"There are limos?"
"Yes, Mr. President."
The chief executive sounded more than a little annoyed. "I wonder why my people didn't tell me that," he complained.
"Perhaps they were preparing you for the possibility of invasion," Smith suggested. "However, it is never my intention to deliberately mislead a President. I will give you the facts, and allow you to make a judgment. For good or bad."
"Thanks for not sugarcoating it for me," the President said levelly. It was obvious he was irritated by Smith's contention that he might make a bad decision. "So what do we do about the situation?"
"Nothing."
The President was surprised. "Shouldn't we do something?" he asked. "It won't look good to the world if I just sit on my fanny during all this."
"It is not always necessary, Mr. President, to respond to every little thing that happens in the world. Sometimes, when left alone, things work out on their own."
"So we should take a wait-and-see attitude?"
"Yes," Smith agreed. "But I think none of us need worry about a long wait. Whatever is going on there, things appear to be progressing at a brisk pace."
"Armageddon is supposed to happen fast, isn't it?"
Smith did not respond to the pointless question.
"Our troops along the Thirty-eighth Parallel are on high alert for any eventuality," the CURE director said. "They had been prepared for many years for an assault from the North. The last few days, they have had to worry about the South. Now it appears as if they have to be concerned with both directions. If you are looking for something to do, I would recommend that you have your strategists prepare some sort of withdrawal plan for our men on the ground."
"Retreat?" the President asked.
"The social order of the South is on the verge of collapse. The North will most certainly sweep in to fill the power vacuum. If the Koreas unify under Pyongyang, it goes without saying that our troops will no longer be welcome."
The President sighed. "I'll get on the horn with the Pentagon," he said "With any luck, your people will be able to iron out this mess before it gets any worse." He broke the connection.
Smith dropped the cherry-red phone to its cradle. He stared for a long time at his computer screen.
The images of the cars were fuzzy. The resolution on the satellite over the Koreas was not particularly great. But it was clear enough.
There were a lot of them, snaking back along the road to the North's capital. But were there enough vehicles for an invasion force?
He had assured the President that it was not possible. That Kim Jong Il was not that crazy. But was he?
Smith realized all at once that he had been looking blankly down at the computer screen for almost ten minutes. He was frozen in place, hand still resting on the open desk drawer with its dedicated White House phone.
Things would work out. For better or worse.
He slammed the desk drawer shut. Spinning away from his computer screen, Smith stared out through the one-way picture window behind his desk at Long Island Sound.
Above the waters, the winter sky was sallow. The weathermen promised snow today. Smith would watch for the first flake to fall. He had nothing better to do.
Chapter 29
At a signal from Sun's limousine, the convoy containing the leaders of both Koreas paused on its way to the historic reconciliation. The many vehicles slowed to a stop two miles shy of the demilitarized zone.
The hundreds of North Koreans who had followed Sun from Pyongyang swarmed reverentially around the prophet of the Great Korean Age. Soldiers and politicians alike got to their knees on the bitterly cold road, hands raised above their heads in supplication. Sun waded through the mass of humanity like a conquering god.
"Is something wrong, O Seer?" Kim Jong Il asked from a spot near the second limousine. He, too, was kneeling on the ground, alongside the South Korean president.
"I fear so," Man Hyung Sun admitted. "Tell me," he said, turning to the South Korean leader, "how will our journey to the border be interpreted by your people?"
"Our people," the president corrected.
"Yes," Sun said, smiling tightly. "This was not an attempt to trick you. There is still a government in place in Seoul. They will have heard of our caravan."
"That is likely," the president admitted with a frown. "They will not be pleased. However, there are other concerns in the South right now. Our streets are dangerous. Unrest and violence run rampant through our capital. I am certain that my kidnapping is also troubling. I suppose it is possible that we have not been noticed."
"They know," the Master of Sinanju said. He stood behind Sun, hands tucked inside the sleeves of his kimono.
Remo was the only other person besides Sun and the Master of Sinanju still standing. He remained several yards away from Chiun. As his teacher spoke, he turned away.
"The capitalist troops along the border will be prepared," Kim Jong Il interjected. "Even if the South does not know, they certainly will."
Sun nodded. "Precisely," he said. "It is far too dangerous for us all to proceed, though I know you all wish to share in this glorious moment. Our number must be trimmed to only the most essential, lest we risk destroying all we hope to achieve."
"Can't you see the future?" Remo mocked.
Sun turned to him. "I see," he said, blandly. "And I interpret. It is not my place to tell all."
"Convenient out," Remo snorted. Crossing his arms, he stared off at a frozen rice paddy. As he looked at the barren expanse, he could feel Chiun's eyes boring angry holes into the back of his head.
"The leaders of this divided land should come with me," Sun announced to the crowd. "As should the Master of Sinanju. The rest must stay here."
There was a disappointed groan from those gathered.
Sun raised his hands. "Any slight sadness you feel now will turn to unbridled joy with the coming of pyon ha-da."
With that, the cult leader pushed back through the kneeling throng to the open door of his limousine.
The president of South Korea and the premier of the North followed behind him. Padding silently in the wake of all three men came the Master of Sinanju.
Remo stuffed his hands in his pockets. Sullenly, he left the crowd and wandered over to the waiting car.
When Remo reached the limo and began to climb in, an arm suddenly barred his way.
"You cannot come," Man Hyung Sun announced from the back seat. His eyes were flat.
"Move it or I break it off," Remo warned, indicating the cult leader's arm with a nod.
"Remo!" snapped Chiun. He had been getting in the other side of the black limousine. His head bobbed above the roof now as he stared furiously at his pupil.