"Because the Master of Sinanju has returned to the world stage."
"A Master lives?"
"He lives, breathes, speaks and has offered his services to the highest bidder."
"Which cannot be us, I must remind you."
"Sinanju worked for Philip of Macedon. Possibly Alexander, too. Perhaps a yearning for the old days will entice him to Skopje."
In Skopje the president looked out of his office windows at the running River Vardar and his heart swelled. The nostalgia all Macedonians felt for the old days of glory was more potent than ever.
Surely, he thought, agreeing to recall his ambassador to discuss the matter further, the Master of Sinanju would feel the tug and pull of such days in his noble heart.
Chapter Thirty
When the next NOIWON came, the JCS chair was asleep in his chair, his head thrown back, his mouth open and snoring like a water buffalo.
"General, another NOIWON."
Snorting, the general pulled himself together, fumbled his wire-frame glasses onto his nose and asked the aide, "Does this concern the Mexico crisis?"
"I don't know."
"Ask."
"Yes, sir."
The aide came back saying, "It's not about Mexico, General."
"In that case, you take it."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. And I want a complete summary within the hour."
"Yes, General."
"And don't disturb me again if it isn't Mexico or the President. In that order."
And the JCS chair leaned back, folded his hands over his olive green gut and resumed snorting at the ceiling.
When he awoke two hours later, he was completely refreshed and summoned his chief aide by intercom.
"Coffee and that NOIWON summary. In that order."
"Mocha almond fudge or banana hazelnut?"
"Java. Black."
Sipping the steaming beverage, the JCS chair leaned back in his seat as the aide summarized the most recent NOIWON.
"CIA says the North Koreans have announced development of a new defensive weapon, Sinanju Chongal. 'Chongal' means 'scorpion.'"
"What's our source?"
"Rodong Shinmum."
"There's that word again." The general's face gathered. "Isn't Rodong their top-of-the-line ballistic missile?"
"I believe that's Nodong, sir."
"I seem to recall it's spelled 'Rodong,' but it's pronounced 'Nodong.' I wonder if there's a connection."
"Shall I look into it?"
The general frowned. "Skip it," he grunted, gesturing for the aide to continue his report.
"The Russians have claimed a weapon of their own. Zholti Zarnitsa. It means 'Yellow Lightning.'"
The general frowned more deeply. "Sounds to me like the Russian equivalent of White Lightning."
And the aide allowed himself a faint military smile.
"Goon."
"The British also claim to have developed what they call 'a frightful new weapon that will revolutionize modern warfare.' Their name for this device is the Wissex Vole."
"Wissex Vole?"
"Wissex is a town or county. Vole is some sort of burrowing animal, like a mole."
"The British possess a secret weapon that burrows! Could that be a ground missile? Something with a drill for a warhead."
"Seems unlikely. It might be just a name," the aide replied.
"What else?"
"The Turks call theirs the Whirling Dervish. The Germans, Donar. The Danes, Votan. Macedonia has Sveti Perun. These appellations all seem to be mythology-based code names."
"Is that all?" the general prompted.
"No. There are 121 others, much like the previous NOIWON."
"Do we have anything concrete, anything we've heard about before?" asked the JCS chair.
"Well, there is the Holy Spirit."