Last Call td-35

by Warren Murphy

  "Now," Remo yelled. Karbenko pressed down heavy on the accelerator. The big powerful car surged forward and as it came alongside the car on the right, Karbenko swung the wheel so that only a few inches separated the two cars. At that moment, Remo leaned out his open window. His hands flashed into the car alongside them. Karbenko heard a cracking noise. He glanced to his right, in time to see Remo sinking back into his seat, the steering wheel from the other car in his hands. Beyond Remo, the driver of the other car looked as if he had gone into shock. His face was contorted and his hands waved futilely as he sought some way to steer the car, ripping along the runway at almost 80 miles an hour.

  "Get out of here," Remo said. Karbenko powered the Chevrolet forward, just as the driver of the car to their right hit the brakes. But his wheels were not straight and the sudden braking action spun the car sideways and its 80-mile-an-hour forward momentum turned the car over on its side. As Karbenko watched in the rearview mirror, he saw the car roll over three times and

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  then, upside down, skid into the second chase car, knocking it out of control and into a flat grassy field next to the runway, where the driver finally muscled it to a stop.

  The four men got out of the car and were running back to free the occupants of the overturned car, when Karbenko pulled onto a narrow gravel road, slowed down, and turned sharply into the line of afternoon traffic.

  "Vassily," the premier said. "Don't drive so fast. It makes me nervous."

  "No, sir," Karbenko said. He grinned at Remo, who shrugged his shoulders.

  "Any idea who that was?" Remo asked.

  "Yes," Karbenko said. "I know who it was."

  Karbenko had rented three rooms in the name of the Earp family at an eight-dollar-a-night budget motel outside Washington. He left the premier and his wife in the car while he went inside and inspected the three adjoining rooms.

  "Is this where visiting officials always stay?" the premier asked Remo.

  "Only heads of state," Remo said. "We've got a tent in one of the town parks for everybody else."

  "Oh," the premier said. "I do not think I would enjoy sleeping in a tent."

  Nina asked Remo, "Have you been a friend of Vassily's for a long time?"

  "Not really," said Remo. "It's been a short but intense relationship."

  "Why is everybody talking to him?" Chiun asked from his rear seat next to Nina. "I am real-

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  ly much more interesting than this thing. If you like, I will tell you about my screenplay."

  "What is a screenplay?" asked Nina.

  "It is a story for a motion picture," Chiun said. "In your country, they are about tractors and farmers."

  "Tell me your story," Nina said.

  "You'll be sorry," Remo said.

  "Quiet," said Chiun, "or I will write you out of the picture."

  "Yes," said the premier. "Tell us this wonderful story."

  Chiun was describing the quiet, gentle, peace-loving, handsome, noble, virtuous, and strong main character of the film when Karbenko came back and ushered the premier and his wife into the central of the three motel rooms.

  As they unpacked, Chiun was getting around to the fact that this beautiful soul was not appreciated by those around him, particularly those upon whom he had squandered the gift of knowledge only to find them incapable of receiving it.

  Karbenko took Remo aside.

  "Those were Stantington's men at the airport. I want to go talk to him."

  "I'll go with you," Remo said.

  "The premier-" Karbenko began.

  "He'll be safe," Remo said. "I've heard this screenplay before. It's got four more hours to run. Chiun will never let anything happen to his audience until he's done with the story. We'll be back by then."

  "He is very old. Can he protect them?" Karbenko asked.

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  "If he can't," said Remo, "no one in the world can. Don't write that off as a typical American exaggeration. That's a fact. No one in the world, if he can't."

  Chiun had decided that the premier and his wife would probably appreciate the story more if it was told in Russian. He began to tell it in Russian. He started again at the beginning.

  Riding up in the elevator toward Stantington's office, Remo asked, "Any ideas on the assassin?"

  "None," said Karbenko. "But thank god, he's back in Russia. Let the KGB there find out who he is."

  "If they're like our CIA, you're going to have a long wait," Remo said.

  "Ain't it the truth, pardner ?"

  Remo's special director's office pass got them through the guards to Stantington's office complex and the secretary's memory of Remo got them inside Stantington's private office.

  "What are you doing here?" Stantington said when he came out of his bathroom. He was staring at Remo.

  "He drove me here to make sure I didn't get in an automobile accident," Karbenko said. Stantington glared at him angrily.

  "You know that the premier has arrived?" Karbenko said.

  Stantington nodded.

  "He is staying at the Colony Astor," Karbenko said, naming one of Washington's poshest and oldest hotels. "Can I count on you to assign men there to assist us in protecting him?"

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  "I have been ordered not to get involved," Stantington said.

  "But I'm requesting your help," Karbenko said. "I think that changes the situation."

  Stantington sat down behind his desk. "Yes, I suppose it does," he said. "And are you staying at the Colony Astor, too ?"

  Karbenko nodded. "The premier and his wife are in Room 1902. My men and I are in 1900 and 1904, on both sides of them. I'd like to have some of your men spotted around the hotel, the lobby, the public rooms. Just to watch out for anybody suspicious."

  "All right," Stantington said. "I'll have them there in twenty minutes."

  "Thank you," Karbenko said. "An unusual thing happened at the airport by the way."

  "Oh? What was that?"

  "Our car was chased by two carloads of men. Fortunately, they had an accident and we got away."

  "Lucky for you," Stantington said.

  "Yes, wasn't it? I wonder why they were there?"

  Stantington shrugged. "Perhaps they thought the premier was in some danger?"

  "Perhaps," Karbenko said. "Thank you for your cooperation, Admiral."

  Riding back down in the elevator, Remo asked Karbenko, "Why'd you let him off the hook, if you know those were his guys at the airport?"

  "There was no need to push it. I know and he knows I know. I just wanted to be sure what he was up to."

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  "What is he up to?"

  "He thinks I'm the assassin," Karbenko said.

  "Are you?"

  "If it was me, buddy, he'd be dead by now," the Russian spy said.

  "Why'd you give him the song and dance about the Colony Astor Hotel ?"

  "If he put men out searching for us, they might get lucky and find us," Karbenko said. "This way, he can tie up his men at the other hotel and they won't bother us."

  Remo nodded. The Russian colonel was impressive.

  "This man is impossible." Nina spat out the words, then wheeled and pointed toward Chiun who sat on the floor, his arms folded under his saffron kimono, looking impassively at the motel wall.

  "What happened?" Karbenko asked.

  "I wanted to watch television," the premier's wife said. "He told me I should not because all the shows were obscene. If I wanted a good story, he said, he would tell me one. Finally I succeeded in getting the television turned on. I was to watch the news. He told me I should not watch the news. That they were showing pictures of some fat man."

  "Yes?" Karbenko said.

  "The fat man is the premier. His picture was on the television. Now what do you think of that?"

  Karbenko looked at Remo. Remo shrugged.

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  "Maybe your husband ought to lose some weight," he said.

  "Then he broke the knobs off the te
levision set so we could not watch it."

  "Philistines," Chiun said. "The Russians were always a people without taste."

  "Where is the premier ?" Karbenko asked.

  "He is in the next room. Watching the television there," Nina said.

  "I hope his eyes rot," Chiun said.

  "I guess you didn't like Chiun's movie," Remo said.

  "We began to get tired of it after the first hour," she said. "So we asked him to stop."

  "A Russian could lie in a field of flowers and complain of the smell," Chiun said. "There has not been a sensitive Russian since Ivan the Good."

  "Ivan the Good?" Karbenko said. He looked at Remo, a question mark on his face.

  "Right," Remo said. "Chiun's family did some work for him once. He paid on time. That raised him from Ivan the Terrible to Ivan the Good."

  They left Chiun staring at the wall and went through the open door into the next room.

  The premier was sitting on the small single bed, smiling.

  "I have been much on your television, American," he told Remo.

  "What did they say?" Karbenko asked.

  "That I am visiting America to confer with the President about the deaths of our three ambassadors. That our mission here has refused to give any details of my whereabouts or my schedule."

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  "Good," said Karbenko.

  But the premier did not hear the comment. His eyes were fixed, almost glazed, looking at the TV tube.

  "Look, Nina. Look," he said, pointing at the tube. "That is where we are going."

  Remo and Karbenko leaned over to look.

  It was a commercial for Florida's Disneyworld.

  Nina nodded.

  The premier said. "I want to go there."

  "When?" Karbenko said.

  "Why not now?"

  Karbenko thought for a moment.

  "Why not?" he said.

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  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  At 9 o'clock that night, the premier and his wife, along with Remo, Chiun, Karbenko, and the Russian spy's four top men, were on a private plane heading for Orlando, Florida.

  Ten minutes earlier, Admiral Wingate Stan-tington had learned, in his condominium apartment at Washington's Watergate Complex, that the Russian premier had never checked into the Colony Astor Hotel.

  "That son of a bitch," Stantington swore as he slammed down the telephone. Karbenko had done it; he had gotten himself along somewhere with the premier and was just waiting his chance to gun him down.

  Not if Stantington could help it though.

  Within an hour, his men had found the budget motel where the Earp family had been registered. And only a half hour later, they learned of the specially chartered plane that had left Washington on its way to Orlando.

  They checked all the hotels in the Orlando area, before they found one with a block of four rooms registered to Doctor Holliday and family.

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  Doc Holliday. Karbenko's cowboy passion had given him away.

  The hotel manager confirmed that the large group had ordered four taxicabs in the morning to take them to Disney world.

  Admiral Stantington sat alone in Ms apartment for an hour, thinking, before he made up his mind.

  He would not let Vassily Karbenko assassinate the Russian premier on American soil.

  And if there was only one way to stop him, that was the way Stantington would take,

  Vassily Karbenko was as good as dead.

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The premier wanted to go as an American.

  "I want to walk the streets and alleys of Disneyworld, like American peoples. I will mingle among them. No one will know we not American."

  Karbenko's four KGB agents looked at each other, then they all nodded.

  Remo looked at the premier. He was wearing a Hawaiian plaid shirt, and a large straw hat, and big tinted sunglasses as a disguise. But he still had a face like a mudslide and anyone who had seen his picture on television was not likely to mistake him for anyone else.

  The four taxicabs arrived on time. Remo, Karbenko, the premier, and Nina crowded into one cab. Two KGB agents rode in the first cab and two more in the third. Chiun insisted on riding alone in the last cab, because he would not share a taxi with Philistines.

  "Remember, Chiun," Remo said. "We've got to keep him alive. Nothing else matters."

  "Trivia," said Chiun. "All my life is bogged down with trivia."

  At the gate, the Russian contingent ran out of

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  money for entrance fees. Disneyworld did not take credit cards, nor did it recognize the International Monetary Fund or Russia's natural gas reserves. This decision was based on the judgment that Russia's natural gas reserves might well run out before Disneyworld did, Disney-world being an eternal and replenishable resource needing only fresh paint and teenagers who could run around dressed like mice and ducks.

  Fortunately, Remo was carrying money and he was able to pay the $2,365.00 in cash for two days of rides for the group. This left the premier with enough money to buy "diplomatic necessities." Everybody got a diplomatic necessity. Karbenko's four KGB men got the winding kind, and the premier and Nina got the digital kind where Mickey Mouse's face appeared and lit up when the diplomatic necessity clicked off noon and midnight. Chiun got one too and proclaimed his love for Russia.

  The monorail led over lush green fields with manicured trees. A large perfectly blue lake glistened in the late morning sun. One of the KGB men wondered if they dyed the lake blue.

  When they got off the monorail they were greeted by the rich smell of fresh popcorn. To their left was a bank which would translate the cotton crop from Russian Tashkent into American dollars. The Russian cotton crop got the contingent through Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Pioneer World.

  Chiun wanted a Davy Crockett hat. The premier decided to buy one for everybody, so one of the KGB men was sent back to the Disneyworld

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  bank where he negotiated away mineral rights in the Ukraine, and brought back a satchel of cash to the premier who was waiting at Polynesian World.

  The mineral rights also paid for a grass skirt for Nina and Mickey Mouse heads made from coconuts and sea shells.

  "This is very nice," Chiun said to Remo, pushing the Davy Crockett tail out of his eyes. "But you are a liar."

  "What now?" Remo said.

  "Once you took me to a place and told me it was Disneyworld. But that wasn't Disneyworld. This is. You lied to me."

  "Chiun, just keep an eye out so that nothing happens to the premier."

  By now the Russian party was hungry and the premier found out that the entrance fees did not pay for lunch. Another KGB man was sent back to the main Disneyworld bank, with a promise of two months' tractor production. This allowed everyone to have soft drinks and a meal. When they were done with the meal, no one got up.

  Remo asked why they continued to sit at the tables. The premier said the appetizers were a bit flat but he had high hopes for the main course.

  When Remo told him he had just eaten the main course, the premier said he would not give up the Balkans for anything, not even a piece of bread.

  Finally they settled for foot-long hot dogs, and Disneyworld got the rights to build a Black Sea resort and an option on the Urals.

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  The Urals did not entitle the Russians to arcade games or dessert.

  The premier missed the noon parade of Pluto and Donald Duck and Mickey and Minnie because the contingent was stuck in Future World and could not get over to the main plaza in time. The parade was free, there being no charge for eyesight.

  About 1 P.M., Nina confessed that she had the feeling they were looking at the same thing over and over again, with different colored paint.

  "There's a trick to telling one exhibit from another," Vassily Karbenko said. "If they have already clipped your ticket book, you've been there, I think."

  One of the KGB men on the Paddlewheel
er ride wanted to shoot real bullets into the imitation fort to see if anything would happen. Karbenko told him no because he might need his bullets to get out of there if they ran out of money.

  Remo said to Chiun, "No sign of any trouble yet."

  Chiun looked at his Mickey Mouse wristwatch.

  "You have forgotten the lesson of the Great Ung," he said.

  "Instantly," Remo agreed.

  "Idiot," Chiun said.

  Nina wanted a doll from It's a Small Small World, and got one on the premier's promise to conclude a SALT agreement as soon as possible. By now, Nina had a large shopping bag filled with souvenirs.

  When they passed the haunted house, there was a sign on the front of the building announcing it was closed for the day.

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  But a well-tanned young man motioned them to the entrance.

  "We've just finished making some improvements inside," he said. "We'd like you to test out the house as our guests. Before we open it to the public."

  "You mean free?" the premier asked.

  The young man nodded.

  "You do not want the Ukraine?"

  The man shook his head.

  "Our submarine fleet? No cutback in missile construction?" the premier asked suspiciously.

  "Free," the young man said.

  "Let's go," the premier said. He whispered to Karbenko, "Lenin was right. Given time, the capitalist system will break down."

  The heavy door clanged shut behind them as they entered the haunted house. Two of the KGB men led the way as they walked single-file down a long dark corridor.

  Remo walked in front of the premier and Nina and Chiun followed them.

  Up ahead, there was a faint light at the end of the long dark tunnel, and then they were standing in a large oak-panelled room with oil portraits of men in nineteenth-century garb mounted high up on the walls.

  A recorded voice announced that they were going back through time, to another dimension, and as the voice spoke the paintings around the tops of the walls began to change their visage and the men in them seemed to grow younger.

  Vassily Karbenko was gone.

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  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The electronic voice intoned, "And now, when the secret panel opens, move through the chamber of the past."