The guards themselves sometimes wondered. But they never mentioned it to anyone. They were paid well for their silence, and so they never said a word about the mysterious gate and the back road that led to nowhere. Nor did they mention the fact that the only two men who never used the road were Dr. Sears, director of the Vaporizer project, and the strange, rude little janitor who rarely seemed to push a broom or mop and never spoke a word to anyone but Dr. Sears.
The gates were opened for the silent janitor. His Jeep was allowed to pass out of the secret compound. He stopped on the other side to make certain the gates were closed once more. Only once they were secure did he proceed down the road.
The hill grew steep for the next mile before leveling off. The jungle trees broke apart, revealing the acres that had been cleared for the Vaporizer. Lights from the sprawling complex cast a warm yellow glow to the dark night.
The janitor drove his Jeep around behind the main offices. There was a small one-story building near the rear fence. It was said to be for the custodial staff, although only one custodian was ever allowed to enter it.
When he drew to a stop in his personal parking space, the janitor's headlights sliced across a lone figure sitting on the steps.
The waiting man winced at the light.
The American scientist, Mike Sears, the public face of the Vaporizer project, wore a worried expression. He got quickly to his feet, hurrying over to the Jeep.
"I wasn't sure what to do," Sears said. "It was in the last shipment. They dumped it without knowing it was even there. I only saw it because I was in the booth up above."
Sears had placed a call to the janitor two hours before. Two hours of waiting anxiously for the man to return from above.
"Where is it?" the janitor asked in an accent that was neither Mayanan nor American.
Sears was clearly panicked. He was as white as a sheet.
"Here, I'll show you," he said.
He led the way to the Vaporizer. Both men put on a pair of special boots before going onto the deck. Sears had put the lights on bright, illuminating the pit. There was a pile of garbage far down inside. Sitting on top was a big piece of broken luggage. Half-spilled from the trunk, a twisted body lay wrapped in a white sheet.
The man who was posing as a janitor pursed his full lips. "Come with me," he commanded.
They hurried out the gate. Mike Sears helped roll the special scaffolding back in. The two men kicked out the locks, and the scaffolding unfolded into the pit.
Sears waited nervously on the edge of the Vaporizer while the other man climbed inside.
Inside the Vaporizer, the bogus janitor scurried over heaps of rotting garbage to the body. Taking the dead man's chin in his hand, he tipped the head, examining carefully. As he was doing so, something else caught his eye. He climbed over the edge of the trash pile, vanishing completely from sight. He reappeared a moment later. Climbing back across the awkward pile, he scampered back up the scaffolding. "Is it who I think it is?" Sears asked.
The other man was wiping his hands on a handkerchief. He was clearly more irritated than repulsed. "Is one of President's bodyguards," he replied.
Sears felt his stomach grow weak. "I thought so," he said. "He looked like one of the men who came with him to the unveiling."
"It is not only body," the other man said, stuffing his hanky in his pocket. "There is second one on far side. Also presidential bodyguard."
"My God," Sears said. "I didn't know what to do. I sent everyone home before anyone could see. I just- With up there and all-" He nodded numbly toward the mountains. "I thought it would be... Who do we tell?"
The other man spoke with clear authority. "No one," he insisted. "I will make call to inform those who need to know. In meantime, clean this mess."
"How-?" Sears began. "Oh. Oh."
He stared down into the Vaporizer pit. At the body lying pale and broken with the rest of the trash. "But shouldn't we...?" Sears began to ask.
But when he turned, the man who Mike Sears alone knew was not actually a janitor was already gone.
Chapter 18
Remo had showered and changed, tossing his soiled clothes out the window. After an hour of arguing about what they should do for dinner, the two Masters of Sinanju decided to eat in the hotel dining room. Around the corner from their hotel suite, they found a cell phone on the hallway floor behind a potted plant. Remo scooped it up.
"Hello?" he asked.
Nothing but dead air. Shrugging, he snapped the phone shut and slipped it in the pocket of his chinos. "Problem solved," he told his teacher. "Smitty says I should be able to get through to him on one of these gizmos."
They rode the elevator downstairs. On the way to the lobby it stopped on the fifth floor. When the doors opened, Remo was confronted by a familiar, surprised face.
Vlad Korkusku blinked in shock at the sight of Remo. One of the other SVR agents Remo had sent for a swim was with Korkusku. Both Russian agents took a cautionary step back.
"Is you," Korkusku hissed.
"Is leaving," Remo replied blandly, pressing the lobby button once more.
It was apparent that Korkusku and the other man didn't want to upset Remo. They smiled to prove that they were friends. When Remo got a close-up look at the products of Russian dentistry, he frantically pressed the lobby button. Everyone seemed relieved when the doors began rolling shut.
"I am not your enemy," Korkusku offered, leaning at an angle toward the closing door.
"Tell that to someone who hasn't smelled your breath," Remo replied. "You're taking the next car down."
Exhaling, Korkusku whispered something in Russian to his companion. Though Remo didn't understand the words, he knew the tone of guilt when he heard it.
"Little Father?"
"He says they kidnapped the woman and are holding her captive in a room down the hall," Chiun said, uninterested. He clucked unhappily. "We should have sent downstairs for a menu first. We do not even know the fish of the day."
Remo wasn't listening. His hand had already shot out, catching the doors just before they closed completely.
Korkusku and his companion had apparently heard the old Korean's loud translation of their worried whispering. When the doors rolled back open, the two men were already halfway down the hallway and running like mad.
Remo tore off after them. Frowning his annoyance, Chiun flounced after his pupil.
Korkusku had slid to a stop in front of a door. Frantic fingers fumbled at a key chain. When he found it, his shaking hands couldn't get the key in the lock. Which didn't matter because by this time Remo was on him.
"Knock, knock," Remo said, banging Vlad Korkusku's head into the door. The lock popped and the Russian agent and his companion toppled in onto the carpet.
The curtains in the big suite were drawn tight on the bright lights of the warm New Briton night. Beyond the living room was the open door to a bedroom. Sitting on a chair in the middle of the adjacent room was Petrovina Bulganin. Her hands were tied behind her back. Cords from the drapes bound her ankles to the legs of the chair.
Remo propelled Korkusku and the other man into the bedroom. A television flickered on a stand in the corner. On the screen a fire burned at sea. Orange flames licked the sky while an endless scroll of text moved on a bar from left to right. The CNN logo was plastered in the corner.
Remo ignored the television.
Four other men were inside the room. Three were Russian agents. The fourth and most prominent individual was a portly little teddy-bear-of-a-man who looked shocked at the sudden, tumbling appearance of Vlad Korkusku. His fear grew to anger when Remo and Chiun slipped into the bedroom.