Churchers back to the hangar. Whatever he's doing in there, he's managed to shift their loyalty away from Esther."
"It's a drug," Remo said, remembering the yellow smoke.
Buffy nodded. "I'm not surprised. I avoided going back there myself. I've only seen Kaspar a couple of times. He keeps to himself in that building. Along with an endless parade of mysterious visitors."
"I know about them," Remo said dismissively. "So you're saying Esther isn't in charge anymore?"
"Correct," Buffy said. "But that's not the half of it. While everyone else was setting up cameras and bombs for your arrival, I finally snuck a peek inside the temple. You've heard about the Thermopolis kidnappings?"
Another coughing spasm racked Remo's lean frame. He nodded as he blinked back welling tears. His eyes were becoming hot.
Buffy's face was grim. "I've only picked up the story a little at a time from supervised trips for provisions into Thermopolis. Esther doesn't allow newspapers, TV or radio inside the camp. You knew Senator Cole was from Thermopolis?"
"I got that impression," Remo managed to say as another coughing spell subsided.
"While you were sleeping, I've been catching up on the news," she said, indicating the television with a nod. Her voice grew grave. "Kaspar has kidnapped Senator Jackson Cole's daughter. There's no telling what this means, but it's big."
"It means," said Remo, "that it's time to shut the Truth Church down."
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Smith listened attentively to Remo's report on the secure line to his Folcroft office.
"It's all tied in, Smitty," Remo said. "The Truth Church, Kaspar, the kidnappings. Now they've got Cole's daughter. I just don't know why."
"Leverage, perhaps," Smith said. "Kaspar employed dirt to remove T. Rex Calhoun from the race. It may be that he hopes to extort Senator Cole into stepping aside, with the senator's daughter as the lever."
"That's pretty far-fetched."
"It is possible that he hopes the kidnapping alone will be enough to force Senator Cole from the race." A sudden fit of coughing from Remo caused the CURE director to pause. "Are you all right?" Smith asked.
"Fine," Remo said, clearing his throat. He felt the malevolent presence lurking at the back of his mind. He sucked in two deep breaths to clear his mind. The ensuing wave of heavy coughing doubled him over on the motel bed.
"Are you ill, Remo?" Smith asked urgently. He couldn't remember the last time his enforcement arm had been sick. But the deep, rasping cough coming over the line sounded like that of a lung-cancer patient
"Never better, Smitty," Remo said, but the sarcasm was lost in another series of muffled coughs.
Smith found himself involuntarily clearing his own throat. "In any event," he said, "it is clear that Kaspar is a danger that must be dealt with."
"I'd like to oblige you, Smitty, but I've run into a little problem out here."
"Explain."
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As Remo went into the details of the previous night's events, Smith grew intrigued. He was shocked that anyone would be able to hurt Remo with a common firearm. But he was astonished that the Truth Church denizens once more anticipated Remo's impending arrival. When Remo told him of the girl in Kaspar's temple, Smith's tone grew more incredulous.
"The girl spoke of the Oracle of Delphi?" Smith asked after Remo had finished.
"And something about Apollo's Pythia," Remo added. "Isn't Apollo some kind of Roman god?" As he spoke, Remo felt something subtle and insidious slipping like an early-morning fog across the back of his mind.
"Greek," Smith corrected. "Apollo was the son of Zeus. He was the god of light who drove the chariot of the sun in Greek mythology. He was also the god who gave people the gift of knowledge of future events."
"You're kidding." Remo grew dizzy. His eyes were suddenly heavy lidded, as if he hadn't slept in a year.
"In ancient Greece, Delphi became the religious center of the empire because of the oracle there," Smith supplied. "Is it possible, Remo, that the intoxicating effects of this yellow smoke caused the Cole girl to speak as she did?"
"Possible?" Remo growled, trying to snap out of his mental fog. "Smitty, it was pretty damn obvious that's what was going on."
"What?"
Remo suddenly sat bolt upright on the motel bed.
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He clutched the phone in his now sweating palm, making warm imprints in the plastic casing.
Something appeared before him. Remo wasn't sure if it was real or in his mind. It was a field of inky blackness spreading limitlessly in every direction.
"Sinanju is mine!" a voice that was not Remo's boomed from his throat.
"What was that?" Smith demanded over the line.
Smith could have saved his breath. The phone had slipped from Remo's fingers as he slumped, unconscious, to the bed.
Buffy Brand, who had remained in her chair across the room for Remo's entire conversation, jumped up to check his pulse. Satisfied that he was still alive, she lifted the receiver to her ear.
"Your man is hurt," she said.
There was a momentary pause on the line before a lemony voice spoke. "Who is this?" the voice demanded.
"It doesn't matter," Buffy said. "I'll give you instructions on where he is. You can have somebody come and collect him. I'm going back for the Cole girl."
This time the man on the other end of the line paused only a beat. "That is inadvisable," the lemony voice said. "If my man, as you call him, failed, it is unlikely that anyone else can succeed."
"It doesn't mean that no one else can try," Buffy Brand retorted.
But she spoke the words with more confidence than she felt. Buffy Brand had seen Remo in action. They didn't make them like Remo in the Bureau. Or anywhere else.
Chapter Eighteen
"What the hell were you thinking?" Esther Clear-Seer screamed. She had learned from CNN—which she picked up via satellite in her ranch house in spite of her strict ban on such devious outside influences—that the latest virgin she had harvested was none other than the only child of the state's senior senator.
Esther thought she had recognized the girl from somewhere. Now she realized that it was from the numerous campaign appearances she had made with her famous father, Senator Jackson Cole.
"You are distraught," Kaspar said indifferently. He had removed the tripod and the grate from above the rock fissure and was climbing down to retrieve the heavy rock urn. As she had since the previous night's events, Lori Cole sat rigidly on the top steps of the Pythia platform.
"Of course I'm frigging distraught!" Esther yelled. "You made me go out and collect one of the highest-profile kids in this backwater state! What, do you want me to go to jail?''
"I want you to stay in line," Kaspar said tersely. There appeared to be a crack in his usually unemotional facade. He hefted the heavy urn in his frail
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hands and was forcing it up to the top of the platform. He strained beneath the great burden.
"Stay in line?" Esther said. "What do you mean, stay in line? Didn't I go out and get you all the girls you wanted?"
"Didn't you resolve when you collected this one that it would be your last?" Kaspar said. Sliding the urn to the platform, he nodded toward the catatonic girl on the steps.
Esther's eyes grew wide in surprise. "How did you know that?" she demanded.
Kaspar shook his head. "You have no idea what we have unleashed here, have you?" he said, pushing himself back up to the platform.
"I haven't unleashed anything but a huge nightmare," Esther said. "Cole's daughter," she muttered bitterly to herself. "I never should have let you come in here."
"You were destined to be the one to help my master."
"I don't believe any of that hocus-pocus," Esther said. "Any deal I made with you was purely business."