"Obviously a woman's elbow," Chiun said.
"Obviously," said Remo.
"With a man following behind her. But the woman was carrying the device," Chiun said.
"Obviously," Remo said.
"Hey, look," Lance Larew hissed to his cameramen. "I think there's somebody up ahead. Who are those guys?"
"Maybe they're scientists," the cameraman said. "Maybe. Let's roll the cameras and stay with them in case they blow up."
They were talking in whispers but fifty yards away, Chiun turned to Remo and said, "Who are these noisy fools?"
"I don't know. First the bomb, then I'll take care of them." He looked down at the tracks. "I think you're onto something."
"He's onto something," one of the camera crew shouted. He lumbered forward with his equipment. Lance Larew followed him.
"Perhaps I should dispatch these meddlers into the void," Chiun said, "so we may continue our search in peace."
"Oh, I don't know," Remo said. "Kill a newsman and you never hear the end of it."
"I don't like performing in front of these louts, like a circus elephant."
"Let me find the bomb first," Remo said. He followed the line of the tracks to a flowering bush. He felt the ground with his fingers. The device was there, covered scantily by a coating of earth.
"Hurry. They are encroaching," Chiun whispered as the newsmen came closer. Finally, one of the cameramen pushed forward quickly and flicked his camera in Chiun's direction. Chiun pressed his nose against the lens.
"Hey, cut it out, Methuselah," the cameraman said. "You're getting nose grease all over my lens."
"Nose grease? The Master of Sinanju does not produce nose grease. You have insulted me to the core of my being."
"Now you've done it," Remo called out. "I'm not responsible anymore."
"What is it you're doing there?" Lance Larew shouted. "What are you doing under that bush?" Remo's hands worked fast, first disconnecting the timer, and then dismembering the nuclear device by pounding the metal pieces into powder. He buried the little pile of black and silver granules beneath the mulberry bush.
"I said what are you doing there?" Larew said. He was standing near Remo now.
"Looking for the dreaded Australian night-stalker," Remo said. "This is the only night it blooms. But we missed it. We'll have to wait until next year."
"What about the bomb?" Larew demanded.
"There was no bomb," Remo said. "We've been getting calls like that for weeks. Just cranks."
"You mean I came all this way on a crank call?" Larew said.
"Seems like it," Remo said.
Larew stamped his foot in anger, then called to the two cameramen behind him. "All right, men. We'll do a feature story anyway. Scientists prowl the grounds at midnight looking for a rare flower."
"You don't want to do that," Remo said.
"Don't tell me what I want to do," L,arew said. "First Amendment rights. Freedom of the press. Free speech." He turned to the cameramen. "Shoot some footage on these guys."
The two cameramen aimed at Remo and Chiun, and began rolling the tapes inside the devices. Chiun's narrow hazel eyes peered into one of the cameras.
"How about a little smile?" the cameraman said. "Like this?" Chiun asked, his face contorted in a strained smile.
"That's good, old man. More teeth."
Chiun grabbed the camera and, still smiling, crushed it into a flat slab. Bowing, he handed it back to the cameraman. "Enough teeth?" he asked.
Remo grabbed the other camera from the other cameraman and shredded it into noodle-shaped pieces.
"First Amendment!" screamed Larew.
Remo put some of camera pieces into Larew's mouth. "First Amendment that," he said.
The news crew fled toward the rip in the chain-link fence.
"Thank you, Chiun, for your help," Remo said.
"Will you ... ?"
"I still won't wear a kimono," Remo said.
Gloria Muswasser's ear was getting tired. She cradled the telephone between her head and her shoulder while on a piece of blue paper she crossed out another set of television call letters.
She dialed another number.
"WZRO newsroom," a male voice said.
"I am the spokesman for the Species Liberation Alliance," Gloria said in her most menacing terrorist voice.
"So?"
"I am calling to claim credit for the near-holocaust at the IHAEO labs tonight."
"What holocaust? What near-holocaust? The biggest news tonight is that the President's sleeping soundly with no bad dreams."
"It was nearly a holocaust," Gloria insisted.
"Nearly doesn't count."
"What are you talking about? We almost blew the Eastern Seaboard back to the Stone Age."
"Almost doesn't count either," the bored voice on the telephone said.