Eldon Sluggard saw something entirely different. He saw the guard turn as if on a revolving plate. And as if set on the same plate, the two interlopers turned with him. Exactly, precisely with him, as if they knew his moves an instant before he did.
Now the security chief was staring frantically, the two men standing calmly behind him. The Oriental turned his head and with a mischievous expression laid a quieting finger before his lips.
"Where?" the guard wailed.
"Right behind you!" Sluggard howled. "You said that. I don't see anyone."
"That was before," Sluggard cried. "Now they're where you were."
"Here?" asked the guard, turning. He waved his oaklike arms in the empty air in front of him, as if his quarry were invisible.
"They're gone." Eldon Sluggard gasped. For when the security chief had turned, the two had moved with him.
"Don't be silly," Victoria snapped. "They're behind him again. It's just that we can't see them. Watch and I'll prove it."
Victoria Hoar walked to the end of the room. The two were obviously skilled in some kind of advanced stealth tactics. Perhaps something like the old ninja warriors used. She knew that when she got to the other side of the quaking guard, they would be visible again.
They were not. For once, Victoria Hoar's composed features broke into shocked lines.
"They vanished!" she gasped.
"What did I tell you?" Sluggard said angrily.
"Where are they?" the guard cried. He acted like a man who had been told a thousand sniper rifles were being trained on him. He didn't know which direction to fear most.
"All right, you two. You win. Ah have a security problem. Ah admit it," Eldon Sluggard called.
The sound was like a tree being struck by lightning. Later, Eldon Sluggard swore he had actually seen the jagged flash in the conference room, but that was impossible.
But what all three occupants of the room later agreed to was that there was a loud crack, and when they stopped blinking, the conference table was falling in two long sections as neatly as if a buzz saw had been run along its length.
Standing between the two falling sections were the tall white man and the little Oriental. The Oriental wore a green robe that was decorated with yellow nightingales.
"Who ... who are you?" Eldon Sluggard stammered.
"My name's Remo. Remo Cleaver. And this is Chiun. We're your new heads of security."
"Over my dead body," the former head of security barked.
He drew a bead on the Oriental's head. The Oriental whirled, his kimono swirling like a cheerleader's poodle skirt, and his hand swept out.
The security chief felt the impact on his weapon. It was a light touch, exactly the kind of a blow he would expect from a frail old man. Ineffectual.
Grunting a relieved laugh, he took aim again. The old Oriental simply retreated to a clear space and folded his arms into the wide sleeves of his kimono. The guard pulled the trigger.
Click.
Must have been a misfire, he decided. He pulled it again.
Click click click, went his .357 Magnum revolver. "They couldn't all be misfires," he said stupidly. He went to break open the cylinder. It was then he recognized what the problem was. There was no cylinder. There was instead a square frame where the cylinder had hung.
"I believe this is what you seek," the old Oriental said, plucking the missing cylinder from a sleeve.
"Give it back," the security chief said hoarsely. Raising his weapon like a club, he charged the old man. The Master of Sinanju shrugged. He flicked the cylinder away with a delicate finger. The cylinder flew across the room, caught the guard in the solar plexus, and carried him to the far wall. The wall TV set shattered and the security chief poured to the floor like so much melting taffy.
The old Oriental turned to the Reverend Eldon Sluggard with a serene expression on his wise face.
"We can discuss salary requirements later," he said.
"You're hired," Eldon Sluggard said quickly.
"Of course," said the Master of Sinanju, bowing.
"One question, though."
"Yes?"
"Why me? Ah mean, why are you volunteering to help me out. Ah had-or thought Ah had-the finest security force money could buy."
"We heard about your problems with the Iranians," Remo told him. "We thought you could use our special skills."
"It was his idea," the old Oriental put in. "Remo was attracted to this task because of his newly rediscovered religious beliefs."
"Born again?" asked the Reverend Eldon Sluggard, smiling.
Remo gave the old Oriental a glancing frown. "You could say that," he admitted.
"Sometimes I think he was born yesterday," Chiun inserted archly.
"Well, then, welcome to God's country!" Reverend Eldon Sluggard said expansively. He put out a bejeweled hand. Remo shook it tentatively. Chiun pretended not to notice the gesture. Sluggard recovered quickly. "Victoria, why don't you show these fine folks to their quarters while Ah take care of that matter we discussed."
"My pleasure, Reverend Sluggard," said Victoria Hoar. She was not looking at Eldon Sluggard when she spoke. She was looking at the man who called himself Remo Cleaver. A dreamy smile alighted on her face.
"Don't be long, though," he said pointedly.
"Of course," Victoria Hoar said in a vague voice. "Absolutely. "
Frowning, the Reverend Eldon Sluggard left the room. His muttered "bitch" floated in his wake.
Chapter 12
The Reverend Eldon Sluggard stormed onto the set of his Get with God program. A skeleton crew of gaffers and camera operators was busy preparing for the next broadcast taping.
"You're early, El," said Win Jymorski, the show's director.
"Get everything together. Fast. We're taping another Cross Crusade spot."