"It is time for the reckoning that has waited since the days of Kang."
"I thought you were off that ghost-ronin kick?"
"We fight the Nishi clan. There is no doubt of this. Take your katana, Remo."
Accepting the paper-wrapped blade, Remo led the way, Chiun following determinedly.
At the pavilion entrance, they were met by two stiff-faced Japanese greeters.
"You have heard of magrev?" one asked.
"We danced this dippy dance already," Remo said.
"One side, jokebare!" Chiun hissed.
"Senjin!" spat one greeter.
"Chanko!" snarled another.
At that, Chiun stripped his katana of its butcher paper camouflage and sliced their neckties off at the knot.
Faces whitening, the pair stepped aside.
"What's a jokebare?" asked Remo as they ducked into the Nishitsu pavilion.
"The worst thing you can call a Nihonjinwa, " spat Chiun.
Inside, Remo and Chiun found the autograph booth empty and a number of baseball and rail fans jostling about.
Remo collared one. "Where's Batsuka?"
"Ran off. Hardly gave six autographs. I tell you, these ball players have just got too big for their durn britches."
"Come on, Little Father. Something's wrong."
Moving in the direction indicated, they got barely twenty feet when they ran into Melvis Cupper and K. C. Crockett, walking arm in arm.
"Look, Remo! " squeaked Chiun. "It is Melvis and K.C. reunited."
"What are you two doing here?" Remo asked.
"I came to make amends," Melvis said. "We're on our way to ride the maglev, poisonous as that thought may be to a true-blue wheel-and-rail man like myself."
K.C. jabbed him in the ribs, saying, "Watch your mouth, Melvis. Remember that you are on probation."
"Sorry, K.C. What about you two fellas?"
"We're looking for Furio Batsuka," said Remo.
"Hell, you just missed him. I was just talkin' to him, turned my back a minute and he'd lit out slick as greased lightning."
"He saw you?" Remo asked sharply.
"Sure. Walked right up and introduced myself proper."
"Damn. He must have recognized you."
"What's that again?"
"Forget it," said Remo, hurrying on.
THE PAVILION REAR-EXIT door was open, and Remo and Chiun went through it.
Two husky security men with earphones were standing with hands down, clasping wrists in what Remo recognized as the semiofficial bodyguard stance.
"Where's Batsucker?" Remo demanded.
"Are you with Nishitsu?" one asked in impeccable English.
"Are you?" Chiun countered.
"Yes."
"Good," said Remo, taking one by the neck and the other by the throat. "Listen carefully, I'm looking for Furio Batsucker and I am in a very violent rush"
"His name Batsuka," the second man said thickly.
"Thank you for the elocution lesson." And Remo squeezed.
The one whose throat was caught developed a new coloration while the one Remo had by the neck heard the distant sound of his cervical vertebrae grinding.
Both suddenly changed allegiance.
"Hotel. Limo," one gurgled.
"Denver Hirton. That way," the other wheezed, pointing.
"I could use your car keys."
They couldn't get their hands into their pockets fast enough. Remo picked the set with the Mercedes key ring because he was in a Mercedes mood. Then he squeezed their necks to clamp off the last, sluggish blood flow to the brain. They made a sleepy pile.
"Much obliged," said Remo.
The Master of Sinanju pointedly stepped on their faces as he walked over them.
Soon they were burning rubber out of the parking lot.