"We need to save one, Little Father," Remo cautioned the Master of Sinanju.
"Why?" Chiun asked disdainfully. "America is not running low on fools."
"They might know something," Remo insisted. "And we've been crossing our wires on this lately. So just make sure you let me save one of them, all right?"
"You may do what you wish with yours," Chiun sniffed. "Just keep them away from mine."
As they argued, Major Healy's head bounced back and forth between them. He leaned back when he found Remo's extended finger pointing an inch away from his face.
"Just so we're clear on this, I'm saving Marvin the Martian here," Remo warned the Master of Sinanju. "Don't kill the one with the really stupid look on his face, okay?"
"I will do my best not to confuse him with you," Chiun said. "However, I make no promises."
"What do you mean, don't kill me?" Major Healy said, sneering. "In case you didn't notice, I'm the one with the weapon."
"Oh, yeah," Remo said. "Yoink."
All at once the major felt a lightness to his gloved hand. When he looked down, he found that his gauntlet was empty. More horrifying, when he glanced back up, he found where the handgun had gone.
Remo held the gun in both hands. "Haven't you heard toy weapons promote real violence?" he admonished.
As he spoke, he squeezed. The plastic that encased the handgun turned brittle and cracked. Underneath, the very real metal gun seemed to grow rubbery. With a groan of metal Remo twisted the gun until barrel kissed stock. When he was through, he tossed the horseshoe shape over his shoulder. The gun landed in the overflowing Dumpster on a pile of cardboard boxes.
"Swish," Remo Williams said, smiling.
A shocked expression blossomed on Major Healy's face. He fell back, bumping hard into the side of the black van.
"They are hostile!" he yelled. "Enforce directive two and eradicate the enemy!"
The other five men were arranged in a fanning arc. At the shouted order, the group tightened around Remo and Chiun. Gloved fingers clenched firmly on triggers.
The man nearest Remo almost fired. The instant before he did, he saw a flash of movement. The world became a blur.
Remo grabbed the gunman by the collar of his silver space suit. The man went from zero to sixty in half a heartbeat. So abruptly was he launched that the g-force pulled back his face into a smiling grimace as he screamed through air.
"To infinity and beyond!" Remo exclaimed as he swung the man straight into the side of the van. Van went bong. Head went splat.
"Pay attention," Chiun warned. "You will not lay blame at my sandals if the wrong fool turns up dead."
As he spoke, the old Korean's hands flashed out, long nails perforating the belly of the man nearest him. So fast and precise did they move that not a mark or tear appeared in the space suit. The man realized something was wrong only when he felt his organs grow heavy inside his suit. With an audible slurp, organs slipped from the razor slit Chiun had sliced in the man's abdomen. Like a frog negotiating its way through a snake, the wet bag of organs slithered into the thighs of his trousers. By the time the blood began to bubble out the tops of his boots, the man had already pitched forward onto the ground.
Remo was inserting the broad plastic end of a ray gun into another man's mouth. "Anyone wanna tell me who they work for?" he called to the others.
"Don't tell him anything!" the major commanded, cowering near the van. "We've got the prime directive to uphold."
"Suit yourself," Remo said, slapping the gun butt. The weapon formed a new holster in the gunman's cerebellum.
There were only two men left. Quaking in his space boots at the side of the van, Major Healy suddenly realized which way the solar wind was blowing.
"We're compromised!" he yelled, diving into the back of the van. "Initiate self-destruct!" Frantic hands rolled the side panel door shut.
Remo and Chiun had taken hold of the two remaining men. Human cargo in hand, Remo windmilled right, Chiun, left. When they let go, the men whirled like loosed tops. Twin spinning blurs, the two men twirled straight into each other, bodies meeting with a bone-shattering crunch. They struck with such force that their bodies fused into a single fleshy unit. An undertaker would need an electric carving knife to cut the men apart.
Remo spun away as the silver-wrapped bundle of arms and legs collapsed to the ground.
The van door through which Major Healy had disappeared remained closed. The cab was empty, the engine silent. As he approached the side door, Remo heard the sound of knees scuffing across the floor.
"Ground control to Major Asshole," Remo called, reaching for the silver handle. As he did so, he heard a small click from the interior. A roar flooded in behind it.
A few yards away the Master of Sinanju's weathered face flashed sudden alarm.
"Remo!" Chiun shouted. Even as he yelled, his kimono skirts were billowing as the old man raced for cover.
For Remo, it was already too late. The explosion came too fast for him to flee.
The van erupted in a ball of flame. And as the panels blasted apart with horrifying force, Remo felt his body being thrown back by the leading edge of the mighty shock wave.
Chapter 13
There wasn't time to dive for cover. No time to outrun the blast that had erupted from the van's interior. Remo didn't even try to fight it. There was no point. It would be impossible to resist a force so powerful.
When the hot leading wave pummeled his chest, he allowed himself to be flung backward, joining with the force of the fiery, violent surge of energy.
All around him swarmed deadly daggers of hot twisted metal. The remnants of the van moved with him, keeping pace. For what he had to do Remo knew there was no margin for error. He would either survive or he'd be shredded to hamburger by the shards of flying metal.
As he soared through the air, fingers of flame raced out after him, singing the hair on his bare forearms. No matter. The fire was irrelevant. The flames would recede before they caused any real damage.
The roof of his rental car flew beneath him. As it whipped by, Remo was already stretching out the toe of one loafer. He caught the upper door frame of the car.
Flex, push.
His speed increased. Even as the force of the explosion began to die he continued to accelerate.
The Dumpster flew up. Remo caught the lip with one extended hand, latching on tight. Up and over, he whipped behind the safety of the waste receptacle, his soles brushing lightly to the trash-covered ground.
Metal fragments pounded the far side of the Dumpster.
Beside him crouched a familiar wizened figure. "What, Remo, did you learn from the one you saved for questioning?" the Master of Sinanju asked blandly.
Remo's face was sour. "From now on I'm saving a spare," he groused.
The shock wave had passed. By the time Remo and Chiun stood, the explosion had rattled off into the woods behind the building.
The black van was little more than a burning skeleton of a frame on four charred wheels. The cooked remains of Major Healy jutted from his smoking silver space boots.
"Well don't that just beat all," Remo griped as Major Healy's burned body sizzled and spit.