Deadly Seeds

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Deadly Seeds Page 15

by Warren Murphy


  “No, you’re on the team too.”

  “All right. It is agreed.”

  “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What is agreed?”

  “It is agreed that I will solve this little problem for you. And in the future, you and Emperor Smith alone will not determine the assignments. I will have something to say about what you and I do.”

  “Chiun, did you ever do anything for anybody without extracting a price for it?” asked Remo.

  “I am not the Salvation Army.”

  “What makes you think you can solve this problem?”

  “Why not?” asked Chiun. “I am the Master of Sinanju.”

  · · ·

  James Orayo Fielding had only brief periods of consciousness now. The leukemia that was eating him up would win. It might be hours. It might be days. But the fight was over. Fielding was doomed.

  Because of this, the doctors did not make any plans to operate or to minister to Fielding around the clock. Despite the fact that he was dying, he seemed to be happy, lying in his hospital bed, his face wreathed in smiles.

  Until that afternoon when the aged Oriental appeared before him and offered to kiss his feet.

  “Who are you?” asked Fielding softly of the ancient man in the light blue robe who stood at the foot of his bed.

  “Just a humble man who has come to bring you the thanks of all mankind,” said Chiun. “Already my poor village has been saved through your wonderful genius.”

  Fielding’s eyes narrowed and for the first time in twenty–four hours, the smile passed from his face.

  “But how?”

  “Oh, you did not have all the process. You were very close,” Chiun said, “but you missed one thing. The chemicals you put into the grain, they could be very dangerous, but we found the thing to render them harmless.”

  As Fielding’s face lengthened, Chiun went on. “Salt,” he said. “Common salt. Found everywhere. Seeded into the soil with your grain, it makes plants grow, not in weeks, but in only days. And it has no bad effects. Like that bomb long ago in Japan. Look!”

  Chiun opened his hand and lowered it to show Fielding his palm. In it rested a solitary seed. From his other hand, Chiun sprinkled some white grains on the seed. “Salt,” he explained.

  He closed the hand and then opened it again. The seed had already begun to sprout. A tiny shoot rose from the top of it.

  “It takes now only moments,” said Chiun. He closed his hand again. When he reopened it, a few seconds later, the shoot had grown. It was now an inch tall, sprouting above the seed.

  “All the world will sing your praises,” said Chiun. “You will feed the world instantly. Because of you, never again will there be hunger.”

  He bowed deeply at the foot of Fielding’s bed and then backed from the room, as if leaving the presence of a king.

  Fielding’s mouth tried to move. Salt. Just common salt could make his process work. Because of him, the buggy humans would eat happily ever after. He had failed. His monument that was to be carved from the deaths of billions had failed…unless…

  The public relations firm of Feldman, O’Connor and the late Mr. Jordan had no trouble getting the press to meet in Fielding’s hospital room for a major press conference at six o’clock that night. After all, Fielding was a world–famous figure. His every move was news.

  Chiun and Remo sat in their hotel room watching on television, as James Orayo Fielding told the reporters that his Wondergrain process was a hoax.

  “Just a prank,” he said, “but now I find that it can be very dangerous. The radioactivity in the seeds could hurt the bugs…er, that is the people who come in contact with it. I am ordering the ships that were carrying this seed overseas for distribution to dump their cargo instantly to protect the people of the world from harm.”

  Remo watched on the television, then turned to Chiun.

  “All right. How’d you do it?”

  “Shhhh,” said Chiun. “I am listening to the news.”

  After the press conference, the newscaster reported that the first comment on Fielding’s announcement had just been received from the government of India. While India had not bid on the food process, it might be interested in taking the radioactive waste off Fielding’s hands—at no charge, of course for further research into potential military uses of it. Booby traps, the newscaster said.

  When the news show had turned safely to weather and sports, Remo asked again, “How’d you do it?”

  “I reasoned with him.”

  Remo stood up. “That’s no answer.” He walked around the room, stalking, awaiting another word from Chiun. None came. Remo went to the window and looked out again. His hand came to rest on the windowsill and brushed against something.

  He picked it up.

  “And what is this plastic plant doing here?” he asked.

  “It is a gift for you. To remind you of the everlasting goodness of your Mr. Fielding. May the bugs feast forever on his body.”

  About the Authors

  WARREN MURPHY was born in Jersey City, where he worked in journalism and politics until launching the Destroyer series with Richard Sapir in 1971. A screenwriter (Lethal Weapon II, The Eiger Sanction) as well as a novelist, Murphy’s work has won a dozen national awards, including multiple Edgars and Shamuses. He has lectured at many colleges and universities, and is currently offering writing lessons at his website, warrenmurphy.com. A Korean War veteran, some of Murphy’s hobbies include golf, mathematics, opera, and investing. He has served on the board of the Mystery Writers of America, and has been a member of the Screenwriters Guild, the Private Eye Writers of America, the International Association of Crime Writers, and the American Crime Writers League. He has five children: Deirdre, Megan, Brian, Ardath, and Devin.

  RICHARD BEN SAPIR was a New York native who worked as an editor and in public relations before creating The Destroyer series with Warren Murphy. Before his untimely death in 1987, Sapir had also penned a number of thriller and historical mainstream novels, best known of which were The Far Arena, Quest, and The Body, the last of which was made into a film. The book review section of the New York Times called him “a brilliant professional.”

  Also by Warren Murphy

  The Destroyer Series (#1-25)

  Created, The Destroyer

  Death Check

  Chinese Puzzle

  Mafia Fix

  Dr. Quake

  Death Therapy

  Union Bust

  Summit Chase

  Murder Shield

  Terror Squad

  Kill or Cure

  Slave Safari

  Acid Rock

  Judgment Day

  Murder Ward

  Oil Slick

  Last War Dance

  Funny Money

  Holy Terror

  Assassin’s Playoff

  Deadly Seeds

  Brain Drain

  Child’s Play

  King’s Curse

  Sweet Dreams

  The Destroyer Series (#26-50)

  In Enemy Hands

  The Last Temple

  Ships of Death

  The Final Death

  Mugger Blood

  The Head Men

  Killer Chromosomes

  Voodoo Die

  Chained Reaction

  Last Call

  Power Play

  Bottom Line

  Bay City Blast

  Missing Link

  Dangerous Games

  Firing Line

  Timber Line

  Midnight Man

  Balance of Power

  Spoils of War

  Next of Kin

  Dying Space

  Profit Motive

  Skin Deep

  Killing Time

  The Trace Series

  Trace

  And 47 Miles of Rope

  When Elephants Forget

  Pigs Get Fat

  Once a Mutt

  Too Old a Cat

  Getting up with Fleas

&n
bsp; Copyright

  This digital edition of Deadly Seeds (v1.0) was published in 2013 by Gere Donovan Press.

  If you downloaded this book from a filesharing network, either individually or as part of a larger torrent, the author has received no compensation. Please consider purchasing a legitimate copy—they are reasonably priced, and available from all major outlets. Your author thanks you.

  Copyright © Warren Murphy

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons—living or dead—events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Errata

  Gere Donovan Press is committed to producing the highest-quality e-books possible. If you encountered any obvious errors, typos or formatting issues in this text, we would appreciate your bringing them to our attention, so that the next edition can be improved for future readers.

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