A voice.
It was the American.
151
"Anybody home?" it called. "Ready or not, here . «,»!.,, ¦ a
we come " ' ltsa11 over' Elmo> the taI1 one said-
They had felt themselves drift into the boat, but
,. ,,, , . ...„ « No. No. Not now. Not ever,
up close, without the boat outlmed black against the
sky, they could not see it. He and Chiun climbed out of their small boat, going up the side of Wimpler's craft, finding handholds and toeholds where none
could be seen i knife struck the Oriental in the chest—hilt first.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Climbing over the • Damn.
side of the boat, stepping onto the deck, were those two from the park. The American and the Oriental. They had found him.
Elmo Wimpler shrank back into the shadows, crouching down in a corner of the rear deck. He couldn't let them interfere. Not now. Not when he was so close.
He waited until they were both on deck. Then quietly he drew one of his knives. They began to walk about the boat when he noticed something.
Their feet made no sound as they walked.
But normal men should have made sounds as they walked around a wooden deck. Were they . . . something more than normal?
He put the thought out of his mind. He had no time. He had to get rid of them and get on to the Emir.
He stood up and took a step toward the American. And both men turned in his direction as if they
had heard him. «I Now. Within easy reach.
He had made no sound. How had they known? ¦
The Oriental pointed directly at him and said: "There?"
How could they know?
over. Back to Wimpville for you."
He threw the invisible knife through the darkness of the night at the tall man, and the Oriental pushed the white man out of the way. Elmo watched as the
"A knife," the Oriental said. He saw the tall one nod. Elmo pulled another knife from his belt. Holding it in front of him, he charged the tall white man.
He didn't see the man's hand move, but something struck his wrist. The knife flew from his hand and over the side.
He rolled back away from the man and pulled his last knife from his belt. He stood perfectly still. If he did not move, they would have to come to him. And he was still the Shadow, the man who terrified other men, the man with the power of Ufe and death over others.
"He's standing still, Chiun," the American said.
"He is right there," the old man said, pointing directly at Wimpler. "He has another knife."
"A piece of cake," Remo said.
Elmo tightened his grip on the knife and licked his Ups. The Oriental moved closer to him on one side, the white man on the other.
Wimpler swung the knife with all his power, aiming for the old man's skinny throat. But suddenly the old man wasn't there anymore.
"You can stop moving," said the Oriental into the 152 I 153
blackness. "But you cannot stop breathing, and we can always find you."
Blinded with anger and frustration, Elmo swung at the robed man with his knife again, feeling even more fury as he sharply expelled his air before the thrust.
The Oriental easily avoided the knife.
Then the tall one was behind him. Wimpler looked from one to the other, one to the other. He swung the invisible knife wildly around him. But his breath came in loud puffs and the men avoided the knife slashes. It couldn't be. The greatest invention of all time was being nullified by his own goddamned breathing.
He threw the knife at the white man. It missed as the tall man ducked and clattered harmlessly against the side of the boat.
.. He couldn't let himself be caught. He couldn't. They would ruin it all. Make him visible. Make him a nothing again.
He couldn't stand that.
Elmo Wimpler stood up straight and bolted to the rear railing of the boat.
"Chiun, the rail."
Wimpler jumped off.
The impulse to jump had been blind and suicidal, but without intending it or even thinking of it, Elmo landed in the little, electrically-powered, fishing boat he had been towing. He had planned to use it to motor silently into the Emir's island. As he landed in a heap in the boat, he felt a sharp pain in his ankle.
He started the electric trolling motor and tossed off the small rope that bound him to the bigger
154
boat. Even this small boat had been treated with the invisibility paint and now they would never find him.
Remo sensed that Wimpler was jumping the rail. He was surprised when he heard a thud rather than a splash. He ran to the rail just as the electric motor started up. The son of a bitch had a small, invisible boat. Remo watched as the wake of the boat kicked up and it looked as if some giant, finned fish were swimming away from the larger boat.
"Chiun, he's got a boat. Let's get this thing started."
"Too slow," said Chiun. "He will be hidden in darkness by then. Swim."
Remo nodded and vaulted over the railing into the chilly, Atlantic water. He paused for a moment, then picked up the faint trau of the small boat's wake, slapping tiny pressure waves against his face. He straightened out his body atop the water and began stroking after the boat, making his body one with the water, letting the flow of the water surround his body and pull him with itself, stroking only to correct his direction.
Wimpler had looked back in time to see the tall man jump off the boat into the water. Was the fool actually going to try to catch him by swimming? Did he think he could outswim a motor-driven boat?
In disbelief, as he watched, the swimming man began to gain on him.
How could that be?
How could he swim faster than a boat?
And how could he see Elmo's boat to chase it?
155
He realized the answer to the second question. The man was following the wake of the boat and the
faint sound of the electric motor. His invisible boat ' Hewas conscious when he hit the cold water. His
was doing him no good. It pinpointed his position beautifully.
Wimpler had to try to outrun the swimming man who, incredibly, seemed to be gaining speed but wasn't even stroking. He turned the boat's rudder, pushing it into a large, curved swing, a circle. Remo stayed close behind.
The circle closed tighter and tighter around the bigger boat.
Wimpler had a plan. He found a small aluminum oar under his seat. He turned the boat again. He glanced behind him. Remo was following tight be-
hind his boat, only fifteen yards away. ' mouthÉledwithwater' He screamed- but '* was
This time, he turned the rudder of the boat sharply. The boat swerved inwards, and as Wimpler gave it maximum throttle it surged ahead, and raced straight on toward the larger boat. Wimpler waited a moment, correcting direction, aiming it at the large, black outline visible for a moment against the whitish clouds. Then he poised in the bow of his small boat. Suddenly, it rammed the bigger boat. Jarred, for a moment, Wimpler jumped up onto the deck of the larger boat, the oar raised over his head.
Chiun, in the corner of the deck, turned just as Wimpler raced for him, ready to swing the oar down atop the Oriental's skull. Then he would start up the large boat and race away from this swimming maniac who was following him.
Wimpler swung the metal oar at the Oriental's
head. It struck something. But then, like a pole
156 • 157
vaulter, Wimpler found himself thrown upward through the air, out into the ocean.
instinct was to try to swim. He had gotten only three strokes when his arms began to tire and his legs to feel heavy. He began to sink.
Panic.
The clothing he had used to fashion his outfit became heavier as it absorbed water but his great invention—his invisibility paint—began to expand and to form bubbles which began filling up with water. It was swelling, becoming cumbersome. He felt the growing size of it pressing against his arms and legs, making movements difficult.