Comandante Oscar Odio only laughed.
He set the helicopter down in the path of the approaching Americans.
" Hola!" he called through the open bubble. "Que pasa ?"
Remo came up first.
"Look," he shouted over the rotor whir. "I've got no time to go into details. We need to get to a phone. Pronto!"
"Your Secret Service have-how you say-ceyular telefonos at the crash zone."
Remo shook his head vigorously. "No. I don't want theirs in on this."
"Ah," said Comandante Odio. "It is mucho top-secret, no?"
"Just give me a lift back to your base, okay?"
"At once," Comandante Odio said as the two climbed aboard.
The helicopter lifted up at an angle, the big rotor blade tipping in the direction they were traveling, like a buzz saw chewing through the dry air.
"Officer Mazatl tells me you have found a shack," Odio said nonchalantly.
"That's right," Remo said woodenly.
"And there were dead men in this shack."
"Right again," Remo said, looking down at the ground.
"Is there anything you would like to tell me about this matter?" Odio said good-naturedly.
"No." Remo folded his arms stubbornly.
FJP Officer Guadalupe Mazatl clenched her strong teeth. This was Mexico, not Texas. Who did these gringos think they were?
Then the old one spoke up.
"Where do these lead?" he asked, pointing to the railroad tracks below.
Comandante Odio glanced down.
"That is the Central route to Mexico City," he offered. "They call the train El Aguila Azteca-the Aztec Eagle. Despite the name, it is a very slow train. In Mexico, everything runs slowly --- comprende?"
"Except helicopters, I hope," Remo put in.
Taking the hint, Comandante Odio shut up. He concentrated on his flying. He felt the burning gaze of Officer Mazatl boring into him. He could also read the brown Indian woman's mind. She was thinking: How dare you let these gringos push you around in your own land?
He bestowed on her a dazzling smile, causing her to look away in abrupt anger.
Twenty minutes later, Comandante Oscar Odio was turning the full radiance of his Latin smile on Remo and Chiun as he escorted them into his simple office.
"Yentlemen, mi oficina es su oficina, as we Mexicans say."
"Thanks," Remo said brusquely, grabbing up the telephone.
"The switchboard operator will connect you to a U. S. operator," Comandante Odio added, closing the door behind him.
Fortunately for Remo, the operator spoke English. Remo gave the U. S. operator the number of a fictitious comicbook company in New York City, which relayed the call automatically to the office of Dr. Harold W. Smith on an untappable line.
While Remo listened to the line buzz, the Master of Sinanju spoke up.
"Do not forget to tell Emperor Smith that I had deduced the terrible truth before we found proof of the Vice-President's perfidy," he hissed.
The line clicked. Remo waved Chiun away.
"Smith, Remo. The President isn't dead."
"What!"
"We don't have him, but we think we know where he's heading."
"Is your line secure?" Smith asked suddenly.
"Screw security," Remo snapped. "Do you want to know about the President or don't you? I've had it with bureaucratic bullshit. We're talking about our President!"
Smith subsided. "Go ahead, Remo," he said in a sober voice.
"We followed some tracks to a little shack in the middle of nowhere," Remo explained quickly. "Found three dead terrorists there. Middle Easterners. Probably Palestinian. They had the President, but he went off with someone else."
"Who?"
Remo took a deep breath. "This is going to be hard to believe."
"Go ahead, Remo."
"Do you know where the Vice-President is right at this minute?" Remo asked in an odd voice.
"As a matter of fact, yes. They've got him on a photo opportunity tour at a drug-rehabilitation center. It's part of the White House's plan to keep him occupied until we have definite word of the President's fate."
"Well," Remo said, "sometime in the last ten hours, he was here in Mexico. He rescued the President from the terrorists."
"No!" Chiun broke in. "Remo, you are telling it wrong. The President of Vice is a conspirator. He merely dispatched his unnecessary underlings after they did his will and abducted the unfortunate President. "
Remo clapped one hand over the receiver. "Let me tell it, will you, Chiun?"
"What's this?" Smith asked, his voice twisted with concern.