Warren Murphy - Prophet Of Doom

A rap at the door was quickly followed by Esther Clear-Seer herself, who didn't wait for permission before marching into the office.

"I just caught one of the acolytes trying to take off with Cole's daughter," she announced. She didn't acknowledge Princippi's presense.

Kaspar leaned forward, peeved. "What happened?"

Esther shrugged. "No big deal. I had the guards take care of her. She was yelling her head off about being a Fed, but she didn't have any ID in her room." She shook her long raven tresses. "I don't like this, Kaspar. It's getting too weird around here."

Kaspar seemed distracted by some vague, distant thought. At last he exhaled deeply and slapped his palms onto his desk.

"Mr. Princippi, would you excuse us for a moment?" he asked.

Miffed, Princippi nodded his respects while shooting a frosty glare at Esther Clear-Seer as he left the room.

Once Princippi was gone, Kaspar asked, "You saw my press conference?"

Esther nodded. "Senator Mark Kaspar. I would

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have figured that was beneath you." She seemed too weary to give the remark a biting edge.

Kaspar smiled. "All in good time," he explained vaguely. "You realize that with or without the Pythia, I still have a schedule to keep." A casual shrug indicated that Esther understood something was going on. "There are issues that must be dealt with now," Kaspar explained. "The Senate race being one of those things."

"You better run one hell of a campaign. Cole just went on CNN, vowing to stay in the race, 'come hell or high water.' Unquote."

"I am aware of his intentions," Kaspar said. "I had hoped the peril to his daughter would be enough to force his withdrawal. But the Pythia's prediction was strangely vague on that point."

"Pity for you," Esther said with an unsympathetic grin.

Kaspar smiled back. "Mr. Princippi has been on the phone with the senator's advance man to arrange a meeting for the two of us. We are, after all, now the leading candidates for the office. When our meeting is over, I want to be certain that I am the only candidate left in the race."

"You want to off Jackson Cole?"

"It is rather crude," Kaspar admitted with a shrug. "But at this point we haven't much of an alternative. ft could be days, even weeks, before the one from Sinanju succumbs to the power of my master. It is imperative that I win this race so that my ultimate destiny can be fulfilled."

Esther sighed. Since this creepy little man had shown up, she had found herself involved in assault,

kidnapping, extortion and murder. And now she was being set up to assassinate a senator of the United States of America.

It was as if Kaspar had been born to play power politics. And she had no choice but to go along for the ride.

Esther sighed. "Just tell me what you want me to do," she said resignedly.

chapter Twenty

Smith learned of the impending meeting between Mark Kaspar and Senator Jackson Cole in a news story that was sandwiched awkwardly between a segment on dog grooming and an in-studio "Mr. Chow" wok demonstration.

The story was brief. As well as mentioning his daughter's abduction and the fact that he was neither going to give up hope for her safe recovery nor allow the tragedy to dictate the rest of his life, the story also stated that Jackson Cole was a resident of Thermo-polis, Wyoming, and that the senator would be making his regular public appearance at his hometown's an­nual spring fair. Political neophyte and pundit Mark Kaspar was also scheduled to appear at the same pub­lic event.

When the story concluded, Smith placed a call to the White House.

He didn't know what Kaspar's game plan was, but he knew that Senator Cole was at risk every moment he spent near Mark Kaspar and his Truth Church ac­olytes.

The President picked up on the fifth ring.

"Mr. President, are you aware of the meeting be­tween Mark Kaspar and Senator Cole?" Smith asked.

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"What about it?"

The President sounded cold, and Smith realized he was still upset over their previous phone conversation.

' 'I do not believe it would be prudent for the senator to meet with Kaspar at present," Smith explained.

"Is this political advice, Smith?" the President asked frostily.

Smith silently adjusted his tie and pressed on. "I have reason to believe Mark Kaspar is a dangerous individual."

"You're telling me?" the President said sarcastically. "I've been taking the press and party flak for two days straight over these resignations. Now my staffers are telling me the boys on the Hill have been getting some pretty mysterious phone calls from Prince Princippi."

"Phone calls?"

' 'Apparently his boss is looking for someone named Sinanju or something. Princippi is about as subtle as a mud pie in the face. He suggested to my colleagues on the Hill that they take the matter up with me. Can you believe the gall of this guy? And no one can dig up anything on this Sinanju. Probably some fringe special-interest group is my guess."

Smith swallowed his horror silently. Kaspar was trying to use the President to flush out Remo. Fortunately, though the Chief Executive had used the services of his two operatives in the past, he had never heard or did not recall the name Sinanju. A blessing for CURE.

Smith pursed his lips. "I believe the man is bluffing, Mr. President," he said after regaining control over his voice.

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When the President asked him how he could be certain, Smith reluctantly explained the Ragnarok connection and how each of the seven men who resigned had visited the ranch on at least one occasion.

"There are only two other congressmen who have had contact with Kaspar in the past three months," Smith added. "And it seems reasonable to assume that if he had anything incriminating on them, he would have targeted them also."

"Or he's got something so toxic he's holding back until he needs to strike a death blow against my administration," the. President suggested worriedly. "We've been doing nothing but damage control up here for the past two days."

"That is not my impression, Mr. President," Smith said. "I believe Kaspar's hand is played out. There was an incident involving one of my special people. I cannot go into the details, but as a direct consequence Kaspar has become desperate enough to try to contact you, even if it is through a surrogate. And I do not need to remind you, sir, that desperate men sometimes do desperate things. I urge you to persuade Senator Cole to reconsider this joint appearance with Kaspar."

The President lost his cool attitude. "You sure about this, Smith?"

"I am certain Kaspar is dangerous."

The President was silent a moment. "I'll call you back shortly," he snapped.

He was back on the phone within fifteen minutes.

"I personally contacted the senator's office," the Chief Executive reported. "Cole's administrative assistant informed me that the senator is adamant about maintaining his normal campaign schedule, even if it

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means attending the Hot Springs State Fair at the same time as Mark Kaspar."

Smith politely thanked the President for his cooperation and hung up the phone. He spun around in his cracked leather chair and stared out at Oyster Bay on the other side of Long Island Sound, his face pursing like a wet leather glove.

He had few options now.

Remo was nowhere to be found. He had vanished not long after visiting Chiun the previous day. Smith only knew Remo had left after a Folcroft guard reported seeing someone matching Remo's description slipping across the grounds late that night.

Chiun had become even more withdrawn after the disappearance. He hadn't mentioned the phantom submarine to Smith in more than a day. The Master of Sinanju simply sat immobile in the center of his Folcroft quarters, eyes closed, deep in meditation.