Remo's hand relaxed. He looked at Kluge's bright red bullfrog features. He glanced at the Master of Sinanju. The man who had given him everything in life. He hesitated.
"Smith's orders were clear, Little Father," Remo said.
"Pah! Smith's orders," Chiun mocked. "This gold will be with us long after Smith has issued his last demented decree."
Remo's grip had slackened to the point where Adolf Kluge was able to suck in a huge gulp of air. The IV leader wheezed painfully.
"Gold doesn't matter to me. Never has."
"It matters to me," Chiun insisted, eyes imploring. "Therefore it should matter to you."
Chiun had tossed down his trump card. Toying with Remo's affection for him. Remo knew that the wily Korean was only playing with his emotions. Unfortunately Chiun was right. Even though he was motivated purely by greed, it would hurt Chiun if Remo killed Kluge. For this reason alone, Remo couldn't bring himself to complete the act.
With great reluctance, he released his grip on the gasping IV leader.
Kluge hacked and wheezed alternately, dragging cold, ragged mouthfuls of air down into his oxygen-deprived lungs.
Chiun smiled. "You are a good son," he said proudly.
"No," Remo answered solemnly. His eyes were flint. "That's a load of baloney. You wanted to make me feel guilty, and it worked. End of story."
Chiun was taken aback by Remo's candor. "You were being rash. Sinanju needs that gold."
Remo shook his head sadly.
"I'm not buying it anymore, Chiun," he said. "You want the gold. Now you'll get it. The almighty buck has always been the love of your life. Maybe it'd be good for you to remember that that's what got Bal-Mung into trouble."
Remo turned abruptly away from the silenced Chiun. Marching past Heidi, he began walking alone across the vast, darkening lawn behind the rambling, old-fashioned inn.
He didn't look back.
HOUR FED INTO HOUR.
Night had taken firm hold of the ancient forest around the Pension Kirchmann. Elongated rectangles of amber light stabbed across the black lawn from the inn's brightly lit rear windows, marred only by the crisscross pattern of the painted wooden strips separating each pane.
Heidi Stolpe pulled her woolen coat more tightly around her shoulders as she crossed the sprawling lawn. Her years spent in South America had spoiled her. She wasn't used to such cold weather. And winter was only just beginning.
She found Remo sitting in the dead autumn grass, his back propped against the trunk of a huge European ash.
Remo's arms were crossed stiffly. He stared angrily at another nearby tree. If looks alone could fell a tree, the one Remo was scowling at would have already been halfway to the lumber mill.
Heidi stared at him for a long time. When he realized she wasn't going to go away, he finally looked up.
"What do you want?" he asked, flat of voice.
"I only wished to see that you were all right," she said gently. "Your father said you would be."
"You mean Daddy Warbucks stopped wheeling and dealing long enough to think of me?" Remo said, feigning shock.
"Do not be overly harsh with him, Remo. He is not a young man. Appreciate him for who he is." She paused, as if considering whether she should speak further. At long last, she continued. "I never knew my father," she whispered, staring wistfully into the forest.
"He isn't my biological father, Heidi," Remo said.
Her smile held an odd sadness. "I am not blind," she said softly. "But biology cannot be everything, can it?"
There was something deeply troubling in the way she said it, as if her life held some sorrowful burden that was almost too great for her to bear.
Her sadness touched him.
For a time years ago, Remo had searched for his biological parents. But when he learned the truth of the two strangers whose DNA he carried, he found that they could never replace the man he had come to know as his spiritual father. And here was Heidi-virtually a stranger to him-defending Chiun. Remo's heart went out to her.
"I'll get over it," he murmured.
Heidi smiled once more. She hugged herself for warmth. "Aren't you cold?" she asked, changing the subject.
He had worn nothing but a thin T-shirt since she met him. It had to be below freezing out here.
"No," Remo said simply.
She nodded. "I suppose I should get back inside. Before they cut me out of the deal altogether."
"How's it going?" Remo asked.
"Kluge wanted to divide it into thirds. He argued that this was how it was historically supposed to be."
"Chiun didn't go along with that," Remo said firmly.
"Not in the least." She laughed. "He still maintains that the deal we made is the one that supersedes all others."
"The one where he gets fifty percent," Remo said knowingly.
"Yes," Heidi said. "I eventually agreed to split my fifty percent evenly with Kluge, if only to get all of this over with. That seemed to satisfy them both."
"For now."
She agreed. From the way she stared off toward the bright lights of the inn, Remo could tell she was thinking about the future. "Kluge has trucks and men to haul the treasure. I think it is for this reason as much as any that Chiun is allowing him to live."
"You haven't known him long, but you know him well," Remo said with a shrewd smirk.
"He and I are very much alike. I am desperate to keep my family's property from falling into bankruptcy. It is a far worse thing, Remo, to have had money and lost it than to never have had it in the first place. We were nobles at one time. With the Nibelungen Hoard, we will be again."
"I don't know what the big fuss is about gold," Remo grumbled. "It's just like any other metal."
She squatted, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Tell that to the landlord when the rent is due," she said plaintively.
Remo felt an odd tingle of electricity from her touch. There was an air of mystery about her that he hadn't noticed before. Her concern for his relationship with Chiun and the way she shielded the secrets in her past-it was almost as if there was a strange connection between the two of them.