Encounter Group td-56

by Warren Murphy

  Amanda felt the hard fingers brush her swaying body through the material of her black jumpsuit. The fingers were hard like the blunt noses of bullets, yet they touched and kneaded her with just the right combination of strength and gentleness.

  Not thinking of anything but those fingers, Amanda let herself sink back into the desk top, where Remo's fingers worked her wrists until she felt her pulse quicken. Then Remo's manipulations became a long, delicious blur in Amanda Bull's mind until she felt the front zipper of her jumpsuit ease down. And then Remo was inside her, exciting her, pleasing her, questioning her.

  "The warhead," Remo asked through the white noise of her pleasure. "Where is it really?"

  "Aahhh... later," Amanda moaned.

  "Now, or I'll stop."

  "Uhh— no, don't stop! Please don't stop. Feels... good."

  "Only good?" Remo asked.

  "Meant great— feels great!"

  "There's a lot more to come," Remo said, "but only if you answer the question." Remo paused for a fraction of a second, which caused Amanda to grab him violently and begin grinding her body against his frantically.

  "No! I'll tell!" Amanda cried. "It's at Broken Arrow. In an oil field."

  "Where exactly?" Remo asked, resuming his rhythms.

  "Off highway— uhh— Broken Arrow Expressway—"

  "The rest of them there?"

  "Oohh— oow, yes! Yes, yes! Yessss." But Amanda was no longer answering the question. She was shuddering in the first real climax of her life and was oblivious to everything but the response of her body to that climax.

  She was still breathing heavily when she finally opened her eyes and saw Remo Williams standing there with a bored expression on his face, his clothes already replaced.

  Amanda zipped up hastily before she got back on her feet.

  "It— it was never like that before," she said foolishly.

  Remo nodded.

  "I told you everything, didn't I?"

  Remo nodded again. The disinterest on his dead features was plain. He had used her, Amanda realized. He had given her pleasure such as she had never before experienced— sexual bliss that left her still trembling— but it meant nothing to him.

  Amanda screamed. "You bastard!" And she pulled her pistol from the small of her back, aimed once, and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  "Check the safety," Remo said coolly, a spark of humor in the shadows that were his eyes.

  The safety was on, Amanda saw. She tried to thumb it off, but it wouldn't budge. She tried again, this time breaking her thumbnail.

  "I jammed it," Remo told her. "You'll never get it loose."

  "You bastard!" Amanda screeched again, and threw the weapon.

  Remo weaved on his feet, and the useless pistol looked as if it had gone out of its way to avoid hitting him, rather than vice versa.

  Amanda Bull tore out of the office, sobbing. Remo counted the number of photographs of flying saucers on the walls, and didn't leave until he got to 67.

  "You let the woman escape?" Chiun asked when Remo rejoined him in the waiting car.

  "Yeah," Remo replied. "She told me where the warhead really is, but I figured if I let her go, she'd try to warn the others and lead us to it quicker than if I tried to follow her directions."

  Remo coasted down the street slowly.

  "She went left," Chiun directed.

  Remo steered the car to the left. There was no sign of Amanda Bull, but then a brown van pulled onto the street ahead, and Remo recognized its custom body. It was the official FOES van, which Amanda had retrieved from where it had been ditched earlier.

  "We have them, no?" Pavel asked.

  "Let's hope," Remo said.

  "Where is she going?" Pavel wanted to know.

  "Place is called Broken Arrow," Remo told him.

  "Broken Arrow? See? I was right. I have helped you, but you wouldn't listen," Zarnitsa said.

  "I'm not listening now," Remo said.

  ?Chapter Seventeen

  When the Homestead Act opened up Oklahoma in the last century, the area called Broken Arrow had boasted of only two natural features: osage and Indians. Then the homesteaders came and started their cattle ranches and farms. Neither the osage nor the Indians vanished. They just sort of blended into the background. Broken Arrow had been a good place to raise beef. There was plenty of wide-open space and it was a short trek to nearby Tulsa, where cattle could be sold or shipped by rail to the hungry East.

  By all rights, Broken Arrow should still be that way, and it would be if the cattlemen hadn't found the land bad for farming. It was bad all around. In time, the cattlemen sold off their land and tried again in Arizona or Wyoming. Others, not as young or perhaps more stubborn, stayed on and were still there when the first oil was struck. But not many of them. So few, in fact, that even the Indians got to share in the oil boom. And so what was once cattle-grazing territory vibrated to the chug and creak of the oil derrick.

  By all rights, Broken Arrow should have remained a booming oil town, but even that did not last, as more of the black stuff was pumped out of the ground to be shipped to the oil-hungry East. While the wells did not always run dry, the ability of men to pump all of the oil out of the ground was not absolute. And so, one by one, some of the oil fields were shut down, not for lack of product, but because the oil lay so far underground, it could not be tapped.

  The building stood in the middle of one of these abandoned fields, among the silent and forgotten spidery towers and pipelines and the overpowering smell of crude. It didn't belong there, but then it looked as if it didn't belong anywhere.

  For one thing, it was blue— except for the door, which was a simple white panel on one side. There were no windows or any other ordinary features. In fact, there were no sides in the true sense because the structure was built along the lines of an Eskimo igloo and looked vaguely like a giant seashell lying on its side. But even that didn't describe the thing accurately.

  It was unusual enough that Amanda recognized it for what it was immediately even though she had not been given a description of the World Master's emergency retreat, just its general location.

  Amanda pulled the van off the road and walked through the scrub oak until she got to the white door. There was no sign of any other vehicle, which struck her as peculiar even in her present state, which was one of high agitation.

  The door slid aside as soon as she got near it, and she entered the structure. It was dark inside. The walls felt smooth to her touch, like the bottom of a Teflon-coated frying pan. Amanda followed the wall.

  "Stop, Amanda Bull," the baritone voice of the individual Amanda knew only as the World Master said. "You have come far enough. Report your success."

  "I— I can't," Amanda said in the gloom. "I tried... oh, honestly, I tried. But everything went... wrong. Everything has been going wrong all along."

  "Cease crying. Continue."

  Amanda swallowed. Somehow the darkness made her feel worse than she had been feeling. It seemed to enwrap her.

  "I told him the warhead was in the city, but— he tricked me. He found out the truth. I couldn't kill him— I tried to, but I couldn't— but I got away. I managed to get away somehow."

  "I expected that," the voice intoned.

  "You did?"

  "Of course. You were no match for this Remo. I expected him to lead or follow you here. This is where I will defeat him, for this place is designed to defeat any intruder."

  "What about the warhead? Where is it?"

  "The warhead has been activated and positioned. It will detonate in the city of Tulsa within three hours."

  "Good, I guess," Amanda said sickly. "What about the others? Are they here?"

  "Their usefulness has been fulfilled. Preparation Group Two has been rewarded. Just as Preparation Group One was..."

  "Dead?" Amanda asked weakly. "All of them?"

  "All that remains is their brave leader," the World Master said ironically. And he laugh
ed like a ghoul.

  * * *

  Remo waited for Amanda to disappear into the strange blue structure before he left the car, which he had parked in the early morning sunlight at the edge of the abandoned oil field.

  "I am coming," Chiun said, stepping out of the car, too.

  "No," Remo said. "You've got to stay with the Russian. Smith's orders, remember?"

  Chiun shook his head firmly. "Emperor Smith's orders are that I am responsible for him. That does not mean I am to be his babysitter."

  "We can't take him with us," Remo said. He was worried that Chiun might complicate matters when it came to a showdown with the World Master.

  "We will lock him in the trunk," Chiun said, dragging Pavel Zarnitsa out of the back seat.

  "I protest," Pavel said.

  "Me, too," Remo said. "He might escape."

  "Then I will incapacitate his legs so he cannot escape," Chiun returned. "It is important that I accompany you, Remo. I have unfinished business."

  "That's what I was afraid of," Remo grumbled. He turned to the Russian. "What'll it be? The trunk or your kneecaps?"

  "I think I will be very comfortable in the trunk," Pavel said through a forced smile as they put him in the trunk.

  There wasn't much cover near the round building. Remo and Chiun moved along the oil rigs until they were as close as they could get without being exposed. Remo, seeing no activity, began to move forward.

  "Wait," said Chiun. "It is a maze. I recognize the form."

  "So?" said Remo. "There's the door, and I don't see any guards. Let's rush it."

  "Yes," Chiun snapped. "Let us rush the door. Let us blunder to our deaths now, while there is still daylight. Why should we wait and carefully plan our attack when we can go impatiently to our deaths and end this terrible suspense?"

  "All right, all right," Remo said. "I'm listening."

  Chiun sat down amid the wild grass and placidly waited until Remo, heaving a sigh of exasperation, sat beside him. Chiun gestured toward the blue building.

  "Behold this structure, Remo," he said. "What does it say to you?"

  "Say? It doesn't say anything."

  "Wrong. Nothing in the universe is silent. All things have voices." Chiun pulled a long blade of grass from the earth and held it up so that Remo could see its roots. "This lowly blade of grass speaks to me. By the lack of dirt in its roots and by its yellow color, it tells me that if I had not plucked it and put it out of its misery, it would have withered away painfully."

  "So?" Remo looked around him. The thought had occurred to him that this might be a grazing area and he hoped he hadn't stepped or sat in anything unpleasant.

  "So this, dull one. That structure, by its very form, tells me that it is a maze designed to create difficulties for any who enter it. For it is a snail maze. There is only one entrance, one exit and one path, which winds around itself and ends in a central chamber."

  "That doesn't sound like a maze to me," Remo said doubtfully. "A maze has a lot of passages and blind turns and things like that."

  "That is a Western maze. A confused pattern designed by confused minds to confuse minds even more confused than they."

  "Huh?" said Remo, who was suddenly confused himself.

  "See?" smiled the Master of Sinanju, having proven his point by example. "A snail maze is an Eastern maze. Even the Russian would have recognized it. Now this is a pure maze. It is designed to force an intruder along a certain path, which is a spiral. The spiral path slows down the intruder so that he falls victim to traps or interception. Because there is no direct path, the intruder cannot by accident find a short cut. To one who is allowed safe passage or who knows the key, entrance is a simple matter. To intruders, it is often fatal."

  "I think I get it," Remo said. "This maze is designed to protect the man in its center."

  "Yes. It is he who controls the traps set along the path."

  "The World Master," Remo said. "He's probably got the warhead in that central chamber, too. Little Father, you know it is important to recover that warhead."

  Chiun nodded.

  "It may be that we will have to fight this World Master..." Remo said hesitantly.

  Chiun looked momentarily uncomfortable. "Once," he said, "there was a Master named Huk, who was summoned to the court of a king of Assyria."

  "Come on, Chiun," Remo interrupted. "We're wide open here. Do we have to go into a legend now?"

  "No, insolent one. We can squander the lesson of Huk, if your American genius has enabled you to understand what lies within the snail maze."

  Remo folded his arms and was silent.

  "Now, this king of Assyria was greatly worried. For he had heard rumors that a neighboring king was preparing to make war against him. A great warrior was the Assyrian king, and he possessed a mighty army which feared no enemy. But the reputation of this enemy king was great, for none had ever seen him, and it was rumored that he was not like other men. This king lived in a fortress composed of seven concentric rings surrounding his throne room. Each ring had its own guards, and each ring had a single advisor who controlled his ring. When someone wished to bring a message to this king, it was first given to the advisor who controlled the outermost ring, who passed the message to the next ring, until it had gone through all seven rings. Only the advisor of the innermost ring was allowed to deal directly with this king. For beheading was the penalty for any who set eyes upon him. Only he knew what his king looked like, and it was from him that the rumors about the king came. And these tales likewise passed through the ring until when they reached the ears of the king's subjects, they made the king seem to be more like a god than a man.

  "Great legends grew up around this king whom no one saw. That he was eight feet tall with skin the color and hardness of bronze. Some said he possessed three eyes, and the third eye could burn the life from any living thing. Others told that this king had four arms, each of which could wield any weapon with skill. It was also said that this king sometimes walked among his subjects unseen, for he knew the secret of invisibility, and all manner of strange happenings in his kingdom were explained in that way.

  "Now, these stories were told to Huk, whom the Assyrian king had contracted to penetrate the enemy king's fortress and dispose of him there, thus ending the threat of war. The Master Huk then journeyed to this fortress, which was in the land of the Medes, and on that journey, he thought long on the legends surrounding this king. Thus, by the time he stood before that fortress, he was frightened, for in truth he knew not what to expect beyond those walls. Not knowing which of the many powers this king actually possessed, he had to prepare to fight someone who possessed all of those powers. And not even the Master of Sinanju might prevail against such a one as described.

  "But the Master entered the fortress and dispatched the advisor and guards of the first ring. Then he passed into the second ring, whose guards were better trained. And these he vanquished, too. The third ring was more difficult still, but Huk prevailed.

  "Ring after ring the Master Huk passed through, each one more difficult than the last, until he at last came to the seventh ring, tired and wary. When he had vanquished the guards of the seventh ring, he captured its advisor, the one who alone was privileged to meet directly with the king. And outside the very throne room itself, Huk demanded of this advisor, 'What manner of being lies beyond this door?'

  "And this man replied in this way, 'Beyond this door lies a man unlike any other.' And that was all the advisor would say, so Huk dispatched him and prepared to enter the throne room. And he trembled, for the unknown lay waiting for him, and while the Master of Sinanju fears nothing that he knows, only a fool does not fear what is not known. Remember this, Remo, for it is important.

  "Putting aside his fear, Huk entered the throne room, where he found the king seated upon his throne. At first, he could not believe his sight and demanded, 'Are you the king I have come to slay?'

  "And the king— for it was he— said to him, 'I am king of this lan
d. But please do not harm me, for I am no match for you.'

  "This caused the Master of Sinanju to laugh, for the king's words were true. The king was a mere dwarf whose limbs were twisted by deformity. And Huk knew then that his fears were groundless and caused by legends deliberately created by the king and his advisors, who had concealed the truth through cunning methods so that this king would be obeyed by his awestruck subjects, who would otherwise have deposed him. And so, laughing at his own fears, Huk dragged this drawf king out of his fortress and exposed him for all to see."

  "Then he let him go?" Remo asked.

  "No. Then he slew him in front of his subjects as a warning to any who would dare attack Assyria."

  "Oh," said Remo, who knew there was a point to their story but couldn't see it. "That fortress was a snail maze, right?"

  "Wrong."

  "But the way Huk got to the throne room applies to the snail maze?"

  "Oh, Remo, you are hopeless. That has nothing to do with it."

  Remo looked perplexed. Finally, he said, "I give up. What's the point?"

  Chiun stood up abruptly. "Never mind," he said peevishly. "I have wasted a good legend. So be it. You will learn the lesson of Huk the hard way."

  Remo got to his feet. Why couldn't Chiun just come out and make his points in plain English? Sometimes these legends could be a royal pain.

  "Okay, how are we going to take this snail maze?" Remo asked.

  Chiun looked toward the maze, measured a distance from the single white door to a point directly north of it with his eyes, and walked toward that point. Remo followed.

  "The snail maze can be breached," Chiun was saying, "and because of that possibility, there is always an escape tunnel which leads from the center to the outside. It is always a prescribed distance north... ah, here." He upended a flat boulder, disclosing a dark hole. "This tunnel will be a straight line longer than the spiral path, but it will be guarded at its other end, Remo."

  "Yeah?"

  "One of us must take the snail maze to keep this Hopak Kay busy. The other will go by the tunnel."

  "Wanna flip for it?" Remo suggested.

  "No," Chiun said. "I do not. I will let you take the snail maze because you can learn from it. Remember that there are traps along the way. The rest you must discover for yourself."