Winston gripped the controls tightly and closed his eyes.
"Sorry, kid," Remo said. "Sometimes the book ends this way."
Winston nodded stiffly. "One last thing."
"What's that?"
Winston tossed his Hellfire pistol into Remo's lap. Around it was wrapped the black ski mask of the Extinguisher.
"Get rid of that stupid thing."
"Whatever you say," said Remo, giving the ungainly weapon a casual toss. It zoomed out, then down, landing with striking precision into the crater.
Winston choked back a sob. "Let's get the hell out of here."
"Make for the border," said Remo.
"What's up there that I should care about?"
"Your future-if you want one."
Winston pushed on the collective, and the chopper put Smoking Mountain and Mexico behind it forever.
Chapter 54
Sunny Joe Roam heard the helicopter in the distance. He came out of his hogan, his windburned face tense.
He called out to his Sun On Jo braves, who were pitching pennies against a giant saguaro cactus.
"Anybody expecting company?"
No one did. So he set his white Stetson on his head and loped up to the settling chopper on his long, denim-clad legs.
A man stepped out of the cockpit. He was young and blond, and there was something familiar about his eyes, but Sunny Joe couldn't place him.
On the other hand, the two other figures were very familiar. A warmth broke over the sandstone lines of his face.
He raised his booming voice. "Remo! Chief! What brings you two back to the reservation?"
Remo waved without much spirit. Their smiles did not light in return. Frowning, Sunny Joe quickened his pace.
"What's wrong?"' he asked as the rotor finished winding down.
Remo shook his hand. "It's a long story. I have a favor to ask."
"Ask away."
Remo set a hand on the shoulder of the young blond man. "This is Winston Smith."
"Howdy."
The boy frowned with all of his face. "Don't call me Smith. It's not my real name."
"This is my son," said Remo.
The boy looked uncomfortable. "I won't fight it if you won't," he muttered to Remo.
"No one's exactly in a hurry to match up DNA, so we're operating on pure rumor," Remo explained.
Sunny Joe's sunsquint eyes blinked several time. "Damned if you don't have your grandmother's eyes."
Winston asked, "Who?"
"My wife. Long gone now."
"Who are you?"
Sunny Joe eyed Remo. "You didn't tell him, Remo?"
"Tell me what?" Winston demanded.
"If you're his son, I'm your grandfather," said Sunny Joe Roam.
"You? You're an Indian!"
"Got news for you," said Remo. "So are you. Get used to it."
"I can't be an Indian."
"Let me talk to you alone for a minute," Remo told Sunny Joe. They walked off together.
As they did, Winston Smith looked at the Master of Sinanju. "That big guy looks kinda familiar."
"He is a very famous actor."
"He is?"
"Yes."
"Looks like a big Indian to me."
"He is that, too," Chiun said.
REMO FINISHED TELLING his story. "I have no right to ask this, but the kid's been through a rough time. He was raised to think his parents were dead. He's only starting to get an idea who he really is. He's confused, needs a home and someone to steer him along until he figures out where his life is going."
"You want me to take him off your hands, is that it?"