He watched light glint off the liquid. So engrossed was he, Mark failed to notice that one of the shadows beyond the office window had begun to move.
Mark only realized something was wrong when he heard scratching at his back.
It was gentle. Like a tree branch blown by wind scraping across the office windowpane.
Still holding the vial of formula, he froze. The wind. That was all it was. Still, the sudden appearance of the scratching sound caused his heart to beat faster.
He reached slowly under his suit jacket. Even as he put the vial of formula carefully on the desk with one hand, he drew Dr. Smith's .45 automatic. Gun in hand, he switched off the lamp.
He didn't breathe. Two careful steps brought him to the window. With the lights off inside, he was able to see out more clearly. As he squinted into the dark woods, he saw nothing but the black triangle tops of waving pines.
There was nothing nearby that might have made the noise. The trees were too far away to be the cause. His palm was sweating cold on the pistol's walnut grip. Mark decided it might be wise to find Remo and Chiun.
He was taking a cautious step backward when there came a sudden blur of movement beyond the window. A cold shadow lurched up from the night. A face appeared, twisted in a grinning caricature of humanity.
Judith White's piercing yellow eyes locked on his. Mark's heart tightened. He whipped the gun up to fire.
And then the world exploded all around him as the big picture window came crashing down like a curtain of doom onto the floor of the small office.
"IT WAS right here," Remo said.
From the top of the stacked cases of water, he glanced around the warehouse. The bay door was still open on the night. The case of formula was nowhere to be seen.
"Forget your nonsense," the Master of Sinanju demanded. "Where is my songsmith?"
"Bugget's the least of our worries right now."
"Spoken like a jealous someone who was not about to have a hymn written extolling his greatness and sung by the comely Wylander. Did you frighten him off? Tell me, Remo, why do you find it so difficult to get along with people?"
"I had the world's greatest teacher," Remo said, hopping from the bottle stack down to the floor. "Jealous, selfish and hateful. I will remember that for your headstone, as well."
The Master of Sinanju's muttered complaints were stopped only by the muted sound that carried to their hypersensitive ears from the other end of the complex. "What the hell was that?" Remo asked.
"It sounded like a window breaking," Chiun replied.
The next noise that came to them needed no explanation.
A gunshot.
Exchanging troubled glances, the two men took off at a full sprint across the warehouse floor.
JUDITH WHITE POUNCED into the room behind shards of scattering glass. Mark's bullet missed her by a whisker. His first chance proved to be his last.
Judith grabbed his forearm, slamming his gun hand against the wall. He struggled to hold on to the weapon.
If he could turn the barrel just a little. Get one clear shot.
Judith squeezed his wrist. Mark's hand popped open and the gun fell with a heavy thud to the glass-strewn floor.
A hand too fast to follow snatched Mark by the throat.
Mark grabbed at her arm with both hands, trying to tear it away. It was too tight. It wouldn't budge. His oxygen was going. He was becoming light-headed. He saw Judith White reach out with her free hand. She grabbed up the vial Mark had left on the desk.
Popping the top with her thumb, she dipped the tip of her tongue into the thick liquid. Swishing saliva, Judith brought her mouth close to his. Her breath was vile.
"How about a kiss, darling?" Judith purred.
Her free hand pried open his mouth. It was easy now. The fight was gone. Even as his lips formed an O she was already spitting the sickly warm goo onto Mark's tongue.
She slammed his mouth shut and massaged his throat.
He knew he should resist. But the urge to swallow came anyway. She eased up the pressure just a little, and Mark felt the thick liquid slide down his constricting throat.
The world began to spin. She whispered a few quick words in his ear before letting him go.
As he fell against the desk, he caught a final glimpse of Judith White. She was crouching on the windowsill, the heavy BostonBio lab case dangling lightly from her hand.
She flashed a toothy smile.
"Be seeing you, precious," she growled. And then she was gone.
Mark reeled. Somewhere deep within him, he felt a terrible, primal stirring. His stomach clenched. He pressed both hands to his gut, trying to hold back the pain, desperately trying to hold on to himself.
His head whirled. The room danced a kaleidoscope across his double vision. Through it all, one thought passed over and over through his mind.
One arm. Remo said she had one arm. This Judith White had two.
They don't know. I have to tell them. Have to warn them.
But it was too much. Mark Howard felt all that made him human slip gently away. He fell. On the way to the floor, his temple cracked hard against the corner of the desk.
And a darkness greater than the cold, collapsed center of a dead universe washed over him.
Chapter 28
Remo and Chiun felt the draft of forest air the instant they burst into the Lubec Springs offices.
They raced up the hall to the open office door. The picture window was gone-shattered in a million pieces across the floor. A few shards stuck from the window frame like crooked teeth.
Afraid Mark Howard had been kidnapped, Remo bounded across the floor to the window. He nearly tripped over the young man. Howard was sprawled on the floor behind the desk.
Because Remo had not detected him the instant he entered the room, he was certain Howard was dead. But all at once, the younger man came back to life.
Howard sucked in a pained gasp of breath. Like a newborn testing its first gulp of air. His heartbeat seemed to reset. Like tumblers in a safe, the muscle fell click-click into a new pattern.
Remo had heard the pattern before. "Christ," he hissed.