"You could have let us finish the damn job."
"You said it was finished," Smith said hotly.
"Enough!" cried Chiun, slapping his long-nailed hands together.
Taking the phone from a startled Remo, the Master of Sinanju spoke into the receiver. "O Emperor, let us not revisit past errors. Instruct us. The rebel Verapaz has thus far eluded us, but we persevere. This new problem also calls our name. What is your wish?"
"Destroy them both. I want this mission completed by sundown, if possible."
"It shall be as you wish."
"Do what you have to," Smith said testily.
And Chiun hung up.
"Who were you talking to?" Winston asked when they rejoined them. Assumpta was at the door watching for soldiers.
"Never mind," said Remo.
"It wasn't my Uncle Harold, was it? Did he ask about me?"
"Your name didn't come up, and it was a private conversation."
"Fine. Take a hike. Assumpta and I will handle ourselves from here on. You don't need me. I won't need you."
"We're going to Oaxaca," said Remo.
"And I'm going to hook up with Subcomandante Verapaz."
"I mean all of us."
Winston whipped up his Hellfire supermachine pistol and pointed it in Remo's face. "This baby here says I go my way."
Remo looked at the weapon that seemed to point in every direction except back at its owner. "That thing still voice activated?"
"Get real. I took all that crap out."
"So if I take it away from you, I can shoot you with it if I want to?"
"Nice try. But I can still disable it with a voice command."
"That right?"
"Yeah. That's right. You make a play for it and all I have to say is 'Disengage.'"
"Disengage," the gun said in a mechanical voice, going dead.
"Damn you!" Winston snapped, reaching for a side-mounted button. The barrel lit up, and he trained it on Remo's face.
"Too slow," Winston said.
"Guess so," said Remo.
And while Winston Smith was grinning, Remo coolly said, "Disengage."
"Disengage," the gun repeated obligingly, and then shut down.
"But it wasn't supposed to do that!" Smith complained, a dumbfounded expression crossing his face.
He was still wearing it when Remo pried the weapon from his unresisting fingers.
"We're a team till this is done," Remo said.
"Give me back my piece."
"Behave yourself and maybe I will."
They left the cantina. Assumpta started off ahead of them, looking for transportation.
"The CIA, designed that gun," Winston said after a long silence.
Remo eyed him. "So?"
"It's programmed to recognize my voice. Only my voice."
"Maybe it needs a new chip. "
"But it recognized your voice. It did that last time, too."
Remo said nothing. He didn't like the way this conversation was going, either.
"You know what I think?"
"You do not think!" Chiun said unkindly.
"I think there's a logical explanation. And it means one thing."
"I'm not your father," Remo said hastily.
"It means you're CIA. Come on. Admit it."
"If you had a brain, you'd know a CIA agent doesn't admit anything."
"Gotcha! You just proved my point."
"Congratulations, but it's not true," Remo said dryly.