"You are a disrespectful galoot," Chiun said.
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This was a new word he had learned only a few weeks before watching a cowboy movie and he was practicing using it on Remo. "Yes," he said. "Heh, heh. Just a galoot."
Suddenly, they heard the whistle of an approaching shell, and then felt a shudder as the shell hit and exploded near the mountain's base. Then they heard Moombasa's voice, shouting out over the loudspeaker.
"Fire. Destroy the British devil. Level that mountain. Not a stone left."
"We'd better get out of here before they get the range," Terri said.
"That probably gives us till next month," Remo said.
Chiun pointed toward the helicopter. "There is that whirly thing. Can you fly it?"
"If it's got wings, I can fly it," Remo said.
"Actually, it does not have wings," Chiun said.
"Actually, I can't fly it," said Remo.
"I can," Terri said.
"Thank God for liberated women," Remo said.
The shell bombardment was slowly getting closer and as the three clambered into the helicopter, a shell exploded only 20 yards from them on the hilltop.
Quickly and competently, Terri started the helicopter's motor and turned on the craft's lights. She looked outside at the hill, then jumped from the pilot's seat and ran back onto the hilltop.
"Remo, Chiun. Come quick," she called.
When they got to her, she was kneeling over the shell hole. At the bottom of the hole, the ground
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was glittering. Chiun reached in and pulled out a small pellet.
"Gold," he said.
"It's the mountain! The gold mountain. This is it. Yahooooo," Terri yelled.
They heard the whistle of another shell. It hit only 25 feet away and the concussion of the explosion pitched Terri onto her back.
She scrambled to her feet and shook her fist in Moombasa's direction.
"It's the gold mountain, you imbecile!"
From his vantage point below, Moombasa saw only a figure on the edge of the hill shaking a fist at him.
He picked up his loudspeaker and bellowed, "Taunt me, Englishman? We will destroy you. Fire. Fire. Fire. Bury that hill in the dirt."
Remo and Chiun helped Terri Pomfret back into the helicopter and she lifted the craft. It hovered for a moment, and then swooped down along the far side of the mountain, out of sight of Moombasa's artillery.
"The idiot's going to bury the hill," Remo said.
"Good. Then he'll never know the gold was there."
"And maybe our guys can sneak in some time and take it out and nobody'll be the wiser."
Chiun was silent and Remo asked him, "Something on your mind, Little Father?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"The House of Sinanju owes an apology."
"To whom?" asked Remo.
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"To Puk. No more can he be called Puk the Liar. He told the truth."
"Good old Puk," said Remo.
"You know what must have happened?" Terri said. She was flying the copter low now, barely skimming tree tops, on her way toward the ocean. "When the Spanish came, the Hamidians brought their gold out here and built that hill around it. Then they told the Spanish that the gold had been sent all over the world. And nobody ever knew. The Spanish massacred the Hamidians and the secret died with them. It's been sitting here all that time."
"Until now," Remo said. "When that nutcake is done, it won't even be a smear."
"Maybe it's best," Terri said. "Let the Hamidian legend die with them."
"I guess so," Remo said.
"It's a lot of gold," Chiun said.
Eighteen
Sometimes things just seemed to work right, even when they started out wrong.
That thought occurred to Barry Schweid, after he received the telephone call from the mysterious producer, Mr. Smith, to meet him right away at the offices of Universal Bindle Marmelstein Mammoth Global Magnificent Productions Inc.
But when Barry went outside, all four tires were flat on his 1971 Volkswagen.
But the bad luck turned good right away because, just by chance, there was a cab parked in front of his house.
The cabbie was a dark-haired young man who didn't talk much. From the back seat, Schweid noticed that the driver had very thick wrists.