13

CHAPTER TWO

His name was Remo and he feared nothing.

All men's fears were based on one thing alone— breathed into her ear. "Show me around later?"

the fear of dying. It was what terrified an embez- His hand touched her back and did something to

zler; afraid he might be found out, and afraid he

would have to take his own life. It explained the ter- cushion.

ror of a child in the dark, or a grown-up hearing the sound of rats inside a wall. Every fear translated

into the fear of dying. "Sure- Sure-"

And Remo no longer had that fear. He no longer

worried about being killed, but only about whom he e later'

would kill and when.

He was an assassin, and knowing that he had power over life and death for others had given him a kind of peace he had never known before.

He felt that peace as he slipped into the hospital, strolled with a casual wave past a guard's desk, and

nodded to a middle-aged nurse, who took one look This was number one-

at the slim, thick-wristed, dark-eyed man and

wished that he belonged to her. nose rebelled at the smdl and his brain at the

Remo whistled peacefully as he rode in the eleva-

tor up to the intensive care unit on the third floor burned beans- Then he sat across from the other or'

and found a linen closet. Inside, a simple change of ^; , „„ , , ,

clothes made him an orderly. You the man? he asked.

He loaded his arms up with a pile of towels, walked into the intensive care ward and said to the young peppermint striper there, "How's it going to-

Remo asked. 14

night?" "What pool?"

The young woman took one look into his intense, dark eyes and felt the same shiver the nurse downstairs had felt.

"Quiet as a mouse," she said. "You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yup," he said. He leaned over her desk and, as he checked the list of patient names in the ward,