This was not a way for a Master of Sinanju to leave an emperor, carrying his own bags.
"I have one too many," said Remo. Chiun was too happy to be leaving the Mad Emperor Smith to quibble about such minor slights.
"Remo, do you understand why we have to get Vassily Rabinowitz, and do to him what the Russians did? Do you understand?"
"Understand?" sighed Remo. "I don't even want to think about it. C'mon, little father. I'll carry your steamer trunks out to the car."
"If you wish," said Chiun. Life was becoming good already. He didn't even have to work on Remo to make him do what he should have done out of the love in his heart, instead of forcing Chiun to practically beg for it. If one had to ask, one was demeaned. This might not be the absolute truth, but it sounded good, so Chiun decided to use it sometime when he had an opportunity.
"Chiun, tell him the job isn't over," said Smith.
"How can I reason with one who has served you so well? Only your words, O Emperor, are inviolate, and once spoken must be followed forever. You said he should eliminate this evil one Matesev. Is Matesev alive?"
"Well, no, but-"
"You said he should find out about this Rabinowitz. Did Remo not personally speak to Vassily Rabinowitz himself, even to the discussion of friendship?"
"Yes, but-"
"Then we leave with glad hearts knowing we followed to the absolute letter your magnificent commands."
"Name your price," said Smith.
"We are still waiting for the last tributes," said Chiun. "Not that we are crass servers of gold. But we understand as you understand that America's credit is its most priceless possession. And you most of all wish to keep your name and your credit at the highest levels of history. This when all the treasure of Sinanju is restored according to our agreements, then we would be more than happy to serve you again."
"But it will take years to search out that list you sent us. There are artifacts in there that haven't been around for centuries. "
"A great nation faces a great task," said Chiun, and in Korean to Remo: "Get the blue trunk first."
Remo answered in the language that had over the years become like his first language.
"Pretty neat, little father. I never could have gotten out that clean."
"It's only time. You'll learn it. When you know you're not working for some patriotic cause but realize you are in the family business, then you'll see. It is the easiest part of things. Emperors are all stupid because they can be made to believe we actually think they are somehow better than we just because of the accident of their births."
"What are you two talking about?" asked Smith in English.
"Good-bye," said Remo.
"I will match what any other country, tyrant, or emperor offers you, Chiun."
"Put back the trunk," said Chiun to Remo in Korean.
"I thought we were leaving," said Remo.
"Not when we have a bidding situation. It is the first rule of bargaining. Never walk away from a bidding situation; you will regret it forever."
"I don't know about you, little father," said Remo. "But I am through with Smith and CURE. Get your own trunk."
Smith saw the blue steamer trunk fall to the ground, and watched Chiun look aghast at such disrespect.
"So long," said Remo to both of them. "I'm going to play with the real Mickey Mouse instead of you two guys."
When Remo was gone, Smith asked Chiun what he knew about hypnotism.
"Everything," answered Chiun. "I used to own five hypnotists."
If Smith knew what Rabinowitz was doing at that moment, he would have run after Remo on his hands and knees and begged him to be the sad Russian's friend.
Chapter 8
Two men, each with different keys, were needed to launch an American nuclear missile. Each missile was pretargeted. In other words, those who fired it did not decide where it would land. They only followed orders. There was a strict procedure. First, the airmen had to make sure the missiles absolutely did not go off accidentally, and second, when they did, it would be only on properly validated orders from Strategic Air Command.
"And where does the Strategic Air Command get its orders?"
"From the President, Ma. Why are you asking me all these questions?"
Captain Wilfred Boggs of Strategic Air Command, Omaha, did not like coffee shops, and especially meeting his mother in one. And what really bothered him was that his mother had been asking around town about where the big missiles were, the ones that were aimed at Russia.
Captain Boggs, on security duty, had been assigned to interrogate the person. Boggs thought he was to interrogate a Russian immigrant, something so ludicrous as to make him laugh when he first heard it.
"You mean to tell me that there's a Russian going around looking for our biggest in Omaha?"
"Says he was told the missile bases was out here," answered the local police liaison officer. "But don't be too mean to him. Fella's real nice. Wants to see you, anyone from SAC. I told him, you wanna see someone from SAC, you go around this city asking for the biggest missile and you'll see someone real fast."
But the local police had made the biggest mistake of their lives. It was Wilfred's mother whom they had arrested. "You want to speak to me, Ma, phone me."
"I'm here, so tell me. How do you fire a missile at Russia?" And that was how his mother began the questions of who controlled what and where in the Strategic Air Command. Of course he got her out of jail immediately and went to a more suitable place to talk, a coffee shop she insisted on because she liked pastries. He was lucky to get her out of jail, but the policemen seemed unusually willing to break a few rules for a person every one of them found very special.
The question Ma wanted answered most of all was: "You couldn't fire one for your mother?"
"Ma, it takes two."
"Let me speak to the other one."
"Ma, I don't have a key. I'm in security now. I don't fire them."
"All of a sudden you can't fire a little missile? This is what you're telling your mother?"
"I never could fire a missile even when I had a key. It takes two and then we have to have the proper orders. Even if two of us decided we were going to fire one of these things, we'd have to have the proper command sequence wired in to our station."
"Hold on. Just a minute already. We're into a lot of things I didn't suspect," said his mother, and she took out a little notebook and a pencil and said:
"All right, give it to me from the very beginning."
"Will you put away that pad and pencil? I can't be seen telling you the SAC structure with you taking notes. And why are you taking notes?"