"My actions, therefore, were justified." With the smug expression of a television commentator, Chiun sank to a lotus position in the center of the threadbare
rug.
"Justified, my ass," Remo snapped. He whirled to Smith. "He froze my vocal cords over South Dakota."
' 'It was the most peaceful airplane ride I have taken in years," Chiun chimed in.
"Master of Sinanju, am I to understand you paralyzed Remo and carried him through a public air terminal?" Smith asked.
"Right onto the damn plane," Remo interjected.
Smith thought of all the people who had seen the tiny Asian transporting the much larger man through
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the airport parking lot, into the airport terminal, onto the plane, off the plane at LaGuardia, through the terminal and out to a waiting cab. His eyes darted longingly to the drawer where his antacids and aspirins were stored.
"The Clear-Seer woman is still, er, with us?"
"Could be," Remo said sarcastically. "Unless Chiun has her stashed in the taxi's glove compartment." He slumped into Smith's office sofa.
"This is important, Remo," Smith said. "I would like a straight answer."
Remo sighed. "Yeah, she's still alive. Chiun was too busy hauling me like a donkey from there to here to worry about her."
Smith forced his thoughts away from Remo and Chiun's trip to Folcroft and considered the problem at Ranch Ragnarok.
"Perhaps it is for the best at the moment," Smith said absently.
"Best?" Remo asked. "What the hell does that mean? Did you want her snuffed or didn't you?"
Smith winced at Remo's choice of words. "It may be that you were sent in before I learned all the facts," he said. "Was Moss Monroe at the ranch when you arrived?"
"Barely," Remo replied. "He almost ran us down on our way in."
"Did you notice any other celebrities on the grounds?"
"Yeah, Soupy Sales tried to get the jump on us, but Chiun creamed him," Remo said dryly. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
"I have just learned that in recent months Ranch
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Ragnarok has become popular with a great many famous people."
"Well, I didn't see any paparazzi there," Remo said. "Just a bunch of weekend warriors with guns. And that's another thing," he said suddenly. "Everyone knew we were coming."
Smith sat up even straighter in his chair. "Explain," he said.
"It was like they were expecting the freaking queen or something. They met me and Chiun in the woods and escorted us through the gates like we were royalty."
Smith considered the information for a moment. "Perhaps this is the way they treat all their guests," he said slowly.
"They meet them in the middle of the woods, Smitty?" Remo asked sarcastically. "Besides, they said they were looking for two guys. Me and Chiun. They even seemed to know where we were hiding in the bushes. They called out to us. I have to admit, they were pretty polite about the whole thing."
"Is it possible they saw the two of you with surveillance equipment?"
Remo shook his head. "There were cameras and motion detectors and a bunch of other stuff, but Chiun and I don't have a problem with gizmos. The only way these guys could have known we were there is if we made noise."
Smith's mouth had grown dry. "They were somehow alerted to your presence," he said, shaking his head. "Is it possible you made some noise you were unaware of?"
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"Hey, I didn't make a sound," Remo said defensively.
"And I do not make sounds," Chiun said from the floor.
Smith shook his head. "It is a coincidence," he said. "It cannot be anything else. A sentry must have seen you enter the woods. His companions merely guessed your position."
"Brace yourself for an even bigger coincidence, Smitty. Esther Clear-Seer knew who we were."
Smith placed his palms flat on his desk. What little saliva remaining in his usually parched mouth dried to sand. "What do you mean?" he croaked.
"She knew it was us specifically," Remo explained slowly, as if to a particularly thick child. "She called me Remo and called Chiun the Master of Sinanju." A concerned frown crossed his face. "She even knew my real last name, Smitty."
Smith felt his larynx constrict like a knotted drinking straw. He gulped but could pull nothing down his cracking throat. "CURE," he ventured, his voice a grating rasp. "Did she know about CURE?"
"Relax," Remo said. "She never mentioned the organization. She just went on about me and Chiun and Sinanju."
Smith felt some of the pressure drain from his chest. He loosened the knot of his green Dartmouth tie and forced himself to swallow calmly.
"That is somewhat of a relief," Smith said. "But until we learn more, we cannot disregard out of hand her knowledge of Sinanju." He turned to Chiun. "Master Chiun, is it possible that you have, er, advertised your services?"
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This had been a problem several times in the past. -Chiun would sometimes take out a full-page ad or buy airtime on a local television station in order to scare up business or to rail against "amateur assassins." It was possible that one such advertisement had eluded Smith.
"I know of your desire for secrecy, Emperor Smith," Chiun informed him. "Inexplicable as it might be, this wish will remain inviolate evermore."
Smith raised a puzzled eyebrow. "I appreciate that, Master Chiun," he said.
"You might want to check up on a guy named Kas-par and his connection to all this," Remo suggested. "One of this Clear-Seer woman's cronies mentioned him. It sounds like there's some sort of schism going on at the Truth Church. Kaspar's the head of one of the factions."
"I will look into it," Smith assured Remo. With practiced fingers Smith booted up his computer. "I must sift through this new data before I decide our next course of action," he said, drumming his fingers atop the surface of the gleaming black desk. The faint glow of the buried keyboard responded to his touch. "In the meantime I want you to remain on alert. It may become necessary to send you back to Ranch Ragnarok on short notice."
"On alert?" Remo complained. "Geez, Smitty, what do you think we are—a couple of battleships?"