"Would it be disrespectful to say that that was one hell of a rush?" he enthused as he stood.
He drew the damp towel from around his neck, tossing it on the floor near a humidifier. Sweating, Man Hyung Sun left the small fetid room.
Chapter 21
The drive from New York to Massachusetts did not help to diminish Remo's sour mood.
When he stepped through the front door of the condominium he shared with the Master of Sinanju, he heard the telephone ringing at the rear of the house. Scowling, Remo walked back to the kitchen.
"What do you want?" Remo asked, picking up the receiver.
"Remo? Smith. Thank goodness I was finally able to reach you."
"Been trying long?" Remo asked with sarcastic sweetness.
"Yes," Smith replied, unaware of the sarcasm. "When I could not reach you at home, I traced your call back to Sun's mansion, but you and Chiun had already left. I trust you already know about the situation in Korea."
"You're too trusting," Remo said. "And Chiun didn't leave. He's still with the Reverend Sun."
"Oh? He did not come to the phone."
"Probably busy passing around the collection plate," Remo said. "So what's with Korea?"
Smith explained the situation both north and south of the Thirty-eighth Parallel. As he regurgitated the raw data, he quickly told Remo of the headless Korean bodies discovered that day and their connection to North Korea, which Smith had established through that nation's New York UN mission.
"I need for you and Chiun to fly to South Korea immediately. If there is some kind of sinister force behind this, I want you on the ground ready for quick action. I've arranged military transport for the two of you."
"Better cancel one of those tickets," Remo said.
"Why?"
"Chiun won't be coming."
"I need him," Smith stressed. "It may become necessary to stabilize the situation in North Korea, as well. Chiun has a knack for dealing with government leaders. Particularly in his homeland."
"And I don't?" Remo asked.
Smith's hesitation spoke volumes. "Er, if you are saying that Chiun is at the Sun mansion, perhaps I could try to reach him there again," he said vaguely.
"He's not going anywhere," Remo insisted, his tone betraying his offense. "He's sitting in his room waiting for the human race to jaundice."
"I do not understand."
"Join the club."
"This is a vital situation," Smith urged.
"Chiun's found something that's more vital. Take my word on this one, Smutty-you aren't moving him an inch."
Smith considered for a long moment. "You may go alone," he said finally, clearly unhappy with the situation. "But remember that South Korea is still an ally. Try your best to be diplomatic."
"Blah, blah, blah," Remo said.
"The North is an even trickier situation," Smith pressed on. "They look for any opportunity to drive a wedge between the United States and the South. Try not to give them any ammunition."
"Gee, you want me to make sure I wear clean underwear in case I get in an accident, Mom?" Remo asked.
South continued, undaunted. "It is not yet known if the nine informants killed in the North are a tit-for-tat for the nine you removed here. It is important that we do not act unilaterally until we are certain of our facts."
"Yammer, yammer, yammer," Remo sighed. "Stop worrying, Smitty. Just get me on the right plane, and everything will work out for the best. Trust me. I can be very diplomatic."
Another deafeningly loud pause.
"Are you absolutely certain Chiun is not available?" Smith asked, his voice strained.
THE MASTER OF SINANJU heard the heavy footfalls in the hallway outside his room. They certainly did not belong to Remo. His pupil's confident glide had moved in the opposite direction hours before. He was too stubborn to return.
No, these were footsteps Chiun had come to recognize clearly in his short stay at the East Hampton estate.
"Enter, Most Holy One!" Chiun called even before his visitor had a chance to knock.
Man Hyung Sun stuck his head around the doorway.
Chiun smelled the after-shave lotion even before he had opened the door. Remo was right about that, at least. The stink about the Reverend Sun was strong. Almost overpowering.
"Am I disturbing you?" Sun asked.
"A visit from a holy man can never be a disturbance," the Master of Sinanju replied from his lotus position on the glass-enclosed balcony.
He had turned his back to the lawn.. The setting sun had fallen from the bleak winter sky. It was being swallowed up by the distant black trees.
As Sun came across the room, Chiun did something that he rarely did. Even for Smith, whom he called Emperor and for whom he rarely displayed anything short of obsequiousness.
Chiun rose from the floor.
When Sun stepped onto the balcony, the two men exchanged polite bows. Not deferential. But certainly respectful.
As Sun found a seat on one of the Western chairs on the balcony, Chiun sank back to the floor.
"Your son is no longer here," Sun said.
Chiun shook his head sadly. The puffs of hair over his ears shook with deep sorrow. "Lamentably, no," he said. "He does not believe in pyon ha-da. The boy is young still, with skin of improper hue. My fear was always that by flittering around in a shell of ivory, he would not know the true beauty of the world."
Sun nodded. "It must be awful for you to squander your wisdom on a white," he agreed.
Chiun bristled slightly. "Remo is a fine pupil," he explained. "His mongrel lineage is not his fault. Indeed, I have confirmed that which I always suspected. There is some Korean blood within him. Dissipated over the years, of course. But in his heart, he has always been Korean."