No, not a bet at great odds. Rather, a .357 Magnumbullet. A high-powered projectile beautifullydesigned to do a specific job very efficiently.Blam! Another shot, and Remo realized that he wason the short end of a zeroing-in process. What away to spoil a guy's day off at the golf course!He charged toward the sound of the rifle-fire.First straight and fast, then sideways withoutchanging direction...and another bullet whizzedpast. Stop, slow roll to the right, leading themarksman. From right to left, dodging, weaving,swerving, travelling the fairway like a crazedpin-ball; closing the distance between himself andthe sniper. Then he saw him. Them! Three face-blackened commando-types, paratroop boots anddull-green uniforms. Wow, just like a James Bondmovie!Later, after messing up the greensward a bit, Remocalled his chief to report that CURE, their secretorganization, was no longer secret. And perhapsthe Destroyer was getting too popular after all.