"It's always right to the chase with you, isn't it?" Remo said. He toed another rock into place. With a sharp kick, he launched it into the forest. There was renewed shouting as the stone struck a tree much farther in.
"Remo, I need to know," Smith demanded urgently.
"I'm not," Remo replied. "Chiun is."
"He is not with you?"
"Nope."
"Have you any idea where he has gone?"
"Into the Black Forest," Remo said. "Which isn't really all forest. Did you know that?"
"Yes," Smith said tersely.
"Really? 'Cause I didn't."
"Remo, I have come across information that indicates that Four is also in search of the Hoard. They plan to disrupt the economy of Germany by dumping the treasure onto the market all at once."
"So what?" Remo said. "I thought America was supposed to be all worried about Germany's big-shot new economy. I say let 'em wreck it."
"It is not that simple," Smith said. "There is an interconnectedness among economies in the modern age. And Germany's is one of the most complex of the Western world. If it topples, it could bring the rest down with it."
"Again," Remo said, "so what?"
"It could be the dawn of a new Dark Ages."
"Sinanju survived the first Dark Ages," Remo countered. "In fact, Chiun would probably be happy if the world economy collapsed. There'd be a whole slew of regional despots vying for our attention. It'd be an assassin's feeding frenzy."
Remo could hear Smith taking patient, calming breaths. He heard the rattle of one of Smith's pill bottles. The CURE director had just downed a few more baby aspirins.
"Remo," he said levelly, after the pills had gone down, "please be serious. Things could very well be as you say. If the world economy collapses, the type of people who would stand to benefit the most are those least suited to lead. We have encountered men from Four twice before. I cannot believe that you would want the likes of them leading the world. And I find it less likely that you would want to work for them."
Remo frowned. "You got that right."
Smith persisted. "Chiun, on the other hand, would have no such reservations. If he chose to throw in with Four, there would be an inevitable rift between the two of you."
"Where were you yesterday?" Remo muttered.
"What do you mean?" Smith asked.
"I mean it's already too late. Chiun took off this morning into the Black Forest with Adolf Kluge's band of merry Nazis to find the lost pile of gold." "You actually met Kluge?" Smith asked, shocked.
"So did you, Smitty," Remo said. "He's the guy who cracked you over the noggin in Paris. He's teamed up with Chiun and that girl we met in South America. They're going to divvy up the prize when they find it."
Smith was attempting to absorb this information. "You cannot allow that to happen," Smith urged. His lemony voice was tight with concern.
"Too late," Remo said. "The ink's already dry."
"You have to stop them, Remo," Smith insisted. "Chiun wouldn't listen," Remo explained, sighing. "He'd just be ticked at me for keeping him from his precious gold."
"Remo, I am ordering you to find Adolf Kluge and kill him." The serious treatment Smith was giving this was evident by his choice of words. Ordinarily he would substitute a euphemism for the distasteful kill.
"Hold that thought," Remo said all at once.
He heard a rumble of engines in the distance. For an instant, he thought Chiun was returning. He soon realized, however, that the sound was coming from the wrong direction. As he spoke to Smith, a line of drab blue official-looking trucks pulled slowly into view on the road in front of the inn. They headed off in the direction Chiun had taken.
"Hey, Smitty," Remo asked, "are they sending the army into the forest?"
"One moment," Smith said. Remo heard the drumming of Smith's fingers against his desktop. A moment later, he returned. "That would be the Federal Border Police," he said. "A letter was sent to the chancellor of Germany this morning identical to the ones E-mailed to the major brokerage houses in Frankfurt."
"Whoa," Remo said. "What letters?"
"I did not mention them?" Smith said. He sounded annoyed at his own forgetfulness. He went on to tell Remo about the notes that told of IV's plan to dump the Nibelung gold onto the German market.
"That doesn't make much sense," Remo said afterward. "Wouldn't they want the element of surprise?"
"Perhaps their arrogance is such that they don't feel concerned," Smith suggested.
"Maybe," Remo hedged. He didn't sound convinced. Brow furrowed, he watched the large column of trucks continue to roll forward into the forest. "Do you know what time those E-mails came in?" he asked.
"The first went to the chancellor at 9:00 a.m. The others were sent out shortly thereafter."
"That isn't right," Remo said, confused. "They left hours before that."
"Perhaps Kluge left a representative behind," Smith suggested. There was uncertainty in his voice.
"To rat him out?" Remo said skeptically.
"I will not pretend to understand the thoughts of a madman, Remo," Smith said. "I only know that if there is any truth to the legends surrounding the Nibelungen Hoard, Kluge would have enough raw capital to reestablish Four, as well as to ruin Germany's-and possibly the world's-economy. It is imperative that you stop him. Whatever the cost to your relationship with the Master of Sinanju."
"Cost." Remo laughed bitterly. "That's what this all comes down to." He sighed. "I'll see what I can do," he said finally. Standing, Remo hung up the phone.
With a half-dozen sharp kicks, he launched the last of the stones on the balcony in a final flurry. They impacted against the trunk of the already damaged tree, one right after the other. The last one to enter pushed the others forward roughly. The stones dumped from the far side of the tree as if from a primitive slot machine, dropping to the forest floor. All that was left in their wake was a clean, fourinch-wide hole straight through the trunk.
The men in the woods came tumbling out of the underbrush a few minutes later, scratched and panting. When they looked up at Remo's balcony, as they had several times after the loud noise, they saw that the strange American tourist was gone.
COLONEL FRIEDRICH HEINE bounced unhappily in the passenger's seat of the shiny blue jeep at the head of the long line of border police jeeps and trucks. He viewed the countryside through hooded, washed-out green eyes.
It was as if the ancient, gnarled trees around him were menaces over which to cast a suspicious glare. Heine was the commanding officer of the Federal Border Police regarding the matter dubbed "Siegfried's Revenge" by Berlin. The broad details of the situation had been explained to Colonel Heine by the German chancellor himself.
It was a tricky affair.
During the crisis in Paris a few months before, Heine had been in command of a detachment of border police sent to prevent civilian Germans who were sympathetic to the Nazis in France from swarming across the Rhine into the neighboring country. His job had been complicated by the fact that many of the men beneath him were in agreement with the evil cadre that had taken control of the French capital.
This morning, the chancellor had informed him that a shadow organization called IV had been responsible for the incident in France. The same group, it was explained to Colonel Heine, was now threatening to destabilize the government of unified Germany. Heine was to locate them in the Black Forest and stop them at all costs.