With the opposing forces at parity, the Canadian vessels were boarded, and the prisoners were clapped in irons. Technically there weren't enough irons to go around, so they improvised with spring lines and other types of cord.
The Master of Sinanju used his fingernails to inflict a temporary spinal paralysis upon the remaining unfettered Canadian seamen.
When the operation was over, the Cayuga had the pleasure of leading the flotilla of cutters, both captors and captured.
Sandy Heckman stood on the bow, the wind in her hair, her hand on her holstered side arm.
"This," she said, "is why I first set out to sea."
"To shoot up other boats?" asked Remo.
"No, to get my blood racing."
In a while they put in at the Coast Guard station at Machias. The commander was there to greet them. He shook Lieutenant Heckman's hand as she came off the gangplank. "Great work, Lieutenant!"
"We helped," Remo said laconically.
The commander bestowed upon Remo and Chiun a very fishy eye. "Who are these two?"
"They claim to be out of Naval Intelligence," Sandy said quickly.
"We rescued her from the vicious Canadians," Remo said dryly.
"You two?"
"Before that," Sandy added, "they said they were with the National Marine Fisheries Service, looking into the fishing crisis."
The commander walked up to Remo and assumed a skeptical demeanor.
"What would be the Navy's interest be in the fishing crisis?"
"That's classified."
"They say that a lot," Sandy remarked dryly. She had her hands on her wide hips and a look in her eye that said that she thought she had the upper hand.
"Out with it," the commander demanded.
"Do not pry further under pain of extreme death," Chiun said thinly.
The commander half suppressed a grin. "Extreme death. What's that?"
The Master of Sinanju floated up to the Coast Guard commander. The commander loomed over the aged Korean. Chiun looked up into his face. The commander looked down.
"Chiun," Remo warned, "he's on our side."
Without taking his eyes off the Coast Guard officer, Chiun said, "He has requested wisdom."
"Okay. But remember, if you must crush a testicle, do only one. He can sue for two crushed testicles, but not one. One is simple assault. Two costs him future children. That's a sueable offense."
Turning white, the commander suddenly crossed his hands in front of his crotch and hopped back like a frightened frog.
"We need a private minute to talk to our boss," Remo said, sensing the trend of the confrontation going their way.
"Done," said the commander, stepping hastily aside.
Remo led Chiun to a secluded spot and called Smith from the cell phone.
Harold Smith's lemony voice was harried when it answered. "Remo, I am aware of your situation."
"Good. What's going on?"
"There is a gigantic naval engagement going on off Halifax, Nova Scotia."
"Who's winning?"
"It is impossible to say. All fishing vessels look alike from the air."
"Huh?"
"The U.S. flotilla has run smack into fishing boats out of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland. They are in pitched battle."
"Over what?"
"Over the right to take cod from whatever waters suit them."
"But the cod is practically extinct around here."
"Which is exactly why it is so deadly important to both sides," Harold Smith said earnestly.
"So we've got three Canadian cutters here. Are we at war?"
"If not at war, very close to it. The President is attempting to work through the diplomatic channels. But the Canadian government is stonewalling him."
"If the Canadians won't listen to him, then who will they listen to?"
"That is an excellent question," said Harold Smith in a hopeless voice.
Chapter 28
The President of the United States had put in a call to the prime minister of Canada.
The call was not returned.
He tried the premier of Quebec.
The premier returned the call but insisted on speaking French. Since the President's command of French was limited to three words, two of them curse words, he found the conversation short and unhelpful.