It was as if Chiun hadn't heard. "As for the advertisements themselves, I find them distracting when I am trying to watch a program. Can we put them somewhere else?"
MacGulry moaned. His headache was worse. "Like where?"
"Do you know those sporting things where fat men with plastic hats run into each other?"
MacGulry scrunched up his face. "You mean football?"
"Yes," Chiun sniffed in displeasure. "Those people obviously do not care what they are watching. Put the excess selling moments from my program there."
MacGulry wondered briefly how it would be possible for network television to stick more commercials into a football broadcast. Then he no longer cared because he was pushing himself to his feet. His bones creaked.
"I need a break," the Vox CEO announced. "There's a fridge behind the bar. Help yourself."
Without another word, he stormed into his office bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
He leaned on the ceramic ledge of his whirlpool and took in a deep breath. He hadn't even exhaled before the phone rang.
"Why have you suspended negotiations?" Friend's warm voice asked.
"I'm taking a crap, okay?" MacGulry snapped. "Can't I take a bloody crap in peace?"
"Robbie, you're doing no such thing. You are sitting on your whirlpool wasting time. Why have you left your office during these crucial negotiations?"
MacGulry looked around, eyes finally settling on the red light of the security camera in the corner of his private bathroom. Friend had insisted that one be installed in virtually every room in the Vox building. Most weren't hooked up to the lobby system. MacGulry used to wonder where the images were being sent.
Realizing he was no longer and probably had never been alone in his most intimate moments, the Vox CEO sighed.
"If you know I left, then you know why," MacGulry said. "I'm giving away the bloody store in there."
"Money well spent," Friend said. "Our work in Harlem has successfully lowered the price of BCN stock. Soon you'll be able to buy that network, folding it into the News Company family. The financial gain of the Vox-BCN merger will far outweigh the cost of bringing the Asian over to our side."
"I can't just settle with him. It goes against my nature, mate."
"Robbie, it goes against my nature to kill a useful ally. Killing an ally who has outlived his usefulness is another matter altogether."
MacGulry squeezed the phone tight. "I'm tired of your threats, mate," he growled. "I'm your public face, and I know why. You don't have one, do you? I knew it for sure when I hooked up that computer chip. That's why you were gone so long. These guys you're after busted you up. Now you want revenge, but vou can't do it in person because you're not even a person. You're just a voice on the phone. You need someone who can go out in the world for you. You need me, mate, so back off on the threats."
It felt good to finally stand up to that arrogant bastard. He had hoped for a rise out of Friend, but the voice on the telephone remained smooth and calm.
"Please do not overestimate your importance to me, Robbie. Television is only one component of my diversified business interests. And while I intend to build a global super-network utilizing my cryptosubliminal technology, the head of that network doesn't have to be you."
MacGulry deflated. "What about the other part?"
"The fact that I'm not human?" Friend asked. "Yes, Robbie, that's true. Does it bother you?"
"Not as much as I'd have thought," MacGulry said glumly. "I felt the same way about most of my four ex-wives, but I went and married them just the same."
"Good," Friend said. "Now, to prove to you that we're still friends, I'm going to do you an enormous favor. I'm going to save your life."
MacGulry's look of depression flashed to confusion.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, Robbie, that it would be wise for you to immediately go to your secure avenue of escape. I will do my best to keep you safe en route to the basement garage."
Friend didn't sound concerned. He issued the warning in his usual chipper tone.
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I've just observed the arrival of the Caucasian in the lobby. Judging by his stride and facial expression, I have determined a seventy-four-percent probability that he is angry about something. Possibly, we reached his friend Harold with our signal. I would imagine he's here for the Asian."
"I'll get security to stop him," the Vox CEO said. "Don't bother. He has just incapacitated three lobby guards."
Robbie MacGulry couldn't believe it. Could three men be wiped out just like that? But then he realized he was standing in his bathroom with a phone, a camera and a computer voice who had been secretly directing much of his business affairs for the past thirty years. Anything was possible.
Panic set in.
"What do I do?" MacGuhy begged.
Friend's voice was as smooth as a newly frozen pond.
"Run, Robbie. As fast as you can."
Chapter 20
Remo dumped the three lobby guards into an elevator, sending them for an unconscious whirlwind tour of the Vox building's exciting subbasement. He got aboard another elevator, riding it up to Vox's executive offices.
He noted more security cameras when he stepped off the car on the thirtieth floor. There had been others downstairs, another in the elevator. He ignored them all, gliding with angry purpose to the main desk.
"MacGulry's office," Remo said to the pretty young woman who was flashing him a cover model's smile.
She seemed deeply disappointed that the thin young man she had just met hadn't come to see her. "Oh," she said, lower lip pouting wet and warm. "Mr. MacGulry is in a meeting. If you want, you can wait in my bed." She realized she'd misspoken. "I mean, in my apartment," she corrected. "Wait, I mean in the waiting room," she amended. "You can wait in the waiting room." Pausing a split second, she looked him up, then down. "Who am I kidding, I mean in my bed," she admitted, throwing up her hands in surrender. "Wait, let me get you my keys."
As she ducked to retrieve her purse, Remo skipped around the desk and headed up the hallway.
More cameras were there. They recorded the action as he kicked in door after door. He was met mostly with screams and startled looks. When he kicked in the last door to a corner office, he found the Master of Sinanju standing near the window, hands clasped behind his back.
The old man didn't turn. His weathered face was reflected in the tempered glass.
"'Hark,' I asked myself when the building began to shake," the wizened Korean said. "'What is that din? What child is having such a fit of temper that he would disturb an entire building full of people? How indulgent must be his parents that they would allow this childish tantrum?'"
"I was looking for you," Remo said. "I should have figured it wouldn't be hard. Just follow the traffic jams. Okay, Chiun, you've shut down Manhattan with flat tires and tow trucks. You've had your day's fun. Let's go."
"I will do no such thing," Chiun sniffed. "You looked for me, you found me. Now go look for someone who wants to be found."
Remo didn't budge. He glanced around the big office. "Where's MacGulry?" he demanded.