"You are smart for a stupid Russian," Chiun remarked.
Remo gave them both a look, but he searched the place anyway. The trouble was that he didn't know what he was looking for. He never had been much good at this sort of thing. It was a lot easier when Smith did all the rooting around and just told Remo who the hit was, what he looked like and where to find him.
As a consequence of his preoccupation, Remo found nothing and said so.
"There's nothing here."
"Now I will try," Pavel Zarnitsa offered. He ignored every area Remo had already checked, simply because he had watched Remo go through the house and knew there was nothing of worth to be found in those places. Remo had been looking for hidden materials. Pavel knew that the FOES group did not hide things. They were not that well-trained or that smart. Consequently, they had outsmarted Remo.
"Here," Pavel said, returning from the kitchen. He had a notepad on which someone had been doodling. In among the doodles were two words, "Broken Arrow."
Remo read the pad. "Doesn't mean anything to me. Better call Smith."
"Who's Smith?" Pavel asked.
The look Remo and Chiun gave him made Pavel wish very, very much that he had not asked that question.
"I will wait in the next room while you talk," Pavel offered.
Despite the late hour, Remo got Smith immediately. Remo rattled off the events of the evening as fast as he could. "The only clue we found," he finished, "is a notepad. Someone wrote Broken Arrow on it."
"Anything else?" Smith asked.
"No. It's stuck in the middle of some doodles, but they aren't anything."
"Broken Arrow is a code designation for a serious nuclear accident," Smith said. "The code for a lesser incident is Bent Spear."
"Then it's just someone scribbling on a notepad," Remo suggested.
"There's also a town named Broken Arrow in Oklahoma. Near Tulsa, I think."
"Then we'd better check it out," Remo said.
"No. You told me you overheard the individual called the World Master issue instructions to place the warhead in Oklahoma City for detonation. You must go there first. Finding that device is everything now, Remo. The newspapers know about the Titan accident now."
"I thought they already did," Remo said.
"They had rumors. But I just had information that the New York Times is about to break an eyewitness account of the missile salvage operation. Evidently, a reporter named..." Smith paused and Remo heard a rustle of papers."... Thad Screiber managed to get close to the operation. I don't know where he fits in."
"He doesn't anymore," Remo said. "He's here. Dead. They killed him."
"That may be good," Smith decided. "If this whole story gets out, it will galvanize the antinuclear people. They're apt to go overboard and demand we dismantle our defensive missile program."
"Yeah. Well, that's your worry, Smitty. I'm going to have my hands full finding that warhead and handling Chiun at the same time." Remo lowered his voice and glanced sideways at Chiun, who was peeking into the next room to make sure the Russian wasn't eavesdropping. "Chiun is convinced this World Master had something to do with his ancestors. It's too complicated to explain now, but Chiun wants to be friends with him."
"Chiun believes this person is what he claims to be?"
"Yeah. Maybe I do, too. I don't know. But I do know if it comes down to a choice between Oklahoma City and not antagonizing him, I'd get ready to order a new set of wall maps."
"Hmmm," Smith mused. "Perhaps I'd better recall Chiun to Folcroft. Tell him the sun is setting in the east."
"Huh? It's not—"
"That's the code for him to return on his own."
"Oh," Remo said. "Hey, Chiun, Smith says to tell you that the sun is setting in the east."
"Tell Emperor Smith he does not have to worry," Chiun called back. "The Master of Sinanju will return when he has finished the Emperor's business."
"You heard him," Remo told Smith. "He's not budging."
"Very well," Smith said grimly. "I'm going to count on you, Remo. You must not fail. Locate the warhead and inform me immediately. I'll take care of the rest."
"What about this Russian?"
"Did you get his name?"
"No. Never thought to ask," Remo said. He called into the next room. "Hey, buddy, you got a name?"
"Ivan Vobla," Pavel called back.
"His name is Pavel Zarnitsa," Chiun spat. "I heard him called that."
"Yeah, that's right," Remo said. "This World Master recognized him right off. Called him by name. He can't figure it out himself. He keeps babbling about it."
"Remo, are you sure?" Smith demanded.
"Yeah, I am. Why?"
"I don't know," Smith said slowly. "Let me check my files." There was a pause while Smith called up some information on his computer.
"Yes, I do have a Pavel Zarnitsa. KGB. Currently stationed in New York City to monitor Russian employees working for Aeroflot. Extremely few people know he is in America..."
"So what do I do with him?"
"I don't know where he fits in, but hold on to him. Better yet, tell Chiun that he is responsible for Zarnitsa. That may keep him from interfering with your movements."
Remo looked over and saw Chiun and the Russian giving each other looks of mutual dislike.
"I'm sure they're both going to be very happy with your decision," Remo said before he hung up.
?Chapter Fifteen
Amanda Bull was beginning to wonder. She had had questions before, but the World Master had always answered them, and the answers had always dispelled her worries. She had had doubts before, but they were little doubts, and they always went away when she stopped thinking of them.
They didn't go away this time.
All during the ride back to Oklahoma City, she had questions and doubts. She could understand that there might be a reason for the World Master's spacecraft to suddenly disintegrate. A malfunction, for instance. Unavoidable, perhaps. She could understand the need to evacuate everyone. There was the danger from Remo, and then the strange man with the gun and the thick accent. Who had he been? And why did the World Master shout that he had ruined everything? There were probably answers to those questions, too. Good, sensible, logical answers. Of that, Amanda had little doubt.
What really disturbed Amanda did not strike her until after she and the rest of the Preparation Group had been led from the burning barn by the World Master himself. He had seemingly materialized out of the sparks and flames and smoke to take Amanda's hand and lead her out of the blaze through a hole between two boards. The others had followed while Remo and the Oriental were trying to escape themselves. It had been dark, and no one could see very clearly. Except the World Master. It had been he who made them all link hands and who led them to the waiting van. It had been he who had ordered the others to take the van, while pushing himself and Amanda into that reporter's car, which was parked nearby, and instructed them all to drive as fast as possible to Oklahoma City. All that made sense, and so Amanda followed orders as she always did.
But what was strange, and what did not hit home until they were on the road and clearly going to escape pursuit, was that the World Master seemed to have no trouble breathing in the Earth's atmosphere.
Amanda looked into the rearview mirror for the sixth time. Even in the darkness of a country road she could see that the individual who occupied the rear seat of the car was not wearing a helmet of any kind. He didn't have a breathing mask, either. That was clear. As for the face of the World Master, it had frightened Amanda horribly the first time she had looked into the mirror, and she almost lost control of the car. But, as if she were at a freak show, she couldn't resist another look, and then still another, until the shadowy face hovering behind her in the dark seemed like an image out of a horror movie— scary, but familiar.