"And Rome was Rome," said Chiun gravely. "It, too, fell when it became old. Where is the Greece of days gone by? The Egyptians no longer rule their part of the world. Do not think because your nation has existed without knowing the tread of an invading army, that it could never happen. It has. Now we must deal with what has taken place, not deny it."
Bill Roam spoke up for the first time since they had left Luke.
"You're acting like Yuma has fallen to the Nazis," he said. "It's only a movie company. Sure, they've gone crazy, but they can't hold an American city indefinitely. And they sure can't widen their area of operations. They barely have the manpower to hold this city. When the shock wears off, the people will grab their guns and beat them off. You watch. You'll see."
No one responded to that. They came to the roadblock. The two T-62 tanks were still in place. But now they were quiet. As the Ninja passed them, the sound of its engine caused the trapped Japanese crews to begin pounding and shouting for attention.
"What happened to them?" Bill Roam wanted to know, looking back in bewilderment.
"He did," Sheryl said, jerking a thumb at Chiun.
"You must know some right powerful medicine, chief," Roam said.
"Yes," Chiun said. "Very powerful."
"Well, I know a few tricks myself," Roam said, his eyes on the desert. "Maybe I'll get to use them before this is done. I helped three planeloads of airmen step into eternity out there. Only blood will redeem that."
Chiun's eyes were on the desert too. He said nothing. They followed Route 8 through the city. Abandoned cars burned, releasing smudgy smoke that hung in the air like the visible stench of defeat. They stopped at a roadside pay phone at Chiun's insistence, but he returned complaining that it was broken.
Every pay phone they encountered was out of order. "Face it," Roam told him. "They've cut us off from the outside world."
"Oh, my goodness," Sheryl said in a small shocked voice. "Look!"
Off the road, there was a school. A desert-camouflage armored personnel carrier stood parked in front like some absurd ice-cream truck. Uniformed soldiers stood guard over the grounds, where rows of children squatted, their hands folded behind their heads. Other soldiers dragged adult bodies back into the building.
"Jesus!" Bill Roam muttered. "This can't be happening. "
"Stop the car," said Chiun.
"Are you crazy?" Sheryl cried. "They look like they'd shoot us as soon as look at us."
"I cannot allow those children to be threatened." Sheryl grabbed Chiun's sleeve.
"Look," she pleaded. "Think this through. There are more of them than there are of us."
Chiun looked into Bill Roam's weather-beaten face. "I'm up for it," Roam said quietly.
They both looked to Sheryl.
"All right," she said reluctantly. "But I don't think I'm going to be much help. My knees are shaking so hard I can barely keep my feet on the brake."
"Just keep the engine running, little lady," Bill Roam said as the jeep pulled over to the side of the road a ways beyond the schoolgrounds. "The chief here and I will do the rest."
"Why do you call me that?" Chiun asked.
"Because you look like a chief. Ready? Let's go." The two men left the car in silence. They worked their way toward the building. Chiun seemed to drift like so much silent smoke. Bill Roam walked low, so his tall lanky frame was not so obvious. Sheryl thought he moved like a stealthy Indian brave; then she remembered that Sunny Joe Roam was an Indian.
She watched anxiously through her rear window. The Master of Sinanju took a position behind a cactus that afforded a commanding view of the school, front and rear. It was as tall as a man and shaped like a barrel. He touched one of the long needles and found it quite sharp. With one fingernail he razored the needles off, collecting them in his hand like so much straw. Chiun peered around the side of the cactus and looked for Sunny Joe Roam. He frowned. There was no sign of him. Could he have been captured already? Even for a white, that would have been inordinately clumsy. Taking care not to be seen, Chiun moved to the other side of the cactus. He spotted Sunny Joe Roam sneaking up on a Japanese guard loitering near the back of the school, out of sight of the others. The Japanese was half-turned from Sunny Joe Roam. As Chiun watched, the soldier pulled a cigarette pack from his uniform blouse pocket and shook out a cigarette. He struck a match. The wind blew it out.
Moving on cat feet, Sunny Joe quickened his approach. Chiun, knowing the reason why, felt a tingle of admiration for the Indian. He realized that the guard would have to turn out of the wind to light his cigarette. And Sunny Joe was walking into the wind.
Chiun lifted a handful of needles, preparing to throw them.
He never had to. The Japanese turned; Sunny Joe shifted to one side and froze beside a lantana shrub. The guard was looking directly at the bush as he lit the stubborn cigarette. The bush shook slightly from a desert breeze. The Japanese seemed not to notice. Chiun's parchment face relaxed in mild surprise. He had never seen a white move so stealthily. Not since Remo. He lowered the needles and watched.
The guard reached for his fly, turned to the schoolhouse wall, and Sunny Joe came out from behind the bush like a ghost, one fist up.
Chiun turned away. Roam would not need his help.
He directed his attention to the guards surrounding the hostage children. Chiun shook his arms free of his sleeves and prepared to hurl the twin handfuls into the air. Above his head, he heard the drone of planes flying in unison. The wind was strong, but steady. He could compensate for it.
The Master of Sinanju brought his hands up in an underarm throw. The needles left his splayed fingers like splinters of pure light.
The first fusillade went the furthest. The needles arced high. Dropping their points as if programmed by a computer, they began to fall. The other needles reached the apex of their flight almost at the same time.
The Master of Sinanju jumped out from behind the sheltering cactus. If he was seen now, it would not matter. Arms pumping, he ran toward the children.
Then Sunny Joe came out from behind the schoolhouse. He carried an AK-47. Chiun hoped he had restraint enough not to use it.
The needles fell in two focused groups. They struck the soldiers wherever they stood, but none fell within the circle of guards to hit the children.
Seeing needles seemingly sprouting from their arms and shoulders, the guards had a perfectly sensible reaction. They gave the Japanese equivalent of "Ouch!" and looked up. They also raised their weapons defensively.
They were still looking up when the Master of Sinanju began to explode their internal organs within their bodies. Chiun's bony fists found abdomens and backs. He struck only once at each man, but his splindly arms struck like steam-driven pistons. No soldier made a sound after he fell. And all of them fell.
Instantly Chiun was in the midst of the children. "Make haste!" he scolded. "On your feet, little ones. You must flee. Return to your families. Go!"
The children reacted slowly. Not so the Japanese in the APC. They boiled out of the back like cockroaches from a lighted oven.
Bill Roam picked them off as they came with cool single shots from his AK-47. The first two out went down without firing a shot. Others ducked behind the machine and tried to return fire from under the eight-wheeled undercarriage.
Roam dropped to his stomach and lined up. He hit a tire, corrected his aim, and erased the face of a Japanese who was sighting down the barrel of his rifle. Roam's next shot took out the front tire. The APC listed suddenly; and the driver started the engine in an effort to escape. He didn't get far. There was still one sharpshooter under the chassis. The good rear tires ran over him, splintering his rib cage with a sickeningly loud sound. The Japanese must have been packing grenades, because his body exploded when the tires ran over it.
The APC jumped four feet into the air, then fell back, blowing the remaining tires.
Bill Roam peppered it with single shots, taking his time to aim, but giving the occupants of the APC no time to organize a response.
By that time, prodded by the Master of Sinanju, the students had all taken shelter inside the school building. Chiun shut the door after the last one.
He hurried to Bill Roam's position.
"Cease your firing," he told Roam. "The children are safe. I will deal with these vermin now."
"Mind if I join the festivities?" Roam said, standing up.
"Only if you do two things for me."