Warren Murphy: Date with Death

"Forget it," Remo said out loud, as if the words would calm his fears. "Now. Only now."

Lurching to his feet, he skittered down the street, keeping close to the buildings. If Bauer was going to kill him, he'd have to work for it.

Suddenly the music stopped. Remo shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears. In the distance he could hear a board creak under the pressure of a heavy foot.

Remo flattened himself against the side of a building. It was marked "General Store," and Bauer was inside. The footsteps moved in one direction and then another, exploring. At last they headed toward the street.

And Remo was ready. Now. Only now.

At the first quiver of the swinging doors, Remo burst through, kicking Bauer's weapon clear.

Bauer hit without hesitation. He dug his fist directly into Remo's shoulder wound. Remo screamed and reeled backward. Bauer came after him, delivering a powerful kick between Remo's legs. As Remo doubled over in pain, Bauer picked the Colt off the ground and sauntered calmly over to where Remo lay.

"You know what I'm going to do?" he asked softly. His lips were curved in a malicious smile. "First, I'm going to shoot you— not kill you, Williams, just air-condition you a little." His eyes shone. "And then I'm going to put up a wire." He stretched the word out until it seemed to pull with it a thousand nightmare memories. "Remember the wire, Williams?" He stepped back a pace and cocked the safety.

Now… only now… nothing else….

"I remember," Remo said, too quietly to hear. And the gun fired, but Remo was not there, and the next moment Bauer's face twisted in surprise as a foot came out of nowhere and sent him crashing against a post that splintered and broke under his weight.

Then Remo was on him, dragging him back into the street, shoving him to the ground, his fingers wound around Bauer's thick, corded neck.

"Don't," Bauer gurgled. "It isn't—"

"Where's Quantril?"

Spittle oozed out of the comers of Bauer's mouth. "The saloon." His bulging eyes looked at Remo expectantly, but the pressure around his neck did not lessen. "Be fair," he pleaded. "Remember…"

"I do," Remo said softly. "That's the trouble." His fingertips met.

"Chiun?" Remo whispered. There was no answer.

Leaving Bauer's body on the street, he walked the block to the Bayersville saloon. As he neared it, he heard tinkling music from the player piano and the sound of voices.

The saloon was lit with colored gaslights. Remo stopped short in the doorway for a moment, because the place seemed to be filled with people. Voluptuous girls, their hair piled on their heads, their long dresses lifted to the ankle to reveal high-button shoes, danced with bearded, burly men in antique suits. But he saw quickly that the people were only images projected on the saloon's walls. The place was empty except for one man seated alone at a table near the stairway in the back.

"Quantril?" Remo said, approaching him.

The man nodded elegantly. "I really never thought you'd get this far," he said. "You're quite a remarkable man."

"Where's Chiun?"

"Who? Oh, your Oriental friend. He's fine."

"I didn't ask how he is. I want to know where."

Quantril ignored him. He spread his arms in a gesture encompassing the room. "How do you like my town, Mr. Williams?"

"I can think of places I'd rather be."

"The saloon is one of Dream Date's most popular fantasy settings."

"Dream Date's history, Quantril."

"Nonsense."

"There's a matter of a couple of hundred women you kept as prisoners against their will."

Quantril shook his head like an indulgent father addressing a child. "That can't be linked to me. It was Deke Bauer's operation. He's dead, I presume."

"That's right."

"Excellent. You spared me the bother."

"You booby-trapped your own building."

"That's what you say. But from the evidence, it looks like you and your ancient friend broke in, killed three security guards, and then set the penthouse on fire, destroying all my records. They were in the computer." He burst into laughter. "If the police want anyone, it'll be you."

Remo exhaled noisily. Quantril was exactly the kind of criminal CURE had been devised to stop. The law couldn't touch him. Remo could. But not until he had found Chiun.

"What about the guy who led us here? You left him for dead. Do you think he won't talk?"

"Wally Donner? Don't make me laugh. He's got a criminal record a mile long. A psychopathic killer. The minute he shows his face, he'll be escorted to a psychiatric ward."

"Wally Donner, is it?" Remo brightened. At least he had a name now. But he'd have to try a bluff.

He shrugged. "Well, it looks like you've got the rap beaten, Quantril. Nobody'll arrest you."

"Thank you."

"Because I'm going to kill you first."

"Not so fast," Quantril said, smiling. "There's one small matter. You see, through the years I've made a sort of hobby of explosives. Keeps my fingers busy. This is one of the places I practiced on."

Remo felt his skin tightening.

"In fact, I've rigged the entire town of Bayersville to blow up like a rocket in…" He checked his watch. "Sixty seconds."

"I don't think so," Remo said. "You don't look like the suicidal type."

"Oh, I'm not planning to die. It would ruin my plans for the future. You only interrupted them. You haven't really changed a thing."

Remo could hear his internal clock ticking away the seconds. "Where's Chiun?" he demanded.

"I'll give him to you. All I ask of you in return is a head start."

"What about this so-called bomb?"

"I'll deactivate it as soon as you say yes."

Remo thought about it. "You're lying," he said.

"Eleven seconds, Mr. Williams. Ten. Nine. Eight…"

He couldn't take the chance. "All right."

"A wise decision," Quantril said. He took a key from his pocket, inserted it in a small box in the wall by the stairway, and turned it. The projected images faded from the walls. The tinkling music stopped. Quantril climbed the stairs.

"How about your part of the deal?" Remo called.

"Behold," Quantril said from the darkness of the stairway. A panel in the far wall slid open to reveal the old Oriental, gagged and tied to a chair.

"Chiun!"

Above, a helicopter whirred to life.

The Korean burst out of his bonds in a frenzy. "Fool! You let him go!"

"He was going to blow the place up, and you with it," Remo explained.

Chiun shot him a black look. "You are even more ignorant than I thought," he said as he raced toward the stairs. "Do you think a piece of twine can hold the Master of Sinanju?"

"It sure looked that way," Remo said, following.

"Idiot. I only let that perfumed fop tie me up so that he would stop that infernal music. We must hurry. Faster, Remo."

"There's no way we can catch that chopper, Chiun. We'll just have to track Quantril down—"

"Where? In Paradise?"

"What are you talking about?"

Chiun sighed. "Like all criminals, he felt the need to boast. So while I permitted him to tie me up, I listened to his prattle. I wanted to know if there were others. The bomb was not activated when you came in."

The stairs led upward to a trapdoor. Remo left it open as he climbed onto the roof. "So he's a liar," he said. Quantril's helicopter was beginning to lift off.

"Yes. It was activated when he turned off the movie pictures."

"The… oh, God."

Remo lunged for the helicopter, hooking his arm around the rudders. "Jump!" he yelled as the machine lifted him into the air. "Chiun, jump!"

Somersaulting upward, Remo kicked open the helicopter door. Miles Quantril's elegance deserted him as Remo pulled him out of the pilot's seat and dangled him from the open door.

"You can't do this!" he screamed. "I'm Miles Quantril! This is barbaric!"