Indian grasped a large branch and scurried to safety near the trunk.
Another of the soldiers came after the girl. He had her by her hair when a thin, yellowed hand with long fingernails slashed across his face. He shouted in pain, his hands covering the bloody blankness that used to be his eyes. With another razor blow from Chiun's delicate hands, the man was dead.
The others ran. They knew the woods, but Remo was faster than they were, and his vision was better. Within seconds he'd broken the back of one of the men and smashed the skulls of two more. He heard a sound and, turning, saw Chiun behind him, delivering a knifelike chop to the last soldier. The blow was so perfectly executed that its movement seemed effortless and slow. Chiun's hand, extended in a plane from the billowing sleeve of his robe, glided like a piece of metal toward the soldier's throat. When it struck, there was a snap of neck bones and the quick bounce of the man's head. And then, as if the old hands were knives slicing through paper, the head fell cleanly off the body in a spray of blood and rolled down the mountainside. The rest of the body twitched once and then came to rest on a carpet of pine needles.
When it was all over, the old Oriental put his hands back into his sleeves. He kicked the soldier's fallen Uzi and sent it clattering down the rocky slope. A burst of gunfire shattered the silence a moment later.
"Shoddy merchandise," the Korean said.
Remo hunkered down and examined one of the bodies. "Army-issue clothing dyed black," he said. "And they moved like soldiers, too."
"Perhaps your government has changed the color of its military uniforms," Chiun offered. "I never did think they were appropriate. That green," he made a gesture of dismissal, "so close to the hue of monkey excrement. Black is better for warrior's garb."
"Maybe," Remo said, "but I don't think these guys are from any branch of our service. Veterans, maybe. Probably mercs. The leader talked like an American."
Karen stepped up behind Remo and rested her hand on his shoulder. He could feel her shaking.
"Don't look at this," he said. He led her back to the clearing. "Are you all right?"
She nodded. "But I have to go. I've got to get to the police."
"Okay," Remo said. "Sam'll take you in the jeep." He looked around. "Sam?"
"Will somebody get me down?" a quavering voice requested from above. Remo looked up and saw Wolfshy waving at him from the branch of the ponderosa pine where Remo had deposited him.
Remo made a half-turn and a second later Wolfshy felt himself floating to the ground.
"Say, where did you guys learn that stuff? That's some incredible shit."
Chiun glared at him. "It is Sinanju."
"Far, far out," Wolfshy said admiringly. "How long does it take to learn something like that? I've seen those ads in the backs of magazines. You know, the Quick Way to Killing Power… Thirty Days to a Better Build, things like that. You just mail in the coupon—"
"It takes a lifetime," Remo said.
"Longer, if you're white," Chiun added.
"Well, I'm red. I bet I could pick that up in a couple of weeks. I was watching. It's all in the wrist, isn't it? If I just—"
"If you just shut up, you can take Karen into Santa Fe," Remo said.
"Uh-uh, no way," Wolfshy said. "She'll be safe going down the mountain. You guys might need me."