Chiun stood unconcerned in the shadow of a bush trimmed by palace groundskeepers into the shape of a leaping tiger.
When Remo appeared in their midst, the Luzus reacted with raised spears and machetes. At a harsh word from Bubu, however, they let him pass. They returned to their crouches as Remo stormed up to the Master of Sinanju.
"Have you gone nuts?" Remo snapped at the maddeningly serene old man. "This is the goddamn presidential palace of East Africa you just sliced and diced your way through." He jerked an angry thumb at the natives. "Who the hell are these clowns?"
"They are friends of the House of Sinanju," Chiun replied blandly.
"Oh, yeah? Since when do we make friends?" He was interrupted by two Citizen Force soldiers who picked that moment to leap out from behind the last row of cars. The Luzus moved so fast, the soldiers' rifles proved irrelevant. Hurled spears pierced chests. Flashing machetes removed arms and heads. As the soldiers fell, the Luzus screamed a triumphant battle cry.
"And another thing," Remo asked, turning from the mauled bodies. "What's with these moves of theirs? That's pre-Wang if I've ever seen it, and according to the history you drilled into me, Pharaoh Ikhnaton's the last guy we sold the old techniques to. So unless these jokers are some wandering lost tribe of ancient Egyptians, I smell another Masters' Scrolls cover-up."
The blossoming look of anger on his teacher's face was all the proof Remo needed to know he'd struck paydirt.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed.
Chiun scowled. "Take your fanciful deductions elsewhere," he spit.
"You're not dodging this one that easily," Remo warned. "I assume they paid on time?"
"Always," Chiun retorted. But though the word was spoken sharply, there was just a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"And paid well, too, I bet," Remo accused. Chiun refused to be drawn in.
"Can I assume that since you have found the time to bother me that you are over your silly self-absorption?" he asked.
"Don't change the subject," Remo said. "Chiun, Smith is gonna go berserk over this. He's already ticked at me just for talking to one measly stranger."
Chiun's face was bland. "Why?" he asked. "Did you purchase more magic beans?"
"Very funny," Remo said.
More soldiers swarmed the area. Only one managed to get off a shot before the Luzus cut them to ribbons.
"It was some high muckity-muck in what's left of the government," Remo said, waving a hand at the mounting stack of bodies. "Smith was going to bench me and send you in, but now you've flown off on some crazy Edgar Rice Burroughs safari."
By this point, the number of Citizen Force soldiers had been greatly reduced. The Luzu warriors swept around the parked government cars, finishing off the cowering remnants of the presidential guard with quick machete strokes. A few distant soldiers fled on foot. The Luzus didn't give chase.
When the victorious warriors raced back to the Master of Sinanju, Bubu led the pack.
"Not you again," Remo groused.
The native ignored him. "The battle is ours, Master of Sinanju," Bubu panted.
Chiun nodded. "Let us hasten back to Luzuland," he intoned seriously. "We must inform your chief not only that his enemy has fled in fear, but that he must prepare his people for government retribution for our actions."
The barefoot Luzus took off like a shot, jumping the curb and flying back across the lawn. Before Chiun could sprint off with them, Remo snagged him by one flapping kimono sleeve.
"Wait a damn minute," he snapped. "You can't run off after all this. We'll probably have to get out of the country. Smith's gonna be shitting bricks when news of this massacre gets out."
Chiun's eyes were shards of hazel ice. "I am honoring a contract far older than Smith," he said hotly. "Sinanju worked for the Luzu Empire long before there even was an America."
"I'm sure that'll be a real comfort to him," Remo replied angrily. He threw up his hands in disgust. "Fine," he snarled. "Go traipsing into the jungle and reenact more scenes from Luzu Dawn for all I care. But I am not covering for you on this one."
Chiun's wrinkled face grew dark. "That is because you are a good son, Remo," he said with bitter sarcasm. "And good sons always turn like hissing vipers on their fathers in times of need. Tell your precious Smith whatever you want. And when you are through punishing me for your unjust world, perhaps you will find one minute to consider who you owe more to, Smith or me."
With that final biting accusation, he was gone. The old Korean became a flouncing green blur as he raced around the side of the building in the wake of the fleeing Luzus.
This wasn't how he'd wanted to leave it. Remo hadn't even had a chance to ask his teacher about the little Korean boy who seemed to be haunting his every step. Scowling from the sting of Chiun's words, Remo turned to go, as well.
Something caught his attention.
Standing among the corpses, he heard the sound of a lone car engine. It was coming up the long stone driveway behind a high hedge. Remo was ready to bolt when through a break in the shrubs he saw the shadowy image of a familiar face behind a tinted windshield.
He hesitated.
There might yet be a way to salvage this. Of course, he'd have to do it without Smith's approval. And in that moment, Remo came to what he decided was the most well-thought-out decision of his life. "Ah, screw it," he snarled.
Folding his arms over his chest, he waited for the approaching government car to find him ankle deep in bodies.
Chapter 12
The nervous chauffeur of East African Defense Minister L. Vas Deferens wanted to turn the government car around as soon as he spotted the first decapitated body sprawled across the great gravel drive at the rear of the palace.
"Sir?" the man asked anxiously, looking over his shoulder at his cold-as-ice employer.
"Drive!" Deferens barked.
Nodding, the driver skirted the body and continued along past the row of high shrubs that ran parallel to the road. Worried eyes scanned for machete-wielding Luzus.
Reports of the attack on the palace had been issued over the car radio. According to the internal defense ministry broadcast, the Luzu nation had taken up arms against the ruling government for the first time in more than one hundred years.
Until Minister Deferens had ordered complete radio silence, the news had been horrifying. Decapitations, eviscerations-it was an East Africa that hadn't existed since before the time of their greatgrandparents.
At this time of evening and with the president out of the country, there hadn't been many people inside the palace. A few terrified government workers had fled into the street. Deferens's driver wanted more than anything to join them.
Up ahead, two more bodies lay on the road next to the thick hedge. The driver stopped before the headless corpses.
"What are you doing?" Deferens demanded.
"More bodies, sir," the driver said tightly, struggling to keep down his lunch.
Two white hands gripped the back of the driver's seat. Deferens leaned far over to the windshield, his handsome face pinched. The chauffeur hoped the sight of the bodies would force his employer to come to his senses. He was ready to put the car in reverse and back the hell out of there when the defense minister glanced at him, his eyes flat.
"Drive over them," Deferens ordered coldly. The chauffeur looked at the mangled corpses. "Um, but sir..."
Deferens leaned very close to the man, bringing his perfect pale face an inch from the driver's ear. The defense minister's breath was sweet.