Warren Murphy: Return Engagement

"The first great moment was in Berlin, when Hitler himself selected me for the work in America," the voice called.

Smith looked about carefully. The growth was thick. The voice didn't seem to be coming from the cabin. "The second great moment was when I first sat in a wheelchair. You might think, Harold W. Smith, that sitting in a wheelchair is not a moment of celebration, but compared with what I had been through, a wheelchair was glory."

"I prefer to see who I'm speaking to," said Harold Smith.

"The third great moment was achieved when I stood erect for the first time in forty years," the voice of Konrad Blutsturz went on. "But you will see what you have wrought soon enough, Smith."

"Where is my wife?" Smith demanded. He kept his voice under control. But he did not feel under control. He felt rage. "You offered me the chance to say goodbye to her. I claim that right."

"And the fourth great moment lies just before me. It is the instant when I take your throat in my hard left hand and squeeze the life from it. I hope it is a long moment for I have waited very long for it."

A figure emerged from the growth. Smith saw Konrad Blutsturz. His left arm gleamed unnaturally, and as Smith watched, a curved blade of metal snapped out; its glittering blade ran along the back of the blue-colored hand, protruding in a wicked point past the pointed metal fingertips.

Cyborg, thought Smith. Was it possible?

Konra, Blutsturz crushed his way to the mossy bank, and Smith watched the shiny artificial legs sink into the spongy earth almost up to the ankles. And he knew. Somehow, it all linked together, Blutsturz, the nebulizer and Remo and Chiun.

But there was no time for Smith's logical mind to connect all the pieces together, because suddenly Konrad Blutsturz was growing.

Tiny whirrings came from the man-machine's bionic knees. They spun, cranking out unfolding panels of titanium and pushing the leg sections upward.

When Konrad Blutsturz had gained two feet of height, he stepped into the still waters and advanced on Smith's boat like a metallic travesty of a stork.

"My wife," Smith said.

"You will never see her again," said Konrad Blutsturz. And he bared his teeth. It was not a grin. It was something that mixed pleasure and pain.

Smith switched the big fan to life and sent the boat surging at the ungainly wading thing.

"Idiot!" Blutsturz yelled, throwing his arms before his face.

Smith jumped from the boat before it struck.

Konrad Blutsturz wobbled slightly--only slightly-and sickled off a corner of the boat's flat snout. The craft took on water and began to sink.

Smith, scrambling up the mushy bank, plunged toward the cabin.

"Where are you?" he called.

Behind him, the croaking voice of Konrad Blutsturz laughed mockingly.

The body was nude below the waist. Someone had shoved the pants down about the ankles.

Smith saw that it was Ilsa, the blond nurse he had met at Folcroft. She was dead. His heart in his mouth, he ran from room to room. He found nothing, no one. The cabin was empty.

"Where is she?" he said to himself. "My God, where is she?"

Remo came to the fork in the swamp creek and asked Chiun, "Right or left?"

"Left," said Chiun firmly.

Remo sent the airboat skimming down the left-band channel. The Master of Sinanju stood at the head of the craft like a bizarre figurehead. He wore a Hawaiian shirt over duck pants, because everyone in the Everglades settlements wore them.

"I still think we should be helping Smith instead of running around like this," Remo complained.

"Smith told you he did not wish our help," said Chiun. "He is the emperor. His word is law."

"If this place is empty, I vote we turn back for Folcroft."

"You turn back," said Chiun. "I will remain to await the coming of the man-machine, Bloodsucker, should he return."

The left channel ended in an empty cul-de-sac. "You were wrong," Remo pointed out.

"I was not wrong," said Chiun huffily. "I simply was not absolutely right."

"Same difference," said Remo, turning the boat around.

"Listen!" Chiun said suddenly. "I hear something." Remo shut off the motor and heard a voice filter through the sun-dappled trees.

"Smith! Harold W. Smith!" the voice screeched.

"It is him," said Chiun. "Bloodsucker."

"Through those trees," said Remo, sending the craft piling onto a bank. They jumped out and flashed through the undergrowth as if they had machetes attached to their bodies.

On the other side of the bank, they found the right hand channel. Standing in it, the deep water not even reaching his hips, was Konrad Blutsturz.

"Smith." Blutsturz called.

"Hold, abomination!" cried the Master of Sinanju. Konrad Blutsturz heard the voice and half-turned. One leg lifted and moved. storklike, and he pivoted to face the new threat.

"So," he said. "You have found me."

Remo started into the water. Chiun pulled him back. "Wait. Let him come to us."

"Okay, Little Father. You call it," said Remo. He shifted off to one side so that he and Chiun presented separate targets.

"Smith," cried Konrad Blutsturz as he advanced. "Harold Smith. Come out and see the vengeance I mete out to my enemies."

"Is he referring to our Smith?" asked Chiun.

"I don't think so," said Remo, who changed his mind when a familiar figure in gray stuck his head out of the nearby cabin.

"Smitty," Remo called. "What are you doing here?"

"That thing kidnapped my wife."

"You know each other?" said Konrad Blutsturz, surprise filling his bloodless face.

"Don't you know?" said Remo coolly. "We work for him. We've been onto you from the start."

"For Smith? All along?" Blutsturz turned to face Smith. "I have been stalking you and you sent these two after me? Amazing. You are more resourceful than I expected, Harold Smith."

"Forget Smith," said Remo. "You have to deal with us first."

Chiun called to Smith, "Look in the cabin, Emperor Smith. The device we seek may be in there."

Smith disappeared inside.

"He is out of the way, good," said Chiun. "Let us show this nearly dead thing how Sinanju deals with its enemies."

"I'll see what I can do, Little Father," Remo said as Konrad Blutsturz reached their moss bank. Blutsturz lifted a leg. It broke through a chunk of earth and slipped back into the tea-colored water.

"What?" wondered Konrad Blutsturz, dumbfounded. "He cannot leave the water," Chiun told Remo. "Too heavy. "

"Now," said Remo.

Remo took the left, coming in on an inside line-the traditional Sinanju path for close-quarters fighting-and the flashing blade rose to meet him. Chiun cut in on the right, taking the outside-line approach.

"I will kill you," howled Konrad Blutsturz, and chopped down with the wicked blade.

Remo twisted out from under it and jabbed a stiff fingered blow at, not the metal arm, but the flesh of the stump above it.

Konrad Blutsturz let out a scream of deep agony. He duck-walked back from the bank as if his legs were being pulled by invisible strings.

Chiun kicked out a sandaled toe and caught one metal leg as Blutsturz hopped back. The leg buckled, then recovered mechanically. Blutsturz' torso twisted like a scoop of ice cream on top of a tipping sugar cone.

"The leg machines move on their own," Chiun called to Remo in Korean.

"Gotcha," said Remo. He plunged into the water. Chiun followed him in.

Konrad Blutsturz, holding his bleeding stump of a shoulder, stepped back, circling on one leg like a giant compass drawing a circle. He peered into the brown water. He saw nothing. He looked for air bubbles, but oddly, there were none. Did these two not breathe air? Then one of his legs quivered from a blow-the right. Yelling, Konrad Blutsturz lashed out, kicking. Water splashed furiously. He was like a wader who suddenly discovers a poisonous jellfish between his knees. He kicked. He howled. But his titanium legs connected with nothing.