"Whatever you tell your conscience is your business, Greekling," Chiun sniffed.
"I just had to get used to the idea," he insisted. "And why do you call me Greek? I'm Italian."
"Today you might possibly be Italian. Before, you were a Greek."
"Before what?"
"He means in another life," Sheryl said. "Don't ask me why, but he thinks you were Alexander the Great in a previous life."
Bronzini looked his skepticism. "I've had worse things said about me," he said dryly. "Most people think I crawl out of the La Brea Tar Pits once a year to make a movie. "
"Do you have a cold?" Sheryl suddenly asked, "Your voice sounds real nasaly."
"How can you tell?" Chiun sniffed.
"I resent that!" Bronzini said. "Okay, never mind. Let's just get this over with."
Chiun turned to Bill Roam, who was standing with his arms folded. "The woman stays with you," he told the big Indian. "If we do not return, I ask you a favor."
"Sure. What?"
"When this is over, if I have not returned, go into the desert and recover the body of my son. See that he receives a proper burial."
"Done."
"Then you will avenge us both."
"If I can."
"You can. I have seen the greatness in you."
And without another word, the Master of Sinanju pushed Bartholomew Bronzini to the waiting tank. "You will drive," he said.
"What happens if they just kill us?" Bronzini wondered.
"Then we will die," said Chiun. "But we will cost them dearly."
"I'm with you on that," Bronzini agreed as he eased into the driver's cockpit. Chiun climbed onto the turret like a nimble monkey. He ignored the open hatch and assumed a lotus position beside it.
Bronzini looked back and remarked, "You're gonna fall off."
"See to your driving, Greekling," Chiun said sternly. "I will attend to my balance."
Bronzini started the tank. The engine made wounded mechanical sounds, but eventually the machine turned on one track toward the reservation gate.
"What do you think they'll do to me?" he wondered aloud.
"I do not know," Chiun replied. "But the one named Nishitsu desires to see you very much."
"Maybe he's got some kind of Japanese Oscar for me," Bronzini grunted. "I hear I'm a sure bet for best supporting idiot in a movie gone amok."
"If so, be certain to shake his hand," Chiun said.
"I meant it as a joke," Bronzini said. He sneezed before Chiun could reply.
"You do have a cold," Chiun said.
"I have a cold," Bronzini said sourly.
"Yes," Chiun said, a faraway light in his eyes. "When you meet this man, be certain to shake his hand. Do not forget. For it is not too late for you to atone for what you, in your ignorance, have brought to pass."
Bartholomew Bronzini thought he was prepared for the sight of Occupied Yuma. He was wrong.
The tanks blocked the road at the city limits. They parted as he approached. The Japanese kept a respectful distance. Their eyes sought Chiun. The Master of Sinanju kept his hazel eyes on the road, disdaining to meet their challenging glances.
As they entered the city, Bronzini saw the guards at every food store and gun shop. Here and there, bodies lay in brown-black patches of dried blood. A man hung from a lamppost. Another was on his stomach, hands bound behind his back, his head tilted up grotesquely, both eyes impaled on the needles of a cactus.
They were given safe passage to city hall, where a Japanese flag flapped in the wind. The sight turned Bronzini's stomach.
As he dismounted, Chiun floated to his side.
"Well, this is it," Bronzini said. "The denouement. Or is it the climax? I get them mixed up."
"Wipe your nose," Chiun said as they walked to the front door. Two Japanese guards flanked the entrance, standing at attention. "It is dripping," Chiun added.
"Oh," Bronzini said, pulling at his Roman nose with a thumb and forefinger.
"Do not forget what I told you. The Japanese will deal with you less harshly if you show respect."
"I'll try not to sneeze all over their uniforms."
Nemuro Nishitsu received the news with pleasure. "Bronzini san is here," Jiro Isuzu reported stiffly. "The Korean has brought him."
Nemuro Nishitsu reached for his cane. He pushed himself from his chair and with difficulty stepped out from behind the desk. He had gone without sleep for more than twenty-four hours. It felt like a week.
The Master of Sinanju floated into the office first.
"I have brought the one you seek," he said loudly. "And I demand that you fulfill your part of our agreement."
"Yes, yes, of course," Nishitsu said, looking past Chiun. Bronzini stepped into the room then. His hangdog face was devoid of expression. He ignored Isuzu.
"So you're Nishitsu," he said quietly.
"I am he," Nishitsu said. He bowed slightly.
"I got one question for you. Why me?"