"One problem," Mullin said. "Your Russian friends. How are they going to like your messing up their Olympics?"

"If you do your job well, they will never know it was us," Mkombu said.

"All right," Mullin said. He stood and tossed the piece of chicken with the two small nips taken out of it back onto the desk. Mkombu, he was sure, would eat it later. Waste not, want not. He started to the door.

"You forgot something," Mkombu said as Mul-lin's hand turned the door knob.

"Yes?"

"Don't you want to know the country whose athletes we will be killing?"

"It's not really important, Jim Bob, but go ahead. What country?"

"A major power," Mkombu said.

"Very good," Mullin said. He refused to ask which one.

"In fact, the world's most major power."

"Whatever you wish, sir," said Mullin.

"The United States of America, Jack. The United States of America."

Mullin nodded impassively.

"I want all their athletes dead," Mkombu said.

"Whatever you want, Jim Bob," Mullin said.

15

CHAPTER TWO

His name was Remo and he never played games. So instead of climbing up the side of the Hefferling Building in Chicago as he would have if stealth had been required, he walked in the front door, off North Michigan Street, just a wolf-whistle away from the Playboy building. He walked past the guard to the bank of elevators in the back.

As he waited for the elevator, Remo wondered how much energy it consumed to carry people to the higher floors. He thought that people would be much better off if they walked, and it would help solve the energy shortage too. He thought about running up the fourteen floors to the office of Hubert Hefferling, president of the Hefferling energy group, as his personal contribution to solving the energy crisis.