"No," Remo said. "And if you'd get up off the floor you'd see that it's landing, not taking off." He shook his head after another moment's consideration. "I can think of only one reason why they'd be taking a hands-off approach like that."
"What?" Soe asked.
Remo glanced at the driver. "Do you really want to know?" he said.
Soe judged Remo's wry tone. The security officer glanced at the cluster of planes soaring in toward the airport, still far across the dreary North Korean capital. He suddenly realized why Kim Jong Il had gone to the airport.
Remo could tell by the look on his face that Soe had figured out who was on board the plane. "You better hope for your sake that last shipment of gold made it back safely."
He was so intent on watching the landing plane that he didn't comment on the look of instant, horrible fear that blossomed on the face of Rim Kun Soe.
THEIR HESITATION HAD saved all of their lives.
The soldiers were about to fire at Man Hyung Sun, as per the order of their Glorious Leader for Life, when another figure appeared from the open door of the jet.
Chiun's face was severe. The trails of his golden kimono flapped wildly in the bitter wind.
"Hold!" the Master of Sinanju commanded.
The men were taken aback by the harshness of the command. Their weapons were raised to Sun, but they were looking beyond the cult leader at the wizened form of the Master of Sinanju. Kim Jong Il saw Chiun, as well.
"Hold your fire! For God's sake, hold your fire!" the premier screeched.
The North Korean leader took off his great furry hat and began jumping between his troops, swatting down gun barrels that were still hesitating in the air.
The troops soon got the point. Those who had not lowered their guns at once soon put theirs down, as well. Greatly relieved, Kim slapped his hat back on his head, slightly askew. He instantly thought better of the move, ripping the hat off once more. He held it politely in both hands as he went to greet the Master of Sinanju.
"Welcome home, O glorious and awesome Master of Sinanju-he of lightning hands and eagle eye. Whatever your son has told you, don't believe it," he blurted out, quickly adding, "unless it's good. Hah-hah." He forced a chuckle to take the edge off things.
"Greetings, first son of Kim Il Sung," Chiun replied. He bowed respectfully.
Kim returned the bow nervously, dropping his hat as he did so. A hundred hands swarmed into view to try to pick it up. The premier kicked or swatted them all away.
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Man Hyung Sun said. He extended a hand to the premier.
"Forgive me, O Awesomeness," Kim said, ignoring the hand. He grabbed up his own hat. "But might I inquire. as to why you are in the company of this traitor?"
"Traitor?" Chiun asked bewildered. "This man is no traitor. He is the savior of all Koreans."
"Listen to this wise one, my premier," Sun said, his tone sly.
"No way," the Leader for Life insisted. "Your paper said I had the brain of a duck and the wit of a Kennedy. If that ain't treachery, then I'm Fatty Arbuckle."
"My quarrel was with your father," Sun said smoothly. "If I have transferred any of my feelings for him to you, then I deeply apologize. But he is dead. We are not. Let us inter our past differences with his bones."
"Easy for you to say, Loonie," the premier challenged.
There was a flicker of anger in Sun's eyes. Chiun interceded before the war of words could escalate.
"What is past, let us leave to the past," the Master of Sinanju intoned. "It is for the future that I have returned to the land of my birth in the company of this holy man."
"My ass is holier," Kim Jong Il said. "And it smells better. What the hell kind of stink-o-rama cologne are you wearing?" He flapped his hat in front of his face.
Chiun pulled the hat away and swatted the premier over the head with it. Thus cowed, the premier grew silent.
"Heed you this!" the Master of Sinanju shouted to the gathered North Korean soldiers and officials. "Today is the dawning of a new era for all the world!" He indicated Sun. "This man is a seer of divine inspiration! He has seen the future. The future of Taehan-min' guk, as well as that of Choson Minchu-Chui Inmin Konghwa-guk! These are but titles! Worthless names that have separated this blessed land for far too many years! This day, we will be one! Together as a united Korea will we face the future! The future of pyon ha-da!"
The many hooded eyes of those gathered grew wide at the last words. Even the premier took a shocked step back. He quickly gathered his senses, glancing from Sun to Chiun.
"It is true?" he asked.
Chiun nodded. He crossed his arms impassively over his bony chest.
"We must prepare for destiny," Man Hyung Sun said somberly. His flat face was confident.
The premier seemed unsure what to do for a long moment. The wind continued to blow crazily around him, throwing the trail of his greatcoat out behind him like a desperate drab windsock. At long last, he spoke, his words dull.
"Kim Jong Il is not so foolish to resist the pull of future history," the premier said somberly. It was as if he were delivering the eulogy at a dear loved one's funeral.
In a move that would have shocked the world political community, the Leader for Life of North Korea sank slowly to his knees on the frozen tarmac before the traitorous Reverend Man Hyung Sun.
And, just as shocking, behind their leader, hundreds of Korean troops and civilian government agents did the same.
"WHAT IN THE BLAZING heckfurters is this?" Remo Williams asked as his jeep bounced onto the Pyongyang Airport runway.
It was as if they had stumbled into an outdoor Muslim prayer service. Except instead of facing Mecca, the Koreans on the tarmac were facing two very familiar figures.
"If they are praying, perhaps we should come back later," ventured the South Korean president, near Remo's left shoulder. He was peeking over the back seat.
Remo ignored him. "Bring us up in front of that mob," he instructed.
Soe steered the jeep in a straight line toward the aircraft that stood directly before the hundreds of kneeling men. They stopped before the throng.
Remo climbed down next to Chiun.
"What are you doing here?" Remo demanded.
"This is a free country, is it not?" the Master of Sinanju sniffed
"No, actually, it's not," Remo snarled. He looked down at Kim Jong Il. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Paying respect to the herald of pyon ha-da," the premier explained.
"Pyon ha-da?" The shocked voice came from Remo's jeep. All at once, the president of South Korea climbed out onto the runway. He was joined quickly by Rim Kun Soe. "It is true?"
"The time has come," Kim Jong Il announced from his prostrate position before Sun.