The two Sinanju masters. It had to be them. Up until now fate had finally been kind enough to supply him with all the tools and targets for his great act of vengeance.
"Can it be undone?" Feyodov demanded.
"It'd be tricky to do fast," the Barkley professor replied. "But I think I could do it."
Feyodov looked rapidly around the area. As Horowitz studied the monitor, the general quickly stooped. His fingers wrapped around a length of half-moon steel piping that encased the thick cables running along the edge of the tunnel. Picking up the five-foot-long section of pipe, he hauled back. With a triumphant grunt he bashed the hunk of steel viciously into the back of Melvin Horowitz's head.
Blood splattered across the monitor. Horowitz slumped forward, toppling sideways out of his chair. Feyodov didn't even seem aware of what he had done. The pipe slipped from his fingers, clanging to the metal floor. His gaze was locked on the red-flecked computer screen.
Eyes ever alert, the former general watched as the digital timer flashed rapidly down to zero.
BEFORE THE BULLETS even started flying, Remo knew his body was out of whack. Not wanting to give opportunity to error, he grabbed the first protective shield he could find. Fortunately, it was a bulletproof Kevlar vest. Unfortunately for its owner, it was still wrapped around his body.
"Don't shoot, don't shoot!" screamed Oleg Shevtrinko as his black market compatriots trained their weapons at him.
The men down the tunnel didn't seem to hear him. They continued firing, trying to hit the target beyond their confederate. Bullets thudded into Oleg.
"Ow! Ow! Stop it! Stop shooting me!" Oleg yelled as round after round pounded into his chest. Remo held the squirming Russian at arm's length like a knight's shield at the Crusades.
"Excelsior!" he yelled as he charged down the tunnel.
Chiun and Anna followed close behind. Weaving and ducking, Remo harvested bullets from the air like autumn fruit. By the time they reached the group of Russians, Oleg's organs had been pounded to jelly.
Remo tossed the dead man unceremoniously to the floor. Like twin hurricanes of unbridled fury, he and the Master of Sinanju fell on the group of suddenly panicking Russians.
Beefy shoulders yielded arms. Thick necks surrendered heads. In seconds a grisly pile of twitching appendages was mounded on the cool steel floor.
Remo finished the last black market soldier with a heel to the jaw that sent the man's head spinning like a lead ball on the elongated end of his elasticized neck.
As the body fell, he twirled to the Master of Sinanju.
Chiun stood ankle deep in body parts.
The old man seemed no worse than he'd been a few moments before. But given his reaction the previous day, there was no telling how strongly he'd be affected if he was standing this close to the weapon when it discharged.
It would be easier if he just got out of there, but there was no sense wasting time arguing.
"We better do this fast," Remo said.
He hadn't taken a single step when a thought occurred to him. Glancing around, he saw only the Master of Sinanju and the stack of Russian bodies. There was no one else in sight.
When he looked back to Chiun, his deep-set eyes held a glint of fresh concern.
"Where's Anna?" Remo asked warily.
WHEN ANNA ROUNDED the corner she saw the lone figure standing anxiously over a distant computer monitor.
So entranced was he with the action on the screen that Boris Feyodov didn't even notice her. The body of Professor Melvin Horowitz lay at his feet.
Anna had never been one to shrink from doing that which was necessary. With Remo and Chiun undoubtedly closing in behind, she would have to act quickly.
Raising her rifle to shoulder level, she fired. Down the tunnel the former Red Army general didn't have time to react to the sound before the bullet struck.
It bit straight through the arm, burying deep inside his rib cage. The single shot sent him sprawling. He fell into the arc of white sunlight that spilled into the tunnel from the open top of the Huitzilopochtli statue.
Feyodov instinctively began crawling across the patch of light, out into the open-air safety of the stone statue. With wild eyes he looked back over his shoulder. When he saw Anna Chutesov approaching, his face grew more panicked. He braced a hand against his side to staunch the flow of blood.
"It is too late!" the general cried, still crawling.
Tables and consoles prevented Anna from getting another clear shot. She hurried after him, gun raised. Far along, Feyodov pulled his hand away from the wound.
Blood. His blood.
A new look of deep fear flooding his sagging features, he flopped out into the hollow of the massive statue.
Anna would have continued after him if not for the strong hand that suddenly latched on to her elbow. Wheeling, she found Remo and Chiun standing behind her.
"Let's do this fast," Remo pressed.
"That was Feyodov," Anna insisted, struggling to break free of his grip. "I cannot let him escape."
"Dammit, Anna, stop making friends and help out here," Remo snapped. "He's not going anywhere. And you're the one who keeps saying the whole world's gonna go kerplooey."
The urgency of his words hit hard. The fight draining from her, she hurried over to the last console. Bracing her gun against it, she slipped into Melvin Horowitz's seat.
"The system is locked to fire," Anna announced after a cursory examination.
On the screen the counter flew below the sixty-second mark. Nearby television screens displayed images of the space shuttle on its Florida launch pad. "Pull the plug," Remo commanded.
"It isn't a hair dryer with a cord plugged into the wall. To dismantle it would take time we do not have."
As Anna's mind raced desperately for a solution, Remo glanced at the Master of Sinanju.
Sweat had broken out across the old man's forehead.
Anna's earlier assessment had been right. Because of his advanced age, the Korean was feeling the effects worse than Remo. Not that the younger Master of Sinanju was immune. Remo doubted either of them could survive if they were this close to the weapon when it discharged.
"You better get out of here, Little Father," Remo insisted. "Anna and I will take it from here."
"If it cannot be stopped, there is no point in any of us staying," Chiun replied.
It was true. Remo nodded agreement, turning to Anna. "He's right," he said. "Let's amscray." Anna had been looking desperately around the area. From where she sat she had a partial view of the statue's wide interior. A sliver of blue sky was visible at the top. Near it, something glimmered with reflected light.
She spun excitedly to Remo.
"The mirrors!" she announced. Breathlessly, she pointed up to the very top of the slender tower that stretched up from the floor at the center of the stone statue. "Shatter them and the beam will be unfocused."
Picking up the thread, Remo looked up the tower. "Done," he said. He whirled to the Master of Sinanju. "Get Anna out of here, Little Father. I'll see you on the other side."
Anna was about to object when she felt a firm hand grab her around the waist. In a trice she was up on the Master of Sinanju's shoulder and the old man was bounding back into the depths of the long tunnel.
Alone, Remo raced out into the belly of Huitzilopochtli.
As he flew across the floor, his internal clock told him there were only forty-nine seconds remaining. Boris Feyodov had made it as far as Zen Bower's body. His breathing ragged, the general lay next to the ice cream man's corpse. Blood gurgled from between his dying lips.
At Remo's appearance, Feyodov's eyes rolled open.
"You come to me at last," the old general coughed. Wincing in pain, he pressed his hand more firmly against his bleeding side. His pale fingers were already stained red.