Warren Murphy - The Last Dragon

The board regarded him with unblinking, unreadable eyes.

The CEO gestured to the door with his cigar. "Give us a moment, would you King? We need to confer."

King paced the rug outside the boardroom for twenty minutes. His jacket grew heavy with perspiration.

"This isn't happening," he muttered. "This isn't happening. I'm Skip King. I'm headed for the top."

When he was called back in, he found the board sitting placidly. Nancy looked unhappy. That was a good sign. He forced himself to breathe normally.

"We've decided you can stay with the project," the CEO said bluntly.

"Great. You won't regret-"

"Under Dr. Derringer."

King scowled. "A woman. I can't work under a woman."

"I suggest we take Mr. King at his word," Nancy said coolly.

"On second thought," King said hastily, "I can give it a shot. Why not? I'm a people person."

"Excellent. Take a seat, Dr. Derringer is making recommendations."

King sat. He folded his hands on the table until he realized how it looked. Then he hid them under the table so no one could see them tremble.

Nancy cleared her throat and said, "I have just examined the animal. It is clearly depressed."

"That's the most ridic-" King started to say. He shut up.

"And not adapting to the habitat. It's too early to tell what the problem is. I'd like to do a blood workup, toxicology tests, but of immediate concern is to move Punkin-"

"What happened to Old Jack?"

"Punkin is a more customer-friendly name," the CEO murmured.

King shut up again. The woman was smooth. She had them eating out of her hand. His eyes went around the room, wondering which one of them she was sleeping with.

"As I was saying," Nancy resumed, "Punkin must be moved as soon as possible. To a more suitable environment. Also, a more secret one since the press has been flooding the switchboard with inquiries."

"Now whose fault is that?" King snapped.

The CEO stood up abruptly. "King, help Dr. Derringer with all the arrangements."

"Yes, sir," King said unhappily.

On their way out, the board of directors stopped to give Nancy their compliments. King was ignored. That hurt most of all.

After the board had gone home, King stood up stiffly. "I guess I'll have to make the best of this. Where are we moving him?"

"That's classified," Nancy snapped, gathering up her files.

"Not from me."

"Especially from you."

"Then how can I help if I don't know where we're taking Old Jack?"

"Because B'wana is going home for the evening."

"You can't order me home."

"Would you rather I ask the board to do that?"

"You play a hard game of ball for a girl without any. "

"Try not to slam the door on your way out," Nancy said. "It's made of glass. Like your ego."

After King had left, Nancy went to her new office. Skip King's name was still on the door. By morning, that would be changed. At her new desk, she dialed her home number.

"Remo? Nancy. It's all set. We're moving Punkin tonight."

"Need any help? Chiun should be here in an hour or two."

"No. No time. Better wait for him. And stick by the phone. I'll call if I need you."

"Let's hope not. I'm in no mood to stand between Chiun and the wishbone of his choice all freaking night."

Chapter 21

Burger Triumph World Headquarters was a forty-story office tower surrounded by low satellite buildings. A golden crown surmounted the tower, making the lower buildings seem like kneeling subjects before a monolithic emperor. The park was accessible by a single service road and surrounded by a security fence.

The press was kept outside the fence. The security guard at the gate was under explicit instructions. If questioned about a dinosaur, laugh in their faces.

He did. And as the night wore on and the phone calls to the corporate building went unreturned, the press gave it up.

By three o'clock in the morning, the coast was clear.

Nancy Derringer was giving the Apatosaur's a last once-over. It regarded her with sleepy eyes. It had shifted position since she had last been here. It was a good sign. It should be strong enough for the transfer.

She lifted the walkie-talkie in her hand and said, "Open the gate."

At the opposite end of the sunken habitat a steel door lifted like a guillotine blade being raised into cutting position. A dim tunnel was exposed.

From within, a fan began blowing, carrying a fruity scent to the Apatosaur nostrils. It stirred, craning its long neck around.

"There you go, Punkin. Food."

The reptile sniffed audibly.

"You can do it," Nancy encouraged. "You're hungry, aren't you?"

The creature found its feet with ponderous dignity. It backed up, turned, and sent its long drooping neck into the tunnel.

Nancy had her fingers crossed. "Keep going."

The shoulder disappeared as the creature followed its nose. When the sound of noisy eating came, only the tail was visible.

This went on for twenty some minutes and tailed off. Then it stopped all together.

A voice crackled from the walkie-talkie. "He's gulped down every last avocado, Dr. Derringer."

"I'm on my way," Nancy said. "It shouldn't be long now. "

The great basement gave a long shudder and there was silence except for the slow slapping of the reptile's tail against the ground.

Nancy climbed down and slipped into the tunnel.

Captain Relish met her in the narrow square tunnel. The dinosaur hauler had been backed into the sloping tunnel, so that its bed lay flush with the floor.

The Apatosaur had collapsed peacefully in the confined space, ready for transport.

"The sedatives worked perfectly, Dr. Derringer," said Relish. "Care to do the honors?"

Reluctantly, Nancy tranked the creature herself, hating every pull of the rifle trigger. Only a half dozen shots were required to insure an extended sleep.

Nancy handed the rifle back to Relish. "All right, secure him and we'll be going."

Nancy watched the Burger Berets cable the Apatosaur down.

When they were done, they went out a side door and around a concrete tunnel where the cab of the brontohauler lay outside the other end of the basement tunnel.

"I'm driving," Relish said.

"Fine." Nancy took a seat in the middle of the oversized cab. The backup driver took the outside passenger seat. Relish got the diesels started and the hauler lurched forward.

Nancy was looking out the back window as the rest of the hauler emerged, bearing its cargo of sleeping Apatosaur.

"Ingenious, isn't it?" Relish grunted.

"Anything that avoids stressing the animal has my heartfelt appreciation," Nancy said distantly.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Nancy said hastily. "We should be fine once we reach our destination."

"Which is?"

"Classified until you need to know. Just take Highway 13. North."

"You're the boss."

A huge overhead door rolled up and they rumbled out of Burger Triumph World Headquarters and into the night. Soon, they were out of the office park and traveling north.

Nancy settled down for what she hoped would be a short uneventful ride. She didn't like sitting between two Burger Berets-not understanding how they fit into the apparent charade with the Congress for a Green Africa. But once the creature was in neutral territory, it should be possible to wrest control of it from the corporation. If not with lawyers, then with the help of Remo and Chiun-whoever they really were.

On a quiet stretch of Route 13, not thirty minutes later, a small van roared up behind them and tried to squeeze past the hauler.

Relish eyed them in his side mirror. "Are they crazy? Trying to pass us? We own the damn road."

"Must be press," the other Beret muttered.

Engine racing, the van strained to pull past the lumbering vehicle. Captain Relish gave the wheel a nudge to the left. The hauler responded. Forced to swerve, the van ran up on the soft shoulder of the road, almost wiped out, and pulled ahead. Its red tail lights dwindled, then flared.