"Sun! Sun! Sun!"
Clapping gleefully, Roseflower joined the chorus of chanting voices. Veins bulged on his reddening neck as he screamed the name of the Sunnie cult leader.
Remo shot a look at the Master of Sinanju.
Chiun had not joined in with the crowd. His hands were tucked inside the voluminous sleeves of his sea-green kimono. Yet even though he did not cheer, his face belied his elation. Hazel eyes danced merrily as he stood on tiptoe, trying to catch a first glimpse of the Reverend Sun.
None of them had to wait long.
All at once, the head of the Korean cult figure began to rise siowly and majestically above the crowd. it was a perfect fluid motion. Sun did not mount the stage in the jerky fashion of someone climbing stairs.
A few dozen yards away from the cult leader, Remo's finely tuned ears picked up the sound of gears grinding over the crowd noise. Sun stood on a small elevator platform.
The shoulders appeared, then the rest of the torso. Sun wore his usual business suit. A white alb was pulled over the conservative blue jacket.
The robe was open in a wide V-shape that extended down to the gathered waist.
"Sun! Sun! Sun!"
The screaming grew more intense. The Sunnie leader reveled in the accolades of his wild-eyed disciples. He raised fat hands in a gesture of triumph above his head.
Everyone in the stadium had gotten to their feet. Men and women in the stands stood cheering, as well, their voices raised along with those on the field waiting to be married.
To Remo, it was like being in the middle of someone else's mad dream. He looked around at the sea of zombielike faces. Grinning, beaming. Screaming.
Even for someone like Remo, who had seen much that was alarming and horrifying in his life, standing in the midst of the crowd of frenzied Sunnie disciples was a truly terrifying experience. It was not a fear of injury or death. Remo had been trained beyond both of those childlike things, The frightening characteristic of the Sunnies was their blind devotion to a man whom the rational world knew to be a fraud.
At that moment-as he gazed out upon the sea of rabidly devoted disciples-Remo Williams knew that these demented followers would kill for their leader. Man Hyung Sun need only give the order.
"Friends in the Sun!"
The Reverend Sun's voice boomed out over his screaming flock. Flapping pink saris continued to wave victoriously as the Sunnie throng grew hushed.
"We are gathered here today for a most joyous occasion!"
The brides and bridegrooms cheered as one. Almost three thousand voices rattled across the stadium.
"We must remember that this occasion," Sun continued when the crowd had quieted once more, "while joyful-is also one most solemn!"
Remo sidled up to the Master of Sinanju. "Don't get in my way for the bouquet, Little Father," Remo warned beneath the continuing amplified voice of Sun.
"Must you make a mockery of even sacred ceremonies?" Chiun asked. He was still standing on tiptoes, trying to see Sun more clearly.
"Come on," Remo said. "This is about as sacred as one of Liz Taylor's weddings. In fact, she's probably here somewhere. Don't you find this all a little bit over-the-top?"
"It is not my place to question the wisdom of a holy man," the Master of Sinanju replied.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Sun was still speaking. Feedback squealed occasionally from the tinny speaker system as he continued with the mass wedding ceremony.
As the cult leader was lecturing his followers on the solemnity of the vows they would take this day, Remo began to notice an odd movement taking shape within the crowd.
He wasn't quite sure how he became aware of the men. It was as if some sort of internal trip wire had been struck.
When his unconscious mind steered his conscious mind to the strange intruders, he saw that there were six of them.
No.
Seven ...eight. Eight in all.
They wore white robes minus the blue sashes of the rest of the grooms. But these men had no brides next to them. These were not the only differences between the new arrivals and the grooms, however. These men were armed.
"Chiun," Remo said, his voice low.
"I know," the Master of Sinanju replied, his face stern.
"Eight?"
Chiun shook his head. "Nine. Beyond the stage." He nodded beyond Sun.
The ninth man in white was just threading through the crowd of couples. Like the others Remo had seen, he was moving in the direction of the stage. By the way he walked, it was obvious he had some sort of weapon hidden beneath the folds of his flowing white garment.
"Catch up with you on the other side," Remo said.
Nodding, Chiun split away from him. The elderly Korean moved swiftly toward the right, across the first-base line and onto the crowded infield.
Remo had already moved off in the other direction. He cut a path directly for the first man in white.
". ..must appreciate the importance of the church in every aspect of your lives together. There is no individual. There is no couple. There is only Sun ...." the cult leader was proclaiming from the stage. His voice boomed out across the stadium.
"Don't we have an inflated sense of self?" Remo muttered sarcastically to himself as he slid between pairs of beaming Sunnie brides and grooms.
The nearest moving robe had vanished in the sea of couples. Remo allowed his instincts to guide him through the knot of people. On automatic, his body brought him in a direct line to intercept the would-be assassin.
Passing a thick cluster of people, Remo came out several yards away from the stage. On the other side of the crowd within the crowd, the first white-robed man emerged.
He was Korean. Remo spotted it straight off. The man's sleeves were wider than those of the other Sunnies. In the next moment, Remo realized why.
A gun slid expertly down the length of the sleeve and into the killer's waiting hand. A rustling at the chest of the robe, and the other hand, which had been concealing the gun, slipped back down the other baggy sleeve.
It was a K-50M. A North Vietnamese knockoff of a Russian Tokarev.
Remo flew over to the man.
The free hand snapped a banana clip into place. Turning toward the stage, the Korean assassin brought his gun barrel up and around, aiming at the fleshy face of Man Hyung Sun.