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.A bucket long overdue for dumping.The three-person staff of Senor Chorizo, all wearing minisombreros andsequined red felt vests over their aprons, had already jumped ship.As theywere all Guatemalan nationals, and not fully Americanized Californians, thesight of brutal murder did not immediately make them think about popcorn andan extralarge soda.It made them think of death squads, which in turn, sentthem on their heels, aprons flapping.This left a half-dozen heaps of decased sausage oozing on the grill.If there was perfume of the damned, this was it.Red chili.Cumin.Tumeric.Coriander.Garlic.A hint of clove.With a higher annual income than the GNP of some island nations, Chiz Grahamand Puma Lee could have had literally anything or anyone that their heartsdesired.But all they wanted was that slops bucket of chorizo grease.The security teams tracked Chiz and Puma with their weapons as the movie starsjumped the counter of the Mexican food shop in a single bound, like they hadsprings on the soles of their shoes.None of the security guys wanted to shoot.Or rather, they all wanted toshoot, but the consequences of such an act were too unthinkable.Shootingunarmed civilians in the line of duty was one thing; shooting unarmed famousand rich civilians was another.If the first was a no-no, the second was theEmpire State Building of no-no's.Chiz and Puma ignored all the handguns and shotguns pointed at their backs.They were too busy struggling over who would take the first gulp from thechorizo bucket.Both had a firm grip on the container's rim; neither wouldPage 74 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlrelent, though the sides of the bucket bowed outward.Neither would relentbecause he or she knew that to give the other the first taste would mean therewould be none left.With a loud crack, the bucket split down the sides.And the rich orange oilsplashed over their bare legs, shoes and the black tile floor.Chiz flung himself facedown and began lapping at the grease.Puma, now in fullcontrol of the slops bucket, took a moment to pour what little remained downher throat.Then she, too, played human rag mop with her tongue.They had cleaned about half the square footage of the floor when anotherbullhorn blasted at them from the far side of the counter."This is the LAPD SWAT team," said an unfriendly male voice."Put your handswhere we can see them and slowly, I repeat, slowly, rise up from behind thecounter."Chapter 25Remo checked the rental car's rearview mirror.At the gated entrance to Chizand Puma Lee's Bel Air estate, there were still no signs of life.Nothing hadmoved for better than an hour.That was when the mansion staff was herded offthe grounds by three guys in full riot gear.Remo was tired of sitting, tiredof looking up in the mirror and seeing zip.It was warm in the car, even withall the windows rolled down.The evening air was dead still.The only sound was Chiun's snoring.A low, steady rumble punctuated at irregular intervals by sharp pops.TheMaster of Sinanju slept sitting up in the front passenger seat, his torso heldin place by his shoulder belt.His napping wasn't a nodding-off every ten minutes, nor was it poor bloodcirculation to the brain, which one might expect of a normal, semisenileninety-year-old.One of the benefits of a lifetime of study in mind-and-bodycontrol was that the Master was able to sleep anywhere, anytime.To drift offand awake instantly refreshed, ready for action.Remo checked the clock on the dash.How could it possibly take Puma and Chizso long to get here? he asked himself.The judge had ordered them to proceeddirectly from their lawyer's office to the mansion, a journey of no more thanfifteen or twenty minutes by surface streets.To disobey the court's ordermeant both movie stars would go to jail.Which was why Koch-Roche had arrangedfor them to be escorted to their destination.It didn't figure that thesecurity guys would go along with a side trip to some intermediatedestination; what did figure was that something bad had happened.Somethingreal bad.Remo decided to call Smith.As he reached for the cell phone, it beeped.Heknew it had to be Smith calling him, since no one else knew their mobilenumber.At the sharp sound, Chiun's eyes snapped open.He gave Remo an irritated look,as if he'd been the one who'd caused the noise."Yeah, Smitty," Remo said as he picked up the phone."What's going on?"Chiun's expression mellowed and he yawned.The Emperor could do no wrong."A change of plans," Smith replied.Because they were talking on a cell phone,which could be monitored without their knowledge, the conversation had to becircumspect."The job lot you were sent to collect is no longer, on themarket.It was unexpectedly detoured, and another collector has taken controlof the targeted items.""Do I know the new owner?" Remo asked."A Mr.Black and Mr.White.""No chance of retrieval, then?""Not at this time.The situation is fluid.The outcome uncertain.""I take it, then," Remo said, "that we have another SpeeDee Mart situation inprogress?""Yes, only more extreme," Smith told him."Unfortunately, the matter is out ofour hands, perhaps for good.I want you to proceed to the next shop on yourlist.The item there is definitely in the same league.Once it is under yourcontrol, it may open up other profitable areas of search."Page 75 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html"Got it.Later
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