His name was Remo and the gymnasium was dark with only speckles of light coming from the ceiling-high windows where minute paint bubble had burst shortly after workmen had applied the first layer of black.
His name was Remo and he had not read more than one of the geology books shipped to him at the hotel in St. Thomas.
His name was Remo. He had just laced the skin-tight black cotton uniform around his legs, when the telephone rang in his room in the Hotel Nacional in San Juan, Puerto Rico.
His name was Remo. He tried very hard not to be bored, as if the threat were very real.
His name was Remo. And when he stepped up to the first tee of the Silver Creek Country Club in Miami Beach, he was mad.
His name was Remo, and he felt mildly sorry for the man who had erected the poorly hidden detection devices outside this elegant Tucson estate.
His name was Remo and he felt foolish wearing the coarse brown monk's robe.
His name was Remo and as he stood on the platform high in the darkened tent, he felt that his body was one with the forces of nature and he was the depth of all human strength.
His name was Remo, and he did not feel very special.
His name was Remo and he intended to interfere with local government very much.
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