"That is not normally considered enough experience."
"Oh, Remo gave me some pointers before he got bored and said he would teach me no more."
"Oh, and what did he teach you?"
"That there are two different kinds of drivers in the world. Those who can drive correctly, and those who are best avoided."
"I could have told you that," Anna said.
"But could you have told me how to differentiate between the specimens?"
Anna clutched her seat belt. "No. How?"
"Fuzzy dice," said Chiun resolutely.
"Fuzzy-"
"Avoid any driver who hangs fuzzy dice inside his vehicle. It is a certain sign of a shrunken brain. Thus spoke Remo Williams, the easily bored."
Anna looked back at the pursuing driver. A pair of big pink furry dice bounced beside his head.
"In that case, I think we should be especially careful with this one in back of us," she said worriedly.
Still traveling south in the northbound lane, the Master of Sinanju bore down on the accelerator. Occasionally a car appeared ahead, and Chiun would weave into the proper lane until it passed. He avoided three cars in this fashion, the backwash whipping his facial hair each time.
"Ah," breathed Chiun when he saw the Mack truck approaching.
"Ah?" asked Anna.
"Watch," said Chiun.
The truck driver started honking his horn when he was still a quarter-mile away. The honking grew louder. In the rearview mirror, the pursuing driver was hunched behind the wheel, his eyes glaring hate.
The Master of Sinanju waited until the last possible second, the instant that he saw the truck driver begin to turn into the other lane to avoid hitting Chiun's car head-on.
Chiun slid into the lane first. The Mack truck wavered, then stayed its course.
The car that had been following them did not have enough room to slide into Chiun's lane because the Master of Sinanju had cut in front of a long line of cars. The pursuing driver had a choice the Mack truck or the soft shoulder of the road. He selected the shoulder. And barely made it. His car hit dirt at such a high rate of speed that it rolled onto one side in a cloud of enveloping dust.
"That will teach him to drive more carefully," said the Master of Sinanju smugly.
Anna Chutesov sank into the passenger seat. She was beyond fear, beyond pain, and beyond caring. She only hoped that when the end came, she would not suffer. The Master of Sinanju would have continued driving at over one hundred miles an hour all the way to New York City, but up ahead the traffic thickened in both lanes.
"I do not think I can stop in time," said Chiun, seeing the traffic as he came around a hairpin curve.
"What?" said Anna dazedly.
"These fools in front of me. They will not move out of the way," Chiun told her.
"What fools?" asked Anna, looking up suddenly. Then she saw it. Traffic was tangled up at the next exit. It was backed up all the way from the bottom of the ramp, like a swarm of feeding locusts.
Anna Chutesov suddenly cared. She cared about living. She cared about her mission. And most of all, she cared about not becoming the middle element in a chain-reaction highway crash.
She dived for the floorboard, grabbed at the brake with her slim strong hands, and pressed hard. "Wheee!" cried the Master of Sinanju as the car began to slow. It came to a stop directly behind a convertible. A sheet of onionskin typing paper could have fit between its rear bumper and the front bumper of Chiun's car-but it would have to be worked down carefully so the paper would not tear.
Anna Chutesov scrambled back into her seat.
The Master of Sinanju looked at her approvingly. "That was very good," he said. "Remo did exactly that same thing before he inexplicably lost interest in teaching me."
"I think I should take the wheel for a time," Anna Chutesov said abruptly.
The Master of Sinanju clutched the steering wheel possessively. "Remo said those words too. Exactly those. And once I surrendered the wheel to him, he refused to let me have another turn."
"Why do you want to learn to drive?" Anna asked.
"I told you. So I can become like an American."
"You no more want to become an American than I do."
Chiun's face darkened. "Are you suggesting that the Master of Sinanju is speaking an untruth?"
"I suggest no such thing. I speak it plainly."
"You are direct. Normally, that is a rude trait, but I notice that Americans are also direct, so I will consider it as possibly a good thing, although it pains me. Very well, I will speak to you the truth. I wish to learn all things American so that Remo will agree to stay in this country with me."
"When a child grows up, it is better to let him go rather than to cling to him," Anna Chutesov said gently. "It is an old Russian saying."
"Suitable for old Russians, I am sure," Chiun said bitingly. "But do not waste your Russian wisdom on me. I am the Master of Sinanju."
"And it will be a long time before you are a Master of the Automobile."
"I am learning," sniffed Chiun. "Already you have taught me many important driving tricks, as was our agreement. "
"Our agreement was that I would teach you a little driving and you would tell me where I can find Remo."
"Remo is away on important matters that concern only him."
"I only agreed to teach you to drive if we stayed on this road," Anna went on firmly. "It was in this area, according to Smith, that a possibly drunken man saw what might be my country's spacecraft come down."
"And we have seen no Russian ship," said Chiun.
"Granted. But I wonder if this traffic congestion has anything to do with my search?"
"Why would it?" asked Chiun.
"I don't know," Anna Chutesov said slowly, "but perhaps I can find out."