"You say you smelled napalm?"
"Yeah. I know that smell from Nam"
"Someone inside the park activated a self-destruct program. It is the only possible explanation."
"But who?"
"Remo, are you certain Sam Beasley is dead?"
"Decapitated. It's better than dead."
"Because a helicopter lifted off from Euro Beasley over an hour ago. French police helicopters gave chase but lost it."
"Could have been anyone."
"Spotters say a man resembling Uncle Sam was seen in the cockpit."
"Probably that nephew of his. What's his name? Roy?"
"Robert. I have no computer audit trail showing he has left the country, Remo."
"Uncle Sam is lying back there in the castle in two unequal parts. Trust me. Right, Little Father?"
"Except that we could not find the head."
"What was that?" asked Smith.
"Nothing."
"Was something said about Uncle Sam's head?"
"Chiun said he couldn't find Uncle Sam's head. We had him cornered and he greened us, but Chiun got him before we blacked out. When we woke up, he was sitting on the floor without his head."
"Did you look for it?"
"Who had time? We were about to be nuked."
"Remo, I want you to go back and be certain Uncle Sam Beasley is dead."
"Too late. The castle is ashes by now."
Smith sighed. "At least the technology was destroyed with it."
"What about this guy Cheatwood?"
"Who?"
"Rod Cheatwood. He invented the hypercolor laser. Said all he was trying to do was come up with a foolproof TV remote-control finder, but the Beasley Corporation turned it into something else."
"There must be no repetition of this event."
"How about we just wipe out his memory?"
"Wipe out whose memory?" Rod Cheatwood asked from the side of the road.
"And get back as soon as you can," said Smith. "Americans are still persona non grata in France."
"I am Korean," said Chiun, "and welcome everywhere."
Remo hung up and walked over to Rod Cheatwood. He took the hypercolor lasers from his hands and squeezed them until they popped and imploded to shards of plastic and microchips.
"You didn't tell us you built a second cybernetic eyeball."
"Of course I built two. A radio-animatronic robot needs two, doesn't he?"
"Fair enough. You're not a bad guy, just foolish. So we're not going to kill you."
"I appreciate that," Rod said. "Really."
"We're going to wipe out your memory so you're not a danger to anyone's national security."
"Can you wipe it out back to 1986?"
"Why then?"
"So I can watch every episode of 'Star Trek: the Next Generation' all over again fresh."
Remo looked at Rod Cheatwood a long moment and said, "It's your memory." And while Rod Cheatwood closed his eyes, a goofy smile coming over his face, Remo tapped him in the exact center of his forehead. Rod crumpled to the ground, and the Master of Sinanju crouched down and began whispering into his ear.
"You will forget you were ever born."
"Hey, that's not what I promised him!"
"That is why I am making certain this cretin troubles us no more with his idiocies."
When the Master of Sinanju was through, he stood up and said, "What about her?"
"Might as well break the happy news." Remo knelt down, lifted her head off the ground and massaged the back of Dominique's neck.
Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself being held off the ground by a strong hand at the back of her neck. She was looking into Remo's dark brown eyes.
"Good news. We didn't get frapped. "
"Non?"
"Jerry Lewis saved us."