“To keep this new power, the Loni must be worthy,” Chiun said. “And then soon there may be a new race of kings in this land. With the bravery of the Hausa, with the beauty and wisdom of the Loni.”
He looked now at Saffah. She looked at him and then, with tenderness, at Obode, then nodded to Chiun. She smiled and reached out her hand and placed it on Obode’s shoulder.
“People of the Loni, the legend is done. You may tell your children you saw the Master. You may tell them also he will return if ever man’s hand is set unfairly against you people whom I protect.”
With those words, Chiun dropped his hands and walked toward his hut. He picked Hillary Butler from the crowd, took her arm and led her inside with him.
Remo followed and found Chiun sitting on his prayer mat. Hillary Butler sat on the floor near him, just watching.
Chiun looked up, saw Remo, and said: “Where were you when I needed you?”
“You told me not to interfere.”
“Ah yes, but would a worthy son have listened? No. He would have said, ah, that is my father, he is in danger, nothing must stop me from saving him. That is what a loyal son would have said. It is the difference between good breeding and being something the cat dragged in.”
“Well, it didn’t really matter anyway. It was just a trick. Nobody stands on hot coals.”
“Come,” Chiun suggested. “We will go out and walk the fire together. It is done often in the civilized sections of the world,” meaning, Remo knew, the part of the world Chiun came from. “Japanese do it. Even some Chinamen.”
“But how?” Remo said.
“Because they are at peace with themselves,” Chiun said triumphantly. “They think of their souls instead of their stomachs. Of course to do that one must first have a soul.”
“Bicker, bicker, bicker,” Remo said. “It was still a trick.”
“The stupid never learn; the blind never see,” Chiun said and would say no more.
Remo turned to Hillary Butler. “We’ll get you started on your way home tonight.”
She nodded. “I want…well, I want to thank you. I don’t really understand all this, but maybe…well, anyway thank you.”
Remo raised a hand. “Think nothing of it.”
Chiun said, “You may be grateful…The Master has done what he had to do. This one…well, he did the best he could.”
Later, as they prepared to leave, Remo stood near the graying fire pit, and picked up a small chip of wood from the ground. He flipped it out into the pit of coals. The chip of wood hit, seemed to break up the steady pattern of heat waves for a split second, then flared into flame.
Remo shook his head. He turned, and saw Chiun standing there, smirking.
“There is still time for you to learn the fire walk.”
“Try me next week,” Remo said.
Remo, Chiun and Hillary Butler left the Loni camp that night with a hundred-man Loni escort, fourteen of them with no other responsibility but to carry Chum’s luggage.
Saffah and Obode bade them goodbye, then Saffah took Remo to one side.
“Goodbye, Remo,” she said. She began to say something else, stopped herself, said a word that sounded to Remo like “nina-upenda” and walked quickly away from him.
On the trail down the mountainside, Chiun said more to himself than to Remo, “I am glad we did not have to kill Obode.”
Remo glanced at him, suspiciously. “Why?”
“Hmmm?” Chiun said. “Oh, there is no reason.”
“There is a reason for everything you say,” Remo said. “Why are you glad we didn’t have to kill Obode?”
“Because the chief of the Hausa is to be protected.”
“Who says? Why?” Remo demanded.
Chiun was silent.
“Two-faced sonuvabitch. I’m going to get Smith to get the Washington pollsters to take the soap operas off again.”
Chiun considered this for a moment. “There is no need for you to punish an old man.”
“Then talk. Why was Obode to be protected?”
“Because when my ancestor many years ago left the Loni and they were overthrown…” Chiun paused.
“Get on with it.”
“He left to go work for the Hausa,” Chiun said. “For more money,” he explained brightly.
“Well, I’ll be. Talk about double-dealers,” Remo said. “Has any Master ever played anything straight?”
“You know not the meaning of such words,” Chiun answered.
“Yeah? Well, try this. Nina-upenda,” he said, repeating the Loni word that Saffah had spoken to him.
“Thank you,” Chiun said and Remo had to find out later from one of their guards that the word meant “I love you.”
It made him feel good all over.
About the Authors
WARREN MURPHY was born in Jersey City, where he worked in journalism and politics until launching the Destroyer series with Richard Sapir in 1971. A screenwriter (Lethal Weapon II, The Eiger Sanction) as well as a novelist, Murphy’s work has won a dozen national awards, including multiple Edgars and Shamuses. He has lectured at many colleges and universities, and is currently offering writing lessons at his website, warrenmurphy.com. A Korean War veteran, some of Murphy’s hobbies include golf, mathematics, opera, and investing. He has served on the board of the Mystery Writers of America, and has been a member of the Screenwriters Guild, the Private Eye Writers of America, the International Association of Crime Writers, and the American Crime Writers League. He has five children: Deirdre, Megan, Brian, Ardath, and Devin.
RICHARD BEN SAPIR was a New York native who worked as an editor and in public relations before creating the Destroyer series with Warren Murphy. Before his untimely death in 1987, Sapir had also penned a number of thriller and historical mainstream novels, best known of which were The Far Arena, Quest and The Body, the last of which was made into a film. The book review section of the New York Times called him “a brilliant professional.”
Also by Warren Murphy
The Destroyer Series (#1-25)
Created, The Destroyer
Death Check
Chinese Puzzle
Mafia Fix
Dr. Quake
Death Therapy
Union Bust
Summit Chase
Murder’s Shield
Terror Squad
Kill or Cure
Slave Safari
Acid Rock
Judgment Day
Murder Ward
Oil Slick
Last War Dance
Funny Money
Holy Terror
Assassin’s Playoff
Deadly Seeds
Brain Drain
Child’s Play
King’s Curse
Sweet Dreams
The Trace Series
Trace
And 47 Miles of Rope
When Elephants Forget
Pigs Get Fat
Once a Mutt
Too Old a Cat
Getting up with Fleas
Copyright
This digital edition of Slave Safari (v1.0) was published in 2013 by Gere Donovan Press.
If you downloaded this book from a filesharing network, either individually or as part of a larger torrent, the author has received no compensation. Please consider purchasing a legitimate copy—they are reasonably priced, and available from all major outlets. Your author thanks you.
Copyright © 2013 by Warren Murphy
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons—living or dead—events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Errata
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