But what had they been attacking?
When the steering wheel lurched to the right, Rashid experienced understanding. He had a momentary flash, like telepathy, that his front tires had burst. Somehow, he had the wild mental image that the two men had burst them. He could imagine their flying feet doing that somehow. He knew it was impossible, but his mind leapt to that conclusion as if it was the only way it could correlate what was happening to him.
Then the bus lurched off the road onto the soft shoulder and down the riverbank.
Rashid's face kissed the windshield with shattering finality and the brackish taste of the river mud fouled his mouth.
Remo waded into the water, shoved open the folding doors, and looked in.
"Dead," he called back to Chiun.
"So perish the enemies of Sinanju," Chiun said firmly.
"You mean the enemies of Reverend Sluggard," Rerno said, returning to the roadside. "And he was probably the only one who could tell us what's going on."
"Perhaps one of the others lived."
"After a double Scarlet Ribbon? We'll be lucky if their fingerprints survived."
"True," said Chiun. "Although I noticed that during the first stage of the attack, your elbow was bent."
"It was not."
"Slightly."
"No way."
"Just a hair."
"Let's see if the Booe kid is alive," Remo said, annoyed. "I think he might have something to tell us."
"What makes you say that?"
"Reverend-General Sluggard turned white as a sheet when I mentioned that the kid was back. He was scared shitless."
"Reverend-General?"
"He was wearing a uniform, sword, and all the trimmings. "
"Then I was right!" Chiun exclaimed.
"About what?"
"I will tell you after the boy confirms it."
"Why not now so I won't be surprised?"
"You will be surprised in either case. And perhaps then you and Smith will finally learn to heed my wisdom. "
"Don't count on it," Remo said.
Chapter 21
They found Lamar Booe on the floor of the guard box. The floor was a sticky red.
Remo snapped the door off its hinges and knelt over the boy.
"Can you talk, son?" he asked.
The boy's mouth opened. A line of scarlet leaked out of one corner. He gurgled. Remo saw that the ragged hole in his chest bubbled like a little red fountain. He would not live. Remo placed a forefinger over the hole and said gently, "Try."
"Is he dead?" Booe gurgled.
"Yes, we got them all. Were they Iranians?"
"Yes," said Chiun.
"No," Lamar Booe gasped.
"He is clearly delirious," Chiun said. "They were Persians. "
"I meant ... Sluggard," Booe gasped.
"Sluggard? An Iranian?" Remo asked.
"I believe he is trying to learn if the Sluggard is dead. Is that correct, boy?" Chiun asked.
Lamar Booe nodded weakly. His face was drained of color.
"No, he got away," Remo told him.
"Too . . . damn . . . bad. "
"What are you saying?" Remo demanded.
"He ... got me ... into this," Lamar Booe said in a pain-blurred voice.
"This what?"
"Crusade."
"What about his crusade? What does that have to do with anything?" Remo asked.
Lamar Booe shook his head wearily. No words came.
"He means 'crusade' in the old sense. A holy war," Chiun intoned. "Is that not so?"