"So it isn't determined yet who you will work for?"
"No," said Remo.
"Let me speak to Chiun a moment, if I may."
"You won't understand him."
"Let me try," said Smith.
Remo went into the main bedroom, where Chiun was packing his kimonos.
"He wants to talk to you," said Remo.
"Aha. Now you will see him bid for our services. You should come and watch. Now you will see as I have always suspected that the tributes of gold brought by American submarines to the village of Sinanju might only have been a pittance."
"I'd rather not see," said Remo. He knew Chiun would never understand that Smith served a country he believed in and it was not his private gold but the property of the taxpayers of America. It was a country Remo still felt for. He would always be an American, and he didn't want to be there while his country was twisted by a thousand-year-old manipulation.
Remo was going because he was going, and that was it. Smith did not hear Chiun enter the porch, but then he never heard Chiun. He was gazing at the fountains when he noticed Chiun was there, totally composed as always, and looking not one day older than he had when first they met and he was told this was the man who would train the one enforcement arm for CURE.
"It's been a long time, Chiun. I want to say thank you, for America is honored to have had the magnificent services of the House of Sinanju."
"Sinanju is honored, most gracious one," said Chiun. Just when they were leaving, Mad Harold of America was learning how to speak to his assassin.
"I hear you are going to bid out your services," said Smith.
"We can never find one as gracious, O Emperor," said Chiun.
"May we bid also?"
"We will always consider the offer of the gracious Harold. "
"We have shipped gold regularly in amounts that are now twenty times the size of what they were the first year. How can we improve?"
"If it were just gold, O wise one, we would never leave your sublime service. But as you know, the treasure of the House of Sinanju is missing. Five thousand years of collected tribute is gone."
"Gone is gone, Master. We can help replenish it."
"Can you replace the obols of Alexander, the marks of Demetrius, the tolons of the Ming? Where are the bracelets from the great African tribes, or the statues from Athens? Where are the boxes of coins with the visage of Divine Augustus therein stamped?"
"I'll make you an offer. What we cannot find for you, we will replace. We will never stop until we replace it. There is no country as capable of this as we are."
"You will undertake to replace fifty centuries of tribute to the House of Sinanju?"
"Yes," said Smith. "We will do that."
Chiun thought a moment. This was awesome. America was going to match what all the previous civilizations in the world had contributed. Ordinarily an offer like this from a king or emperor would be suspect. But Chiun had seen America, had visited its cities and factories, villages and farms. He had seen its great electronics and land so rich that crops grew in a profusion never before seen in the world.
As he had always thought, there was plenty of money here. Now Sinanju was going to get a real piece of it. America just might be able to do what Mad Harold had promised. This could mean only one thing. Smith had to do the sane and reasonable thing for the employer of Sinanju. He was going to have Sinanju do what Sinanju did best. Replace the current president and put Smith on the throne. There could be no other reason for such an awesome sum.
"Agreed. It is our true honor."
"I'd like to speak to Remo, please," said Smith.
"Of course. A fine selection. Let Remo hear it from your lips himself."
Remo had packed his one small suitcase when Chiun entered the bedroom, chortling.
"We have one last mission for Wise Harold," said Chiun.
"Why is he no longer Mad Harold? And I thought we were tired of this place."
"Remo, if you do this one thing for Wise Harold, then I will forgive you forever for the loss of the treasure of Sinanju. It will make up for your chasing around the world on foolishness while our treasures remained unfound. Smith has agreed to replace the treasures. I must prepare the list. It is very long."
"He must be desperate. What does he want?"
"Not desperate. He realizes the time has come. I have agreed on your behalf to kill the President of the United States so that Wise Harold might bring order and decency to a ravaged land."
"I don't believe it," said Remo.
"We have promised. There is no greater sin than for an assassin to break his promise."
"I'll handle one more, little father. But I am sure it is not doing in the President."
"What else could it be?" asked Chiun.
"Something extraordinarily big that only we can do." Chiun had barely begun on the list when Remo returned, asking him if there was nothing in the history of Sinanju showing how a man could enter a country two times with more than 150 men and not be even noticed until he was gone.
General Matesev knew the moment he had lost his tail. That was the first part of his invasion of the United States, that he had pulled off twice before and had no reason to believe he could not do again, at least once more.
He moved through the giant and busy New York City for two hours, testing to see if by some miracle a tail could stay with him. When he was assured it did not, he went into an American bank and pushed a five dollar bill through the window.
"Ten quarters, please," he said.
The teller shuffled out the coins quickly. Without knowing it, she had just given General Matesev the tools he needed to bring about another successful invasion of America.
He took the ten quarters and went to a phone both. Within three hours, 150 select Russian commandos would be operating within America itself. The special force would have invaded again without a trace.
With the ten quarters he made ten phone calls. With each phone call, he said:
"Good afternoon. The sky seems a bit yellow today, don't you think?"
And with each phone call he got back a statement: "More blue, I think. But who knows. Life is so strange, yes?"
And to that answer he said ten times: "Riker's Island Stadium."
Joe Wilson's wife saw him pick up the phone. She had been sure he was having an affair until she listened in to one of the conversations. There was never another woman on the end of the line.