"I would still your insolent tongue if I were you," Chiun sniffed.
"And that goes for you too, buster. The fare is fifty bucks. And I don't carry that kind of change on me. I get robbed all the time."
"What would you say the proper tip would be, Little Father?" Remo asked calmly.
"I just gave him the proper tip," Chiun replied blandly. "And he would do well to heed it."
"You have a point," Remo said pleasantly. He extracted a single hundred-dollar bill from his wallet, folded it in two, and then ripped the bill into equal halves. He handed the irate cabbie one half.
"What's this crap?" the cabbie roared.
"He must like that word, 'crap,' " Chiun pointed out. "It befits his loud mouth."
"It's half of a hundred-dollar bill," Remo told the driver. "Fifty bucks." He smiled. "You can keep the change."
"I can't spend this!"
"How do you know if you don't try?" Remo asked lightly as he stepped out of the cab.
The cabbie started to climb out after him. Chiun gave the door a light shove. The driver flew back in. His head hit the meter. Bellowing, he kicked at the door. Chiun held it shut with his little finger while Remo got behind the cab and gave it a gentle push.
The cab careened down the road. The driver grabbed for the wheel just as it went around a bend in the road. The engine started and its roar picked up speed.
"Let's go, Little Father," Remo told Chiun. "I've had a long day. Uh-oh," he added, looking at the darkened shape of Folcroft Sanitarium.
"Ah," Chiun said, following his gaze. "Emperor Smith still holds forth, although it is late."
With the taxi's engine fading behind them, Remo and Chiun slipped through the gate. Over by the docks, a squat shape sat like a sleeping insect. A military helicopter.
"I think that chopper is waiting for us," Remo pointed out. "So much for our evening of rest."
"Come on," Remo said in a tired voice. "No sense in delaying the inevitable. Let's go see what's doing."
They found Dr. Harold W. Smith at his desk. Smith's face was drawn. That fact in itself was not unusual. Stripped of his glasses, Smith could have sat for a portrait of a man in the final stages of starvation. But what Smith was doing alarmed Remo.
Smith was spraying foam antacid into his open mouth. A lot of it. He stopped from time to time to swallow, then continued squirting. The nozzle soon sputtered and fizzled noisily. Smith shook the canister, and getting nothing, started to suck the nozzle like a baby with a bottle.
He did not notice Remo and Chiun until Remo cleared his throat.
"Ahem," Smith said, dropping the can. It rolled off his desk and Smith reached for it. He missed. "No matter, it was empty," he said sheepishly. He adjusted his Dartmouth tie self-consciously.
"What's up, Smitty? We got rid of Rambo, by the way."
"Who? Oh," Smith said. His voice was strained. "Yes, the elephant. Good. Thank goodness you are back. We have a situation."
"I know."
"You do?"
"The helicopter. It was a major clue."
"Oh, yes. I ordered it to stand by. I've been frantic, Remo, waiting for your return."
"So we're back," Remo said casually. "What is it this time?"
"Hush, Remo," Chiun warned. "Do not rush your emperor. Obviously, a serious matter has developed. Speak to me, O Emperor. And do not concern yourself with my unruly pupil. He has had a trying day, but he has learned a valuable lesson which will enable him to serve you better in the future."
"Yes, good. But a matter of grave international concern broke while you were away."
Chiun's wispy chin lifted in interest. Matters of grave international concern interested him. The more of Smith's grave matters of international concern the Master of Sinanju dealt with, the more Chiun would ask for at the next contract negotiation.
"Yes," Smith said. "Washington has been attacked. It's happened twice in the last few hours."
"Attacked!" Remo said.
"Some new form of offensive ballistic weapon called the Kinetic Kill Vehicle. The President just informed me that it was fired by an electromagnetic launching system of some kind which defies early-warning detection. The first KKV landed within yards of the White House. The second impacted in Maryland. Fortunately neither hit anything crucial, nor did they detonate. There have been no casualties."
"Just what the world needs," Remo said. "Another new offensive weapon."
"All weapons are offensive," Chiun said firmly.
"So what do we do, Smitty?"
"Do not be foolish, Remo," Chiun interjected. "It is obvious what we do. We will go to the hurlers of these KKV's and eliminate them, thus saving the republic."
"Not exactly," Smith put in.
"No?" asked Chiun.
"What do you mean, no?" Remo added.
"The Pentagon is still trying to pinpoint the source of these attacks. We can be certain it is a foreign power, but who or what or why has yet to be determined. The President wants you in Washington immediately. He's very upset with us all. He thinks we should have somehow foreseen these attacks."
"He's got a short memory," Remo complained. "After we saved his life during the campaign."
"I knew he was an ingrate the moment I laid eyes upon him," Chiun spat. "I voted for the other one," he added smugly.
"You, Master Chiun?" Smith asked. "But you are not a U.S. citizen."
"They could not stop me. Besides, I only wished to cancel Remo's vote."
Remo sighed audibly. "So what are we supposed to do in Washington?" he asked Smith.
"I am uncertain. But I do think it would be good if you were at the President's side to reassure him. He hasn't yet gotten his cabinet assembled and seems completely at sea."
"He doesn't expect us to baby-sit him, does he?" Remo asked.