"A masterless samurai."
"You mean he was free-lance?"
"Yes."
"My question stands. What would he want with my train?"
"To derail it," sniffed Chiun. "Obviously."
Major Grimm looked over the mess that was his Peacekeeper train. Dead, scalded airmen were being lowered down from the missile car. Other bodies were being laid out and covered with Air Force blue blankets, while the surviving security team attempted to sort out which unanchored head went with which truncated corpse.
And out in the field, corn was popping and hissing as the MX missile slowly melted into incandescent aluminum slag.
"When this gets out, they're going to bust me down to toddler," Grimm moaned.
"We still have a samurai to catch," reminded Remo.
"Ronin," corrected Chiun. "Why can you not get it right?"
Chapter 19
"There's only one thing to do," Remo said as he surveyed the stopped Peacekeeper train.
"What's that?" asked Major Grimm, whose expression now matched his family name.
"Take the train apart, car by car."
"This consist costs upward of sixty billion dollars. That's billion with a b. And I'm responsible for it."
"How low can they bust you down to?" Remo asked.
"I said toddler before, but now I'm thinking sperm."
"Maybe you'll meet a nice egg and get to start fresh," said Remo, starting down the tracks.
Grimm followed, feeling helpless, and the old Korean took to the other side. They walked from car to car, setting their ears to each car as they came to it.
Hearing nothing, they moved on.
At the equipment car, the second-last of the train, Remo stopped. Dropping to one knee, he signaled the Master of Sinanju on the other side.
Remo went to one end and Chiun the other.
The sound that came next was hard to describe. It might have been a coupler knuckle fracturing under pressure. That, of course, was impossible, Grimm told himself. It would take a collision to snap a tightbox coupler. Or a shaped charge.
No one saw what happened, but when Grimm saw Remo and the old Korean rejoin each other on the other side, they gave the last two boxcars a hard push.
The cars started rattling down the tracks, in reverse.
The sheared-off coupling came into view at that point. The broken face gleamed the color of new steel. The cars slowed to a natural stop.
Major Grimm waved a contingent of security airmen to surround the detached boxcars.
"We got him isolated from the rest of the train," Remo told him.
"What happened to that coupler?"
"Gave way," said Remo.
"It's a tight-box coupler. They don't break easy."
"This one did."
"Can't argue there," Grimm admitted.
"Watch this end," said Remo. "Come on, Little Father."
They went around to the other end of the boxcar, and this time the noise was like metallic thunder.
Then the end car was rolling free. The prairie was flat, so it didn't roll far. Just enough to isolate the equipment car.
Remo hovered beside the equipment car. "He's definitely inside."
"How do you know?"
"We can hear his heartbeat."
Grimm experimented with listening. "I don't hear anything."
"Rock and roll will do that to your eardrums."
Remo addressed the old Korean. "Okay, Chiun. Do we go in or just take the car apart?"
Chiun's face frowned into a tight mask of determination. "We must be careful. There is no telling what deceits this ronin has at his disposal."
"Why don't we just shoot the fool out of that thing?" Melvis suggested.
"We do things our way," said Remo.
"This man has an excellent idea," snapped Chiun. Spinning, the Master of Sinanju raised his voice in the direction of the Air Force security team. "Shoot the Japanese fool out of this car!"
Remo shrugged.
At Major Grimm's direction, a firing squad was assembled. They lifted their M-16s into line.
"Ready... aim . . . fire!"