Chapter 30
Trooper Dan MacGuire couldn't believe what he'd just been told. There was no backup coming. Eyewitnesses had confirmed the initial reports. Killer scientist Dr. Judith White-who had murdered a fellow Massachusetts state trooper no less-was suspected to be at large in this very area. And there were no other police units being sent in.
The place should have been swarming with cops by now. But the only people here were civilians. Even news people were being kept out of the area. Although some police had been deployed to Chelsea, it had been to cordon off the area. They were sitting this one out.
This lunacy was all because of some crazy, mysterious order out of Washington. No one even seemed to know where the command had originated.
And while the brass tried to figure out what the hell was going on up the chain of command, Dan MacGuire was left hanging. A lone sitting duck for the deranged, gene-sucking tiger woman of BostonBio.
Well, not entirely alone. There was always the skinny guy from the Department of Agriculture and his two-thousand-year-old assistant. If push came to shove, they'd be a big help, Dan thought sarcastically.
His negative opinion of the two agriculture men wasn't altered by their sudden appearance around the side of the warehouse across the street from MacGuire's unmarked car.
The trooper had been sitting in his sedan, door open, black-booted feet planted on the road. He rose from the vehicle when he saw the two men appear.
They came at him much faster than men should have been able to travel on foot. They were both flying along as if Dr. White were hot on their heels.
MacGuire quickly pulled his side arm as they approached, half-expecting to see a loping Judith White racing in for the kill behind them.
Remo and Chiun flew out of the parking lot and across the street, racing up to the parked state police car.
MacGuire had his gun leveled at a point behind them. But there was nothing there.
"Where is she?" the trooper shouted, crouched and alert as they soared across the street. His gun swept left, then right. Still nothing visible.
"Where'd that scream come from?" Remo demanded, skidding to an abrupt stop next to the trooper. Alert eyes raked the immediate area.
"Scream?" the trooper asked, confused. "What scream?"
Remo ignored MacGuire. "It was over here somewhere," he said to Chiun.
"What scream?" MacGuire repeated. He lowered his gun as he glanced from Remo to Chiun. "There," Chiun decided, pointing to a large warehouse.
"Could be that one," Remo replied, indicating the next building over.
"Yes," Chiun agreed, "but this one is closer." Dan MacGuire's head bounced back and forth between each man as they spoke.
"Somebody screamed?" the trooper asked.
"Okay." Remo nodded. "Big one first. You take the front-I'll take the back."
Chiun hesitated a fraction of a second. Given what had happened during his pupil's first encounter with Judith White, he didn't want to abandon Remo now.
Remo sensed his teacher's unease. "Look, I'll be fine, Chiun. Really."
The hesitation passed. Nodding, the Master of Sinanju set his frail shoulders firmly. "Remember, my son," he intoned. "Man holds dominion over all beasts. And you are far greater than any mere man. You are Sinanju."
Remo smiled tightly. "I'll do you proud, Little Father," he assured his teacher,
"Aim for an attainable goal," Chiun retorted. "I will be satisfied if you do not get yourself killed."
With a sharp nod they separated, each tearing off to an opposite end of the warehouse.
Trooper MacGuire could only stand by his car and watch as the two men flew away from him at impossible speed. Not a single puff of dust rose in their wake.
"Who screamed?" MacGuire yelled helplessly after them.
SHE HAD TO WORK QUICKLY.
Judith White gathered up a few more test tubes from the one case she'd carried to the warehouse. She slipped them into the front pockets of her slacks, careful to keep the old-fashioned corks in place.
There wasn't a lot of the formula to go around. And what she had was inferior to the solution she'd used on herself. This was only the original mixture. A poor substitute for her refined blend. But while it didn't have the same long-lasting effects as the formula she'd taken, it would be good enough.
She had almost dumped the older stuff out after her breakthrough with the newer formula. Lucky for her, she hadn't. Right now, she was glad to have it.
Bent low at the waist, she ran through the empty rooms at the back of the warehouse. Light streamed in through the dust-smeared windows, filtering down through the thick canopy of green-turning-to-orange autumn leaves.
The woods that grew up around the small tributary that fed into the larger Chelsea Creek had been her refuge for much of the time during her change. It was through them that she'd carried the many bodies buried in the basement.
As with all animals, the jungle had a powerful draw on Judith White. It was a haven. The thick cover meant safety.
But there were things to do first.
She needed to create more like her. Needed to give herself more of an edge.
Though her heart pounded madly, it was no longer from fear. It was the thrill of action that impelled her.
Judith leaped over a few old crates, landing softly in the interior of an old office. She paused, sniffing the air.
She was about to move on when she heard a noise. A footfall sounded through the thin wall to her left. A branch cracked beneath the tread. Someone was coming through the woods.
Another victim.
The window in the office was partially open. Judith White hopped lightly to the sill. Careful to not break the glass tubes in her pockets, she eased herself to the moist ground outside.
The figure she saw creeping through the woods surprised her. He was familiar. She'd watched him arrive from her rafter in the attic.
He was oblivious to her presence. Too easy. Slipping one of the vials from her pocket, she palmed it. On confident, gliding paws, she stole quickly up on the newest unsuspecting member of her superior species.
THE MASTER OF SINANJU HAD waited long enough for Remo to reach the rear of the building. He was stretching one hand to the door of the warehouse when he saw a flash of movement in the woods at the back of the neighboring building.
It was a fleeting glimpse. But it was enough. Whoever it was moved much faster than a normal human being. So quickly, in fact, Chiun's well-trained eyes almost didn't detect the motion.
The figure had darted out of sight in an instant. He paused, considering for a moment if he should not go back and collect Remo.
This whole affair had been a strain on his pupil. The attack by Judith White would not ordinarily have been enough in isolation to cause Remo concern. But Chiun knew that he had dredged up long buried memories of his last encounter with one of these tiger creatures. Remo's old fears could blind him to the current problem. A single distraction at the wrong moment could prove fatal.
And something else had apparently not occurred to Remo during this time of crisis. For years, Chiun had tried to convince Remo that he was the fulfillment of a prophesy that asserted that a Master of Sinanju would one day train the avatar of Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction. This dead night tiger would be brought to fullness in Sinanju.
To Chiun, Remo was fulfillment of the legend. However, for most of their association, Remo-in his typical white, Western, lunkheaded way-had deemed the legend "a big, fat, smelly load of doohickey." Nonetheless, Chiun persisted. Certain factors in recent years had caused Remo to argue less strenuously against the prophesy. In a very small way, he had allowed the glimmer of a possibility that the legend might actually be true. It was a step in the right direction, as well as a step to fulfilling the legend.
But there was another aspect to the ancient story. As the dead night tiger trained in Sinanju, it was said that Shiva could only be sent to death again by his own kind.