"All movement is exercise. Even the smallest motion should be performed correctly."
"All right. This way?"
"A little better. Not Korean, but better."
"Didn't you hear me?" Elizabeth Drake screamed.
"We heard you," Remo said.
"The yak drivers of the Himalayas could hear her," Chiun whispered. "The elbow."
A trickle of sand sifted down onto the archaeologist's head. "Watch what you're doing, you cretins!" she shouted.
"Look, you want us to come get you or not?"
"I want you to get me alive, idiot. Are you using pulleys?"
"An insult," the singsong voice said.
"We don't need them."
Crackpots. Her life was being entrusted to two lame-brains trying to dig her out with their bare hands. Graduate students, probably.
"Look, don't do me any favors by giving me a swift death. I'll hang on. Go into Progresso and get some pulleys or something. Maybe a crane, if there is one. I'll hang on."
"I told you, we can get you out," the American said. He sounded annoyed. Well, she had a hell of a lot more to be annoyed about than he did, the punk.
"And I told you to get some pulleys. Damn it, do this right, you fog-headed baboon."
"Come, Remo. We will leave this ungrateful wench."
"No," Dr. Drake gasped. "Don't leave. Please don't leave."
"Do you promise to be nice?" came the taunting American voice.
I'll be nice, she thought. Whoever that weirdo named Remo is, he'll see how nice I can be. With a nice kick into his nice nuts. "Just get me out of here," she said levelly.
Not that they could do it. No machinery, no levers. It was just her luck to be discovered by two macho male chauvinists who thought they could move a mountain of rock unassisted.
She settled back. Wonderful. This was just great. She couldn't be allowed to die quickly, by the guns the natives carried, oh, no. She couldn't die in the earthquake. The rocks that crushed the maggot-eaten thing on her right had to miss her. She wouldn't die of starvation. No. In the bizarre twists that fate had offered, she would survive all of those things so that she could be murdured by two half-wits trying to rescue her.
Well, fine. So be it. She was too tired to argue anymore. And the Valium was giving her a little buzz— not much, just enough to take the edge off a violent death. Screw it. She was going to lean back and get some sleep. It would be nice if the end came while she was unconscious. She'd always hoped to die in bed.
Then, just when things were swirling around her head nicely, the back fell out from behind her. She tumbled backward into fierce light. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust. The air was fragrant, moving. Sounds of wild creatures were everywhere, chirping, croaking, calling. She even thought she could hear the river. And the light, once she got used to it, was not blazing sunlight at all, but the soft, diffused light of the deep jungle. She smiled. Overhead were the fat leaves of eucalyptus trees and jungle rushes and... people. Two faces were staring down at her, one dumb-looking skinny young guy and an Oriental so old, he looked as if he were going to crumble to dust any second. And now a third face entered the strange picture above her, framed against the black foliage and the blue sky: a child. Native, Mayan stock. Huaxtec, probably, judging from his build and facial characteristics. A resident of the Quintano Roo region, most likely.
"Are you archaeologists?" she asked.
"We are assassins," the old one said.
That was it. Even valium wouldn't help now.
"What'd she start screaming for?" Remo shouted above the woman's wailing.
"Because she is female," Chiun said.
"Is she hurt?" Remo quickly pulled her out through the opening, prodding her ribs and limbs. The screaming continued unabated. "Do you think she's in pain?"
"Who can say?" Chiun said, shrugging. "Women always feel pain, whether it exists or not."
"Let's get her over here, in the shade." Remo pulled her under a tree. "Now calm down, lady. You're all right."
Dr. Drake stopped screaming abruptly and looked up at him. "You're going to kill me, I suppose," she said.
Remo looked over to Chiun, then back at the woman. She was beautiful, lean and tall, with green eyes and blonde hair pulled up into an unkempt knot. It was the kind of thick Nordic hair that, under better circumstances, would be spilling over bare shoulders and onto her firm, big breasts between expensive sheets. A classy woman, lots of style. But nuts.
"Now, would you mind telling me why I'd go to the trouble of saving your life if I wanted to kill you?" Remo asked, exasperated.
"He said you were assassins," she said, looking warily at Chiun.
"That is true," Chiun said. "But it is not the honor of everyone to be assassinated by us. Most are unworthy of our talents. Especially foolish females who want to be rescued by machines."
She sat up, flushing. "Look, I was only saying—"
"The next time your life is in danger, we will send you a tractor."
"You two are impossible," she said hotly. "The fact of the matter is—"
"She's all right," Remo said.
"I am talking to you, mister," the woman spat.
"Remo. The name's Remo. This is Chiun. The kid's name is Po. Now introduce yourself like a civilized person, or we're going to leave you right here."
Her eyes flashed. Her mouth opened, ready for assault. But Remo had already turned away. "I'm Elizabeth Drake," she said haughtily.
Remo smiled. "Nice to meet you, Lizzie."
"It's Elizabeth. You may call me Dr. Drake. I'm an archaeologist."
"Oh, yeah. I heard the name. You and your buddy were digging around this place."
"Dr. Diehl?" she asked excitedly. "He's alive?"
"He's alive. It looks like you two are the only ones who made it out of here." He walked over to the wreckage of the Red Cross helicopter and surveyed the damage. No survivors. None on the ground outside the temple, either. The bodies lying beneath and around the fallen rocks were in an advanced state of decomposition. Some of them still showed evidence of strange wounds, huge holes that seemed to have burned clear through their targets.
Diehl was right, Remo thought. The weapons were lasers. He had seen that for himself. And they had attacked the Temple of Magic.