"Lout. It is an insult."
Remo gripped the wheel of the Chevy until his knuckles turned white. "Little Father, I've already told you a dozen times. We can't wait forever in a motel room. That's not what Smitty sent us here for."
"Imbecile. It is exactly what the Emperor sent us for. If we had waited just a few minutes longer, Mona Madrigal would have come. You have ruined everything."
"For crying out loud, Mona Madrigal doesn't even know we're here."
"Pah. In my village, when a Master of Sinanju appears, the whole village turns out to welcome him."
"Santa Fe's not in Korea."
"The Emperor will be mightily displeased. He sent us to this arid wasteland so that Mona could be presented to me. Now we have insulted his graciousness by leaving so rudely."
"Smitty doesn't even know who Mona Madrigal is," Remo shouted. "There are bodies lying all over the desert—"
"A mere ruse," Chiun said with exaggerated patience, wagging his eyebrows up and down. "Can't you see anything? Oh, I should never have accepted a white pupil. You understand nothing."
"I understand that we're supposed to go to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains," Remo said stubbornly. The car produced a series of sputtering, clanking sounds. "That is, if this junk heap will take us there."
With that, there was a scraping sound and then a clunk as the tail pipe clattered to the ground.
"You see?" Chiun grinned in malicious satisfaction.
"See what? I see we lost the freaking tail pipe." As soon as he spoke, two of the hubcaps sprang off the wheels. Remo watched in the rear-view mirror as they spun in lazy circles on the road far behind them.
"See that," Chiun said triumphantly. "This automobile is a sham."
"I can think of other things to call it," Remo said between clenched teeth.
"Emperor Smith never intended for us to drive it. It was part of the pretense. We should have waited in the motel room. The Emperor clearly wished to surprise me."
"Well, he doesn't surprise me. He probably picked up this rattletrap for twenty bucks somewhere, the cheap…"
The steering wheel came off in his hands. Seething, Remo tossed it into the back seat. He edged his fingertips into the steering mechanism to maneuver the car as if he were tuning a radio.
Chiun cackled mercilessly. "You see? You should have listened to me before. Now we must return to the motel. Perhaps Miss Madrigal is already there."
"Forget it. We're not turning back. All we need is another car."
The engine sputtered. Remo pumped the gas pedal. The car moved forward erratically.
"I can't believe it," Remo said. "The gas gauge is broken, too. I think we're out of gas."
Chiun folded his arms over his chest. "Perhaps you should tell me again, O brilliant one, how necessary this mission is."
"Can the sarcasm. We're in trouble. Hey, what's that up ahead?" He squinted. In the distance was a building with two rectangular objects in front of it. "I'll be damned," Remo said, visibly relieved. "A gas station. I guess we're in luck after all."
"What great good fortune," Chiun muttered.
A dark-haired young man leaped up when Remo pulled into Harry's Payless.
"Hey, nice car you got," he said, reaching in and fingering the upholstery.
Remo slapped his hands away in annoyance. "Do you mind? Just fill it up."
"Okay," the young man said affably. "Just taking a look, that's all. Say, you got a smoke?"
"No," Remo said. "Is there a used-car lot around here?"
"Nothing close. You know you got no steering wheel?"
"That's a real eagle eye you have," Remo said.
"I can fix it. Good as new. Only take a sec."
Remo looked at the young man. He seemed friendly enough. "Are you a mechanic?"
"I'm an Indian," the young man said proudly. "Sam Wolfshy. Got a stick of gum?"
"No," Remo said, exasperated.
"How about a couple of rubber bands?"
"What for?"
Wolfshy shrugged. "They're useful. Can't tell when you'll need one."
"I don't have anything except money," Remo said.
"Oh." The Indian looked down, disinterested.
"I'd like to buy a map."
"Inside," Wolfshy said. "Harry'll help you."
"I'll go with you," Chiun said. "These gasoline fumes are assaulting my nostrils." He got out of the car. "I will probably be dead of poison fumes before dawn," the Oriental droned. "Dead, without ever having met Mona Madrigal. The Emperor's gracious present will have gone to waste. Of course, returning to our motel might save my life. But don't consider me, Remo. What is the life of an old man?"
"That's big of you, Chiun," Remo said, striding into the station.
Behind the counter sat a skinny old man with arms like toasted bread sticks, reading a newspaper. He wore a bright flowered shirt and thick glasses that had slid down to the base of his nose.
"Ice machine's broken," he said, glancing up at Remo. "Won't be fixed before tomorrow." He gave his paper a shake and went back to reading it.
"I'm not here for ice. I need a map."
"No maps. Sam borrowed them all."