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"Hey! What was that about?" asked Remo from the plane of darkness on which he
sprawled.
"It was about never dropping your guard. Your Master should be ashamed of
you."
"Hey, I just wrestled the Father of All Squid. I'm bushed."
"Be grateful then I did not strike a death blow, big foot."
"Wait! What about my father?"
Master Nonja crossed one ankle before the other. His legs scissored apart at
the knees. Dropping into a lotus position before Remo's sprawled form, he
dropped into the black plane of the Void and out of sight.
WHEN REMO WOKE up, the stewardess was still holding his hand lovingly. She
smiled dreamily.
"You talked in your sleep."
"Did I make sense?" Remo asked.
"No. You were adorable. I could have listened all night."
"It's day."
"That was an invitation." And the stewardess favored Remo with a blatant
wink.
Excusing himself, Remo went to the rest room and locked himself in until he
heard the landing gear whining down from their wells and the passengers stir
from their seats.
Slipping among the exiting passengers and walking low behind a lady who
weighed more than a baby elephant, Remo managed to slip past the sentinel
stewardess and off the plane unseen.
Changing planes, he found all flights to Oklahoma City full.
"I'll fly standby," Remo told the redheaded clerk. She gave him an inviting
smile. "Every flight is absolutely, positively filled to capacity until
tomorrow. At least."
"I'm in a rush."
The clerk leaned forward. Her lips were almost as red as her hair. "I'd be
happy to put you up at my place until tomorrow," she purred. "I have a very
comfy sofa bed. It sleeps two. Three if you're adventurous." She winked.
"I have to go out today."
"In that case," the clerk snapped, her face reddening, "you can walk for all I
care." She slapped a Closed sign on the counter.
"Damn," muttered Remo. "Since when did Oklahoma City become so popular?"
Going to the gate, he tried to bribe his way onto the flight. One passenger
expressed interest, but changed his mind when Remo found he had only thirty
dollars and two ancient coins on him.
When a male steward happened by, Remo got an idea. Digging into his wallet, he
pulled his Remo Black sky marshal's ID card. It was a little waterlogged
around the edges, but still readable.
Accosting the flight attendant, Remo showed his ID and said, "The federal
government needs your cooperation."
"Sure. What can I do?"
"We have intelligence out of the Middle East there will be an attempt to
skyjack the Oklahoma City flight. It's booked solid, and I have to get on
board without alerting the terrorists."
"How can I help?"
"I need your uniform."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm going to take your place. It's for the safety of the passengers and
crew."
When the man hesitated, Remo told him. "If you're not on the flight, you're
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not likely to catch a stray round."
The flight attendant squared his shoulders bravely. "If it's for my country,
I'll do it."
Five minutes later Remo emerged from the men's room and boarded the flight
unchallenged.
It was a smooth flight. He only had to step on the toes of one smitten
stewardess to discourage her. And he picked up two hundred dollars in tips and
assorted phone numbers and propositions on crumpled napkins from female
passengers.
He kept the money. The napkins he threw away.
Chapter 17
Everywhere he went, Sunny Joe Roam saw death. They lay sick in their hogans.
They sprawled in the hot sun drinking again, drinking heavily to kill the pain
and numb the mind to that fact that they were doomed. They were all doomed,
Sunny Joe saw. Even himself, if he stayed. Death hung in the very air. Men
shivered unnaturally in the 130-degree heat.
By the time he realized it was too late for them all, Sunny Joe had kicked out
the virologist flown in from New York and turned away the Arizona State
epidemiologist, saying, "This is Sun On Jo land. Sun On Jo laws apply here,
not yours."
"I know that," said the state epidemiologist through his particle-filter mask.
"But state law requires the reservation be quarantined. No one in and no one
out." And he solemnly handed over a big red sign.
Sunny Joe had nailed it to the corral fence on the spot. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]