“I never heard of the
“They'll hear of the
Upstairs Beatrice was now fully realizing she was going to have to leave the estate. Rubin knew this because anything she wasn't taking she was breaking.
Glass littered the floor. Mirrors hung precariously on walls. Windows looked like a war had been fought through them.
“Rubin. No more playing around. We're hardball now. Do you know why we have to run?”
“We're going to go to jail if we don't,” said Rubin. “The forces of negativity are after us.”
“We have to run because we haven't been tough enough. We've played by their rules, not ours. Our problem is we've been too nicey-nice and not tough enough. No more games. We're going for it all. We're going for our own country. Then let them try to convict us. If you run the country, you can't violate laws. You make the laws.”
One of the young bodyguards Beatrice favored ran into the room.
“There's something at the front gate. He didn't take no for an answer.”
“What do you mean, 'something'?” asked Rubin.
“What do you mean he didn't take 'no'?” asked Beatrice.
“Well, we have Bruno and the dogs at the front gate. And you know how tough they are,” said the bodyguard.
“I do,” said Beatrice with a pleased smile.
“A guy came up to them, had a Powie with him. The Powie kept pointing toward here, saying you and Beatrice lived here. Said it was the spiritual home of the world.”
“What was her name?” asked Rubin.
“I don't know, they're all alike. All that trust and stupidity. Anything you tell them, they go and figure out how it makes sense. You know.”
“Who cares,” said Beatrice.
“Well, Bruno says they can't come in, and this guy throws the dogs halfway up the lawn like footballs with everything but a spiral and then tells Bruno he'll do the same thing to him. Well, Bruno panics. I know this because he's pressing the alarm and I'm listening in to this gate outpost and he's promising everything to the guy if he will just ask for it nicely.”
“Did the negative intruder have thick wrists?” asked Rubin.
“Wrists? Who cares about wrists?” Beatrice laughed. “What can you do with a wrist?”
“You saw the monitor. Did he have thick wrists?”
“I think so,” said the bodyguard. “Dark eyes. High cheekbones.”
“The negative force, Beatrice,” said Rubin. “The ultimate negative force has come after us. I've said it a thousand times. If you're good, they'll attack you. The better you are, the more they'll attack you. And if you're representing ultimate good, then ultimate evil will find you out.”
“Well then, kill him! Is that such a problem? What's the problem here?” said Beatrice. “Is there any reason that man has to live? Do I hear a reason? Do I see a hand?” Beatrice looked around the room, as though expecting to find an answer. “Thank you. Please shoot the trespasser.”
“Well, Bruno tried that,” said the bodyguard.
“And?” asked Beatrice.
“Bruno sailed past the dogs up the lawn. He isn't moving too much.”
“Bruno never moved too much,” said Beatrice.
“I could have told you guns wouldn't stop him. We've already tried guns. Our faithful Mr. Muscamente had many guns himself, and succumbed to the negative force. I have tracked this man across America. I have seen what he can do.”
“We're packed, let's go,” said Beatrice.
“No. I want to cover our retreat. I want to end this evil person now.”
“Rubin, I like that in you,” said Beatrice. “I'll go through the back way, and you can join me.”
“No. I'll set up everything and we'll both go.”
“How long will that take?”
“Three seconds. I have been expecting this. Miami airport proved that bullets cannot stop the man. And given that people cannot escape him, I came to the conclusion that the only way to destroy such a force—”
“Just do it, Rubin,” said Beatrice, and to the bodyguard added:
“If it weren't for me he would still be wasting reams of bond paper putting his silly ideas on them.”
“This will not miss,” said Rubin, and he went to the basement to activate the system he had arranged. Since it took twenty more seconds than the three he had promised, he found himself alone in the mansion, and had to run to catch up to the car the bodyguard was packing in the rear of the house.
“Don't drive away. Don't let him see us escaping. If he goes after us, my trap won't work.”
“I wouldn't mind being caught by him,” Beatrice laughed. She tickled the bodyguard's thigh. He was at the wheel.
“Yes you would,” said Rubin. “He obviously works for the President.”
“That bastard,” said Beatrice.
“Just wait. Let him get into the house. Turn off the motor and let the trap work.”
Remo slowed his walk to keep pace with Daphne. It was a good half-mile from the gate to the mansion and they had only gone a hundred and fifty yards when they passed the gate attendant named Bruno lying very still on the rolling lawns of the grand estate.
“You sure you can identify him? You sure he doesn't look like any of his pictures?” asked Remo.
“Yes. It was his inner light that remained constant. He could have stayed younger than I am, but he chose to allow himself to experience the suffering of aging. However, he is going to start getting younger when he chooses.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Do you believe Sinanju?”
“Sinanju works,” said Remo.
“Before Poweressence I was a desperate young woman seeking any solution that would work. But now I have found what works, what I have been looking for. You should try it. You wouldn't have to be so negative.”
“Have you ever heard of being able to make people forget things?”
“No,” said Daphne. “You have to remember your hurts and past life injuries so that you can deal with them, and release your problems into the universe instead of harboring them.”
“I like to harbor,” said Remo. “And I feel fine.”
“Why do you argue with your sweet father?”
“Because he's argumentative,” said Remo. He looked up at the house. It had that sense of defense, that quietness of danger, of the moment before things would spring out. With the vast green lawns, the sun sparkling off windows, the air so filled with warm life, it reminded Remo most of all of some especially beautiful and deadly insect. The deadly ones, Chiun had said, advertised their power by having attractive colors.
When he thought of Chiun, he was sad. He did not know why the President might have to die, but he trusted Smith. Over the years he had learned that the one thing that could not be questioned was Smith's loyalty to the country. Remo was loyal to the country. He could never explain to Chiun what that meant. More and more as he became Sinanju he understood why. Yet even though he understood how Chiun felt, he did not feel the same way. He was caught between two worlds, and both of them were inside him.
He knew that quite soon he might be leaving the country he loved and had served so long. He wondered if he could ever adjust to serving some dictator or tyrant. He needed to serve what he felt was right. Chiun felt only Sinanju was right, and in the sense of how the human body worked, he was right. But not for governments. Not for people.
“A penny for your thoughts,” said Daphne.
Remo pushed her to the side of the road. Metallic objects were secreted under the pathway. The soft green lawn was safer.
“I was thinking about Sinanju,” said Remo.
“Does it give you the absolute freedom of power that Poweressence does?”
“No. Frankly, little lady, it confuses me,” said Remo.
