"Is this what I pay you to teach him?" he said. He pronounced "him" as if it were an obscenity.
"He is not much of a pupil," Chiun said. "But he is improving. For instance, he always knew you were not mad. Just as I did," he added hastily. "We are happy you have returned so that we can get on with our business."
"Oh?" Remo said. "We always knew he wasn't mad? Is that right? Is that right? Show him the parchment, Chiun. Show him the history you wrote."
Chiun shot an evil look at Remo. "The good doctor would not be interested. Besides it was only a first draft; it requires revisions yet."
"As soon as it's done, Smitty," said Remo. "As soon as it's done, I'll Xerox it and send you a copy."
"I would prefer it," said Smith, "if you would just get rid of this garbage." He motioned to Corbish's body. "Take it with you when you go. And go immediately. I thought you were under firm orders never to come here."
"Well, actually…"
"Never mind actually. Just leave," Smith said.
Remo came behind the desk and hoisted Corbish onto his shoulder. He fell in behind Chiun, heading for the door.
In the doorway, he stopped and turned back to Smith.
"Go," Smith said.
"I can't, said Remo.
"Why not?"
"The guards won't let me pass. I forgot my plastic name tag."