Piers Anthony - Jason Striker - 02 - Bamboo Bloodbath & Ninj

JASON STRIKER

MARTIAL ARTS

SERIES VOLUME II

JASON STRIKER

MARTIAL ARTS

SERIES VOLUME II

Bamboo Bloodbath & Ninja's Revenge

Piers Anthony and

Roberto Fuentes

Library of Congress Number:

Softcover

2001119025

1-4010-3351-2 ISBN #:

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission

in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

Orders@Xlibris.com

CONTENTS

BAMBOO BLOODBATH

Chapter 1 ..................................................................... 9

RUNNING THE LINE .......................................... 9

Chapter 2 ...................................................................34

HYENA ................................................................34

Chapter 3 ...................................................................46

THERA ................................................................46

Chapter 4 ...................................................................60

ILUNGA...............................................................60

Chapter 5 ...................................................................82

BRAINWASH.......................................................82

Chapter 6 ...................................................................97

CUBA ...................................................................97

Chapter 7 .................................................................116

TAO VS. KILL-13 ...............................................116

Chapter 8 .................................................................137

KI ........................................................................137

Chapter 9 .................................................................157

FIDEL .................................................................157

Chapter 10 ...............................................................177

EVERGLADES ...................................................177

NINJA'S REVENGE

Prologue: ...................................................................205

FALL OF THE BLACK CASTLE........................205

Chapter 1:.................................................................219

HIROSHI ...........................................................219

Chapter 2:.................................................................233

FU ANTOS .........................................................233

Chapter 3:.................................................................251

BASTARD BONES .............................................251

Chapter 4:.................................................................271

NYMPHO ..........................................................271

Chapter 5:.................................................................290

HOT ICE ...........................................................290

Chapter 6:.................................................................306

ASSASSIN ...........................................................306

Chapter 7:.................................................................336

MONK'S TREASURE ........................................336

Chapter 8:.................................................................362

DEMON ............................................................362

Epilogue: ...................................................................387

NINJA'S MINIONS............................................387

Glossary ....................................................................389

BAMBOO

BLOODBATH

Chapter 1

RUNNING THE LINE

I took hold of the lad's arm, tugged gently. He resisted, whereupon

I caught his left ankle with my right foot and swept it out

from under him in a de-ashi barai foot-sweep. His weight was on

that leg; he fell with a cry. He was ten years old.

Instantly I was on top of him, pulling his arm back in a jujigatame

cross lock till he shouted "Mate! I yield!"

I leaped at the next. He was twelve, and he weighed about

ninety pounds. I caught him with his hands down and pinned

them to his sides. I lifted his feet from the tatami, the judo practice

mat, twisted him to the horizontal, and set him down. There

was laughter in the dojo, the practice hall.

The next one was a fifteen year old, obese; he weighed almost

as much as I did, but it was mostly fat. I went over his head with

my right hand, forcing him to bend almost horizontally; then I

grabbed the back of his belt and went down in a fast sumi-gaeshi,

or back rolldown. He went over me; instead of letting go I rolled

on top of him and grabbed him in a yoko-gatame holddown.

10

So it went. I was "running the line" with my judo students,

starting with the novices and working my way up to my black

belts. The object was to throw each one as rapidly as possible,

until I had met every one of them. This gave each student the

instructor's individual attention, if only for a moment, and that

was important. It also served to illustrate that I was still the master

here; every so often they needed a reminder that the old man still

had it.

Still, there was room for variation. Sometimes I played with a

beginner, a small kid, going in hard but not throwing him, making

it look as if he was really resisting, and even on occasion (but

very seldom!) letting him throw me. On the other hand, when I

met a cocky brat too big for his britches, I did the opposite, throwing

him several times very quickly with a variety of moves-or

even with the same move, making him look ridiculous. Sometimes

I would strangle him a couple of times for good measure. Never

hard, of course.

It always started fast, but as I encountered the more experienced

students at the other end, it slowed. They were harder to

throw-my instruction would have been worthless if they weren't-

and I was no longer fresh. The last two or three could be real

bastards. But I had to throw them, and in reasonable time, or I

would lose the respect of the group.

I grappled with a green belt. He had good promise, but was

too timid to know it. So I eased up, trying a couple of moves I

knew he could block, making him look good. Instruction is more

than merely physical; I tried to inculcate confidence and courtesy,

too. Then I put him down with a harai-goshi-a sweeping loin

hip-throw-and moved on.

One after the other, I put them down. I lost track of the number;

I wanted only to get on through and proceed with the formal

class session. Each time I ran the line it was rougher, because all

my students were getting better, learning my tricks, and I had too

many students at the moment. In time the size of the classes would

11

whittle down. Then I would have to worry only about paying the

rent.

Hardly looking. I tried a foot-sweep on the next okuri ashi

barai. He fell, but did not release his hold on my sleeve. The kimono

stretched tight across his chest as he twisted, and pulled

halfway up to his shoulders.

She!

He? One white globe of flesh showed under that twisted shirt.

I have taught many women self-defense, but this particular

class was all male. What was woman doing in the line?

My surprise interfered with my concentration, and her yank

on my sleeve pulled me down so that I barely avoided falling on

top of that handsome breast. I have quick reflexes but this was

happening in mid-throw. I spun to the side, rolling on my shoulder

while the girl raised her legs and flipped to her feet. There was

another tantalizing flash of her bosom, her breasts bouncing together,

before the shirt fell back, covering it.

I sat up on the mat, bemused and dismayed. No student should

have thrown me like that, especially not a girl, and most particularly

not a strange one. Of course I had been trying to disengage

when she made her move, but who would believe that? My students

were already chuckling at my embarrassment-those whose

eyes had recovered from the girl's startling display of anatomy. It

would be hell to get them oriented on basic judo practice after

this.

She looked my way, enjoying the commotion, and now I got a

good look at her face. She was a platinum blonde, her long hair

almost white, and her green eyes were heavily painted with deep

shadows. She was using some kind of far-out makeup, with white

lips and powdered skin, the powder perhaps concealing a tan. She

had long false eyelashes and longer silver nails.

I knew I had never seen her before; but something about the

bones of her face, and particularly her manner, nagged me. I have

a fair memory for distaff beauty-and she was a beauty, despite

the baggy judogi uniform, or gi, she wore.

12

Then it clicked. "Thera Drummond!" I exclaimed. Her hair

had changed completely, from moderate-length brown to long

blonde, and she had put on weight in provocative places, but it

was her.

She smiled. "At your service, Jason Striker. Your memory must

be fading with age, like your judo skill. Can I give you a few

pointers in technique?"

"She's got pointers, all right!" one of the black belts commented

admiringly. That wasn't strictly true, as she was manifestly bra-less

under the gi; I like the soft rounded bouncy effect of the unbound

bosom, but "pointers" is not the applicable description.

"Let me give you a hand, old man," Thera said. "I'll raise you."

"She sure will!" someone called. "Stiff and tall!"

I needed no assistance to stand, either way, but I played along.

Class discipline was already a shambles; I could only aggravate it

by getting stuffy. What was Thera doing here? I hadn't seen her in

months, and had thought she was away at college. I reached up to

take her proffered hand.

A mistake! She wasn't through fooling with me, as I should

have known. She didn't pull, she pushed, with the result that we

both went sprawling, with her on top of me. Possibly by accident,

but more likely by design, her left breast landed in my face with

tangible impact. It was a good breast, long since graduated from

the orange league to the grapefruit league or even beyond, and I

suppose she wanted me to know it.

"Hey, I'd take a fall for you anytime, Jason," she said, twitching

her shoulder so as to make that breast move an enticing inch

under the gi, but no more than an inch. "Let's try that again."

There was more vigorous laughter from the line, even from the

ten year old. The students were enjoying this, and their eyes were

taking in every detail.

I disengaged my nose from her anatomy. "Cut it out, Thera!

This is a class!"

"You look tired," she said mischievously. "Why not let me

finish running the line?"

13

"Yeah, yeah!" the husky black belts at the end of the line agreed

eagerly.

I moved Thera off me and stood. "I'll talk to you after the

class." I said.

She caught my hand. "Jason, it can't wait."

God, she was as passionate as she was beautiful. But I had had

prior experience with her, and regarded her as one of my three top

prospects for avoidance. Nothing but trouble could come of this,

tempting as she was physically. "It'll have to."

"Jason, it's my father!" she said urgently.

Her father: millionaire industrialist Johnson Drummond. He

had once paid me a pretty figure to tutor his pretty daughter in

self-defense, and he hadn't cared what else she learned in the process.

He was tough and unscrupulous, but I understood why; it

was the natural mode of the born moneymaker. But in his daughter

the same qualities were not so appealing.

"He knows where to reach me," I said. I turned to the class

and bowed to the next student in line, signaling the resumption of

our exercises.

But Thera just wouldn't let go. "You must come with me now!

His life is in danger!"

"So you came to play games with my judo class!" I snapped.

"I shouldn't have," she admitted. "But I just couldn't resist,

and at least I got your attention in a hurry. Now I'm serious. You've

got to come talk to Daddy."

I had to get rid of her, that was certain. I couldn't do it while

there was a male audience for her to play to; she'd be running

around the dojo naked pretty soon if she thought that would help

her get her way. "Arny, take over. Randori!" I called. That meant it

was time for the students to pair off for mock fighting. Some tried

for throws while others did mat work, while Arny watched. Sometimes

he would stand over a pair on the mat, so as to prevent

others from stepping on them accidentally. It gets crowded when

a whole class goes at it, and we don't like accidents.

"Now, Thera, come to my office," I said.

14

"Sure thing," she said, jiggling after me. One student was so

busy watching her motions that he paid too little attention to

those of his opponent, and got ignominiously thrown. God! Before

the day was out the rumor would be all over town: Jason

Striker was seducing sexy girls in his office. Thera was trouble when

just passing through.

In the office I put it to her succinctly. "I am the trainer for this

year's American judo team," I explained. "We're a fifth-rate judo

nation, but this time we hope to put up a respectable showing.

The meet is only three weeks off. I'll be happy to help your father

-but not right now. It's all I can do to keep up with my regular

classes. This team assignment has priority."

"But he's been threatened! We can't wait three weeks!"

"Let him hire a bodyguard. He can afford it."

"Jason, you just don't understand!" she said. "They're going to

kill him! Horribly!"

"Is there a nice way to kill?" I asked dryly. But my resolve was

wavering. I did owe Johnson Drummond a favor or two, and Thera

was not the type to go into hysterics over trifles.

"He's sent for Diago, but you know how it is, it takes a while

to locate Diago."

I knew. Diago was a top flight martial artist, distantly related

to Thera-something of a black sheep-and he was in trouble

with the law. He had to stay hidden whenever he was in the States,

and he could not afford to trust many people. Drummond had

resources, but locating Diago was bound to be slow.

"Dad's going to be killed tonight or tomorrow. I know it. He's

afraid of everyone. He's dismissed all the help, and he won't talk to

strangers. But he trusts you, Jason."

"Sounds like a case for the police," I said uneasily.

"They don't provide bodyguards for private citizens, and anyway,

it wouldn't work. This isn't ordinary murder! And Dad would

be sure the policemen were really killers in disguise. He could be

right; the killer may have them in his pay."

"That's paranoid," I exclaimed.

15

"Maybe if you ever had more money, you'd know what it could

do, Jason. We know. We can't trust the police-not for this. Those

who trusted the police are dead."

This didn't add up. Drummond was no coward, and neither

was his daughter. They weren't paranoid, either, just imperiously

rich.

"What good could I do?" I asked. "If what you say is true, he'll

think I'm in the pay of his enemy, too."

"No! I told you, he knows you and he trusts you. He was

going to offer you a lot of money to be his bodyguard, but I told

him that'd drive you off in a huff. So I came myself." Her eyes

looked pleadingly into mine, and it was effective because I had the

feeling she was not putting on an act. "Jason, please. Will you?"

A lot of money . . . It was true that I tried not to let money

influence me too much, but it happened that I was unusually

hard up at the moment. That seems to be chronic in the trade; few

teachers make fortunes, and martial arts teachers are no exception.

Many go broke, in fact.

Thera pulled on my arm, making me face her. Her eyes were

teary, a fetching effect. "Jason, it's not for me! If it's money you

want, you can have it; Dad will pay anything! If it's something

else, well, I know you liked me once, and there won't be any strings."

"Shut up!" I yelled explosively.

She actually got down on her knees before me. "I love my

father. I don't want him dead! What do I have to do to make you

help him?"

Brother! She was pulling out all the stops. I realized I'd probably

be better off to check this out now, rather than suffer her

further blandishments. And, in truth, I had liked her once. Maybe

it hadn't really worn off.

"All right, I'll go talk to your father," I said.

"I knew you would!" she exclaimed, delighted. She tried to

kiss me, but I fended her off "My car's right outside."

"We'll use my car!" I said, remembering the way she drove.

16

Better to face an armed berserker . . ."It won't be as fast, but at

least we'll get there alive."

Docile enough, she acquiesced. She stepped into a dressing

room and changed out of her gi within a minute. She had always

been quick at manipulating her clothing. I just had time to give

more instructions to Arny and dive into my own street clothes.

My students, seeing me dressing on the run, shirttails flying, chuckled

knowingly. What could I say?

We drove sedately across town toward her father's estate.

"Was it really so bad between us, Jason?" Thera asked wistfully.

"It's past history," I shrugged, "I've known other girls before

and after you. Some better, some worse."

"But things are changed now. I'm older-"

"Age has nothing to do with it! You said you wanted to marry

me-"

"And you said I'd have to be a black belt in judo and get two

years of college-"

"And long before you did either, you fornicated with my friend

and top student-"

"Who is dead because of you!" she cried angrily. "I loved him!"

That hurt. There was too much truth in it.

"I'm sorry, Jason," she said after a moment, contritely. "I didn't

really love him. I thought I did at the time, but-well, he was

available, and you weren't, and I was young. The more I learn

about men, the more you stand out. I was wrong . . . but I'm learning.

Learning how right you were the first time, and how right I

was to want to marry you. You're teaching me yet, just as you

taught me judo. Can't we-"

"No!"

"I guess you meant it when you said you'd met someone better."

"Yes. A Chinese girl. Kung fu,"

"Why didn't you many her, Jason?"

"She's dead."

God, that memory hurt!

17

Thera sighed ruefully. "I just keep striking out! Well, tell me

about the worse one."

That was easy. "Latin. She's married. She tried to kill my fiancee,

and maybe succeeded, and I-oh, forget it!"

"So you really aren't currently attached."

"I don't know."

"Oh, so you're holding back on me!" she said with a mock

affront. "There's yet another girl."

Actually, I had been thinking of my Chinese fiancee; I loved

her yet. But I felt too ornery to say that to Thera. "No girl. She's a

woman. A drug addict. I call her the Black Karate Mistress."

Thera laughed. "Now you're pulling my leg! Here-I'll help

you." She lifted her right leg and crossed it right over her left and

into my lap-a fair contortion, in a car. But then, she had always

been athletic. All my girlfriends tend to be; I'm attracted by physical

competence.

I was pulling her leg in a way-but there actually was a woman

such as I had described. That was a whole separate story, however.

Or so I thought at the time.

"For God's sake!" I exclaimed as my hand, reaching for the

gearshift, smacked into her shapely calf. I picked up her leg by the

ankle glanced across-and was treated to a striking view of her

firm inner thigh beneath her short skirt. Her panties had "I LOVE

YOU" embroidered in red-right in the crotch.

I almost drove off the road.

"A black woman-and an addict," she murmured as I finally

got her leg out of my way. "I really hadn't figured you for that,

Jason. You're so . . . so strait-laced, really."

"It's my judo ethic," I said, nettled. It was not the first time I

had been accused of being stuffy. "Don't make it more than it is.

She attacked me and injured me-damn near castrated me!-and

then she saved my life. I don't know whether she hates me or loves

me."

"Or you her," she murmured. "Unfinished business."

18

"No business of yours!" I said angrily. "Who gave you leave to

pry into my romantic life?"

"By the authority vested in me as one of your has-beens, I

pry," she said.

I tried to stifle it, but the laugh burst out anyway.

"Come on, Jason. How many of those girls did you actually

lay?"

"What?"

"Don't pretend you don't know the word. You're not that sheltered.

How many did you run the line with-all the way?"

Running the line-an apt analogy! "All of them," I said. The

strange thing was the confessions Thera was prying from me were

cathartic. I should not have answered her at all, but I couldn't help

myself.

"Don't you think I deserve an equal shot?"

"Now just a-"

"After all, you said some were worse than me."

What next! "Thera, I-"

"I'm no virgin; you know that. Why not permit me the same

lapses you've indulged yourself with? How can you hold my fling

with Jim against me, when you've done the same with at least

three other girls since then? I don't even profess the same moral

standards you do; mine are looser."

She was beginning to make sense. It alarmed me. All I really

had against her was that "fling" . . . and I had done worse myself.

Was I really a male chauvinist or hypocrite?

Reaching for her blouse, she said, "Let's stop right now and-"

That was too much. She had overplayed her hand. Theoretically

we were going to save her father's life. "I'm no casual stud for

nymphos," I said harshly, to cover the fact that I had been more

than a little tempted. Sighting down a well-formed leg has a peculiar

but powerful effect on me. In fact, I become tempted to augment

vision with touch.

She sighed. "Damn! Almost had you that time."

A fair analysis. Still, she had made me think, and to re-evalu-

19

ate my personal inclinations. On that basis, I had to deem Thera a

current prospect, rather than a defunct one. She really had done

me less injury than I'd supposed, and she had a lot to recommend

her.

We pulled up at the estate. There was no guard at the gate-

evidence that Drummond really had dismissed his help. It seemed

foolish, if his life were really in danger; but the pressure of fear can

do strange things to people. Drummond, evidently, was not accustomed

to an immediate, personal, physical threat to his existence,

and didn't know how to handle it.

The door was locked-an almost pitiful precaution, considering

the number of large plate-glass windows in the house. Any

serious murderer could readily enter.

"Daddy, it's me!" Thera called. "I brought him,"

In a moment Drummond opened the door himself. He was a

husky, well-fed man, but now he looked haggard. He could not

have slept well or eaten well in several days.

He shook my hand vigorously. "God, am I glad to see you,

Striker!" he said. It was the obvious truth.

"Thera would not take no for an answer," I said.

"Whatever she offered you, consider it doubled! Striker, I want

you with me!"

"She mentioned money and sex," I said, nettled again. These

people thought anything at all could be bought, if the price was

right. The irony was, ninety per cent of the time they were quite

correct.

"I'll go fix us something to eat," Thera said quickly. She strode

out of the room without a backward glance.

Drummond smiled briefly. "She's a big girl now. Age of consent.

I could wish my daughter were more circumspect, but . . ."

He shrugged. "How much?"

"Don't worry. I turned her down."

Again he smiled, even more briefly. "I was referring to money.

"So was I."

"Striker, name your figure!"

20

I thought of Thera's figure, but resisted further by-play.

"Drummond, I didn't come here for money or sex, even though I

know you've got a lot of the one and she's got a lot of the other. I

came because you've bailed me out a couple of-times and I figure I

owe it to you. I don't know whether I'll stay. But if I do, it won't

be for a fee."

"Yes, Thera said you'd be that way." He sat down in an easy

chair, gesturing me to do the same. "But I'm a money-oriented

man, Striker. I've got to pay for what I get, or I don't trust it."

"Thera said your life had been threatened."

"I want-you for three days; twenty-four hours a day. When I

sleep, I want you next to me; when I sit on the pot, I want you

there. The moment I am alone may be my last. Once the time is

up, I'll be safe. Shall we call it five thousand for the duration?"

Five thousand dollars for three days' work! He was one-tracked

on money, all right! "No fee, I told you! What was the nature of

this threat-mail, phone, personal?"

"You have assumed the training of a number of new students,"

he said. "They were formerly at a rival studio-"

"Dojo, not studio," I said. "Associate, not rival." I didn't see

the relevance to his problem, but at least be was off the subject of

money. Just as well; his money, like his daughter's body, was underhandedly

tempting. Five thousand dollars would magically convert

my estate from red to black.

"Why do you train them?" he inquired.

"Their original dojo went out of business. These things happen."

"Why did they all come to you? Surely some would have preferred

other dojos?"

"They had to come to me, or lose their money. They're all on

contract. Look, we're wasting time! Why are you afraid for your

life?"

"On contract. Does that mean they have to train with you. as

in baseball?"

Why his questions? "No," I explained, "they're paying, not

21

playing. Martial arts interest tends to be transitory, so many

senseis-trainers, to you-can't earn a living on drop-out students.

The bills have to be paid, even if no students show up. So they

require a contract: so many lessons at such and such a price for the

package. It's a good deal, for the serious student."

"And the drop-outs?"

"They have to pay for the full course anyway. They know that

when they sign. Without contracts, many dojos could not stay in

business; they need to be assured of a regular income."

"Do you use such a system in your own dojo?"

"Contracts? No. My students pay only for the lessons they

receive. That's just the way I work. Now, if you'll just answer my

questions-"

"In a moment, Striker. You have many drop-outs?"

"The usual percentage. But I don't think any of them would

be a threat to you, if that's what you're driving at."

"So you don't make much money," he said.

Oh-so that was it. I sighed. "Not much. But I'm choosy

about how I make it, so if you don't mind-"

"That is why I trust you, Striker. You can't be bought. You

will take money only for services rendered and you will not -

render an illicit service."

I smiled. "Yes. Now we understand each other. So you can

stop trying to pay me for-"

"Not quite. I require a service of you, and I will pay." He

raised his hand to forestall my objection. "But who do your inherited

students pay?"

"A finance company. It took over their contracts when their

dojo closed."

"And the finance company pays you?"

"No," I said shortly.

"Then why do you train them, if you receive no payment?"

"It isn't right to make them pay for nothing, when they are

not at fault. That sort of thing gives the field a bad name."

"So you train them for nothing? Because of principle?"

22

"I'm not the first to do that. There are some bad apples in the

arts-fake senseis who put on a big show and sign up many students,

then deliberately skip town and open a new dojo under

another name and start all over. These unscrupulous operators hurt

the business for all of us. I'd like to see them all in jail! But meanwhile

there is the problem of the students. A responsible sensei

will-"

"What finance company is involved?"

"General Loans, Inc. But don't blame them; they made a business

investment, and they advanced money to the failing dojo in

good faith. They have a right to-"

"I own General Loans."

"I'm not surprised," I said, surprised. I hadn't known he was

into that kind of enterprise; but of course he was into everything

that had the smell of money. "Well, you made a good investment."

"I shall reimburse you the value of those students' contracts-

the amount you should have earned if they had signed with you I

think this is the ethical thing to do, since you are already training

them, and since you are not at fault in the failure of the other dojo.

Do you agree?"

But then General Loans would be taking a loss!"

"If a finance company keeps money at the expense of innocents

-and you, sir, are a financial innocent-it looks bad. That

sort of thing gives the field a bad name. Sometimes a sacrifice has

to be made for the benefit of the industry . . . as you pointed out

just now."

"I-" But he had me, oh so cleverly. He'd known all about

training contracts and my connection with his company, of course;

Johnson Drummond knew all about all of his business interests.

Which was one reason he was rich.

I should never have tried to debate the ethics of finance with a

professional. He had destroyed my position as readily as I would

have destroyed his body, had he attacked me with a knife. It meant

a sizable payment-enough to relieve me of my present difficulties

and keep me flush for some time. Five dollars per lesson for

23

each hundred-lesson contract, and twenty transfer students

. . . $10,000 total!

"Now I ask you as a friend," Drummond said. "Will you stay

with me for three days-at no charge?"

What could I do? "Tell me your problem."

For answer, he handed me two pieces of paper. One was a

check for $10,000, already signed. The other was a crudely scrawled

note on a torn fragment of a grocery bag. "TWO MILLION. TWO

HUNDRED THIRTY-FOUR THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED

FIVE DOLLARS. EIGHTEEN CENTS."

There was no signature-just sketch like a child's drawing of a

dog, hardly recognizable. And overall, a smudge.

I looked up. "A practical joke!"

He shook his head. "No."

"There's no-no inducement. Your daughter has not been kidnapped,

no bomb has been planted. And no instruction for delivery

of the money. Just a figure chosen at random. How do you

know it's even a threat?"

"That figure is not random. it represents precisely ten per cent

of my immediately liquifiable assets as of last month."

Immediately liquifiable assets . . . That would be savings accounts

and the like. Only a small portion of his actual wealth, most of which

would be invested in real estate, stocks, bonds and God knew what

else. And still a figure a thousand times the size of what I could ever

make in a year. But what point to dwell on that? "A tithe," I said.

"But how could anyone know your worth, except you?"

"Only my accountants. I thought they were absolutely trustworthy.

You can see why I have been firing people recently."

"Yes."

Thera returned with a tray. "It's not much, but I never was

much of a cook-and it's getting scary in the far corners of this

house." She saw the note. "Yes, that's real, Jason. It's the way the

Hyena operates."

I shook my head unbelievingly. "If I received such a note, I'd

throw it away and go to bed."

24

"You could afford to," Drummond said. "You have wealth to

rival mine-only yours is all invested in physical combat expertise.

That's why I want you with me . . . when the Hyena comes."

Thera had brought hot chocolate and sweet rolls-not my idea

of good nutrition, And she was right; the drink was thin and the

rolls were burned. She was no chef. "What's this about a hyena?"

"I suppose you would not be in a position to know,"

Drummond said. "He doesn't bother with anyone worth less than

ten million dollars."

"See that paw-print?" Thera asked me, pointing to the smudge.

"That's the key. It's genuine. We had it checked out."

"An actual hyena print?" I asked, bemused.

"Yes," she said. "Lab, zoologist, the works. A real live hyena

stepped on that paper, and not long before we got it. The mud

wasn't dry yet."

"But we don't have hyenas running loose around here!" I protested.

"Precisely," Drummond said "Coincidence is out of the question."

"I haven't seen anything in the newspapers about big shakedowns.

Are you sure-"

"It has been hushed up until the police can catch the Hyena.

Assuming they're not already in his pay. But word gets around, in

business circles as elsewhere. I know of six strikes by the Hyena,

and I suspect that's only half the total. A lot of people must have

quietly paid up. Now he's coming for me." And there was no doubt

Drummond took the threat seriously.

I set my inedible roll aside. "I guess I just don't think the way

a millionaire does! If I were threatened, I'd go to the police-or at

least double my guard. Or use electronic defenses. Or skip town

for a while. You're just sitting here, wide open for an invasion!"

"You're a liar," he replied. "If you were threatened, you'd stand

and fight."

Good point! But I tried again. "If you really believe you have

no protection, why don't you simply pay off and be done with it?"

25

"Why don't you take money for bodyguard duty?" he asked

in turn.

Piers Anthony - Jason Striker - 02 - Bamboo Bloodbath & Ninj

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: