"Night tigers," Remo supplied.
"Precisely. The legend states that even Shiva must walk with care when he passes the jungle where lurk other night tigers."
Remo considered his words for a long moment. Finally he looked down into the intent hazel eyes of the Master of Sinanju.
"Lucky for me this isn't a jungle," Remo said. And before the old Korean could stop him, he opened the door and passed like a shadow inside.
For an instant, Chiun remained.
Still young. Still arrogant. There had been times in the past when the most hazardous time for a newly invested Reigning Master were those first years as head of the village. The world was never more dangerous than when it seemed to no longer pose a threat.
All this and more did pass through the troubled mind of the Master of Sinanju in an instant. Praying to his gods that his words had had their desired impact, Chiun twirled through the gap in the door and was gone.
Behind, the police who had been tensed for an attack were jarred by the sudden disappearance of the two FBI men, as well as by the sudden sharp slamming of the metal door.
Somehow the keys came to a sliding stop at the feet of Sergeant Jimmy Simon. His eyes strayed from the keys back to the closed door. He shook his head. "When they get through with you, we're gonna need sponges for the remains," he announced.
Struggling over his wide belly, he stooped to snatch up the keys.
THE FETID AIR inside the lockup was thick with the smell of death. Remo and Chiun kept their breathing low. All the cell doors were ajar. The police had thought it safe to put normal prisoners in the lockup as long as they were separate from the more dangerous ones. With the keys taken from the late Officer O'Reilly, the creatures had made a feast not only out of the unlucky young police officer, but out of their fellow prisoners as well.
Greedy chewing issued from the dank corners of some cells. Sharp snaps came as strong jaws cracked brittle bones.
As Remo and Chiun made their way from the door, both men sensed hungry eyes tracking their every movement.
Noses keener than those of mere men fed the scent of fresh prey to watering mouths. Yellow feline eyes stared unblinking from out the shadows.
"You know the story of Daniel?" Remo whispered as they crept along. The cells opened right and left along the long corridor.
Chiun nodded. "Yes," he said. "And do not believe every Bible you pick up off the sidewalk."
A soft growl rose nearby.
"Sue me for finding comfort in a story where a guy who's tossed to the lions gets out alive."
"Find comfort in whatever nonsense you wish on your own time," Chiun commanded. "For the moment your unwillingness to accept the obvious has dragged me into this pit, so pay attention."
No sooner had the old man spoken than Remo felt a sudden displacement of air to his right.
There were six creatures growling within the nearest cell. As Remo and Chiun passed, one launched from the pack.
Until that morning, Remo's attacker had been an investment counselor who had spent an hour every night pumping away on a treadmill. The powerful legs his nightly workout had given him launched him from his jail cell bunk. He flew from the dark, fangs bared.
Outside the open cell door, Remo noted blandly that the man was coming in pretty fast. But for the Reigning Master of the House of Sinanju, pretty fast was not fast enough.
Remo watched the man come, gauged his speed and-at the last possible moment-slammed the cell door into the lunging creature's head.
Steel bars went clang, head went crack and the former investment counselor collapsed like a high-tech mutual fund after a lousy fourth-quarter-earnings report.
Instantly the five other creatures inside the cell surrounded the body. One kicked at the unconscious male with an experimental toe. When he didn't object, the five creatures began to nip and claw. As a pack, they began to tear off his clothes. They were growling and devouring chunks of flesh as Remo turned from the cell door.
"This might be easier than I thought," he said grimly to the Master of Sinanju.
His reply came not from Chiun but from farther up the cell block.
"Don't bet on it, kitten," purred a female voice. Remo glanced over.
Elizabeth Tiflis stood in shadow two cells away. Her arms were crossed lightly. A knowing smile toyed at the corners of her very red lips.
There was still a gleam of deep intelligence in the eyes of the Vaunted Press employee, unnerving since it was clear she was something far more savage than man.
A few feet away from where she stood, six more creatures paced back and forth. Their yellow eyes stared with a predator's malevolence at Remo and Chiun.
"Who ordered chink food?" one of the females asked, her voice a throaty purr. Her hungry gaze was locked on Chiun.
"Quiet," Elizabeth commanded.
She had seen Remo's speed with the cell door. Elizabeth understood they were dealing with something different here. The creature Elizabeth scolded fell silent.
"Okay, here's the deal," Remo said. "We've had experience with your kind before, and there might be something that can be done to help you. But that doesn't mean we won't stop you if we have to. Now, you're not getting out of here, so why don't you be a nice kitty and get back in your cage?"
The harshness of Elizabeth's features melted into a malevolent, Cheshire-cat grin.
"Who says we want help?" she said. "Besides..." Slowly Elizabeth raised her hand. Around her slender index finger jangled the ring of cell-block keys. "You're fast, sweetie," she said. "But I can let them out as quick as you can lock them up."
This time it was Remo who smiled. "Don't bet on it, kitten."
But even as he spoke he saw the slight nod from Elizabeth. The creatures behind her took the cue. A symphony of furious growls rolled up from six throats as the animals launched from the floor.
Unlike Elizabeth, they didn't view the two frail humans standing stock-still on the concrete floor as anything other than an easy meal. Humans were puny. Humans were weak.
Humans were also-apparently-missing.
The six pouncing creatures landed in the precise spot where dinner had stood only to find that the two men were no longer there. Curious growls rumbled up six throats.
When the nearby voice came, sounding like the voice of death itself, the creatures jumped in fear. "The Master of Sinanju is not a meal, lowly beasts."
The pack wheeled. Chiun was there, already moving.
The old Korean grabbed two creatures by the scruffs of their necks and hurled them deep into an open cell. They tumbled in a heap of limbs onto a bunk.
"Make that Masters," said Remo, who was suddenly among the pack. A pair of elbows found two soft bellies. With a violent expulsion of vile breath, two more creatures flew into the cell, knocking back the first pair, which had scurried to their feet and were heading back for the door.
"Score two for the great white hunter," Remo said. Panicked now, the final two attacked blindly. Jaws snapped viciously, teeth eager to tear flesh.
They chomped down on empty air.