"I may be persuaded to reenter your service, however, Emperor Smith."
"I'm happy to hear that," said Smith. "Of course I'm prepared to sign a contract on the terms we discussed earlier. "
"I am afraid that cannot be," said Chiun.
"Why not?"
"Because you tore up that contract."
"Can't you prepare another."
"I could, but it would take several days, for I am old and my memory is slipping. It may be that I would have to reopen negotiations simply to refresh my feeble mind."
"Then what do we do? We can't wait that long. The Dutchman could strike at any time."
"It just so happens that, anticipating your desires, I took the liberty of preparing a new contract during my journey to America," said Chiun, brandishing a fresh scroll. He untied the blue ribbon and presented it to Smith.
Smith took the scroll. He blinked at it. "I can't see. Of course, my glasses. Where are they?"
Remembering that he had them, Remo pulled the glasses from his pocket and placed them over Smith's bleary eyes. "The Dutchman brought them to Sinanju as proof he'd killed you," Remo explained.
"This is worse," said Smith. "I can't see a thing."
"Oh," cried Chiun. "I do not know what to do. We could wait for you to obtain new spectacles, but I fear for the lives of your nominees."
"What are the terms?"
"Excellent. I am certain you would find them agreeable. Why don't you simply sign now and read later?"
Smith hesitated. "This is exceedingly irregular."
"These are irregular times," said Chiun.
"Very well," said Smith unhappily. "There's still a chance that CURE will be terminated after the election. It can't hurt to keep operations going another few months."
"Excellent," said Chiun, plucking a goose-quill pen from one sleeve and offering it to Smith. An ink stone came out of the other sleeve. Chiun lifted the tiny lid and Smith dipped into the well. He signed the bottom of the scroll.
"You will never regret this," promised Chiun, recovering the quill and the scroll.
"I trust not," said Smith, moving his glasses in front of his eyes at different focal lengths. He still could not see. "Your first task is to protect the presidential candidates."
"Immediately," declared Chiun.
"Count me out," said Remo. "I'm after the Dutchman, remember?"
"Who perhaps even now is on his way to murder one of them."
"Count me in," said Remo.
"One last thing before you go," said Smith. "I need to contact the President as soon as possible. Could you go to my office and bring my briefcase?"
"It's already here," Remo told him, reaching out into the corridor. He placed Smith's worn leather briefcase on his lap.
"Folcroft was the first place we went," said Remo. "Your secretary told us you were in the hospital. I figured it wouldn't hurt to bring the briefcase, just in case."
"Good thinking."
"Actually it was my idea, Emperor Smith," Chiun pointed out. "Remo merely carried your property."
"Yes," said Smith vaguely, unlocking the briefcase. Inside, a compact computer link gleamed under the weak fluorescent lights. Smith plucked out the handset of a cellular phone. "I must speak with the President. Alone. Could you remove that doctor on your way out?"
"At once," said Chiun, bowing. "Remo," he said, snapping his fingers.
Reluctantly Remo toted the doctor out to the corridor, where Chiun stood before an elevator. Remo shoved Dr. Kimble into a broom closet and joined Chiun.
"I'm worried about Smitty," he told Chiun.
"He will be fine."
"I mean his vision. He acted half-blind."
"I am sure he will recover. Sometimes when the kotdi is improperly manipulated, the vision is slow to return."
"The doctor didn't have that problem when I brought him around. "
"You are not old and feeble like me."
"I also wasn't carrying a contract I wanted signed, sight unseen," said Remo, stepping into the elevator.
"That too." Chiun beamed as the elevator doors closed on them.
***
When the red telephone rang, the President heard it all the way down the hall in the Oval Office.
He raced out of the office past Secret Service guards, who tried to follow him.
"Stay there. I'll be right back. Diarrhea," he yelled. The Secret Service guards stayed put.
In his bedroom, the President snatched up the red telephone.
"Yes?" he said.
"Smith here."
"I've been trying to reach you for two days. Where the heck have you been?"