And then snapped it, as if it were a bread stick.
He smiled again at the fishing boat captain.
The captain decided a run out to the island would be nice on a day like today, and five dollars . . . he was going to get a whole five dollars for himself? ... oh, joy. He would be glad to wait at the island dock until the old Oriental gentleman was done and ready to come back.
When the boat docked at the island, Chiun put down the two broken pieces of fishing rod he had held all the way across the water on the trip and cautioned the captain not to leave until Chiun returned. "No matter how long it takes," he said.
The captain had looked at Chiun, then at the broken fishing pole, and agreed to wait.
As he stepped lightly off onto the dock, Chiun wondered why Remo was always complaining about how difficult it was to get around using public transportation. Chiun never had any trouble.
The two guards at the front door were a different matter, but they were functionaries and that was the
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role of functionaries in the world, to stop busy people from doing the things that must be done.
They explained to Chiun that no one was allowed inside the house without proper identification; Chiun explained to them that it was necessary for him to talk to the Emir; and they explained that this was impossible. Clearly impossible.
Chiun left them lying by the side of the porch. If he had not been so delighted at the ease of finding a cab and a boat, and not in such a good mood, he might have hurt them seriously, but instead, he just put them to sleep temporarily.
As he did the guard outside the door to the Emir's bedroom.
When Chiun went in, the Emir was sitting up in bed. His face lit up as he saw the old Oriental.
"Ahh, my friend, you have not forgotten to come back and visit me."
"It is my pleasure, Your Highness," Chiun said.
"I am surprised my men did not tell me you were on the way up."
"They will tell you all about it when they awaken," Chiun said.
The Emir laughed. "They are not hurt?"
Chiun shook his head.
"They are good men," the Emir said.
Chiun corrected him. "Perhaps they are good-intentioned men. It is not the same thing, Your Highness."
The Emir nodded, seeming to think about Chiun's statement for a few moments.
"Is your companion, Remo, with you on this visit?" he said. He turned toward the left window in the room, and the slowly sinking sun splashed his
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face with orange light, erasing the pallor that approaching death had laid upon his features.
"No. And it is not a visit. I am here on a mission," Chiun said.
"Yes?"
"Do you trust the people around you?" Chiun asked.
"As much as I must," The Emir said.
"Your assistant?"
"Pakir? He's been with me for many years. Yes, I trust him."
"Your sister, the Princess?"
"She loves me. I think she would give her life to save mine," the Emir said. "I have faith that you will," the Emir said. He
Chiun looked at the dying monarch. How much, J paused a moment, then said, "Tell me. Why is it I he wondered, should he tell him? I have this feeling that you and I have met? Or that
tacked by these men, the Princess arrived. And later so did Pakir."
"Master Chiun, I appreciate your good intentions. But I trust those people wholeheartedly. If they were there, as you say and I have no doubt, then they were trying to save me from murderers and assassins so I can wait for my natural death. Oh yes, I know I am going to die. I am prepared for it. You saw it in your examination, did you not?"
Chiun nodded.
"We will do our best to see that you are allowed to die in your own way, with dignity," the Korean said.
"There have been attempts on our lives in the last several days," Chiun said. "By people of your country."
"Did you get their names?"
"No. They had no identification," Chiun said.
"But you were sure they were of my country? You know, many nationalities look alike," the Emir said.
"That is true," said Chiun. "But few of them eat alike. The mouths of these men exuded the smell of parindor, the spice that is used in cooking your national dishes."
The Emir nodded. "Why would they try to kill you and not me? Assuming that I am the eventual target?" he asked.
there is some feeling between us that goes back many years?"
"We have not met," Chiun said. "But our ancestors did many years ago."
"On a battlefield?" the Emir said.
"No. The House of Sinanju was retained to work for your royal house. The Master at that time did his task, but was not paid. If I could only keep you alive, I would send you a bill for the amount."
"And if I could stay alive, I would pay it gladly," the Emir said. "The House of Sinanju," he said softly. "Of course, I have heard of it, in the archives of our land. I thought it was just a myth, a legend."
"A legend," Chiun said. "But not a myth. I will leave now."
"Perhaps they are waiting for the price to reach f As he was at the bedroom door, the Emir called
its highest level," Chiun said. "After we were at- I his name softly. When Chiun turned, the deposed
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1
ruler said, "I trust not the Americans. They were once my friends, but now I think I am an embarrassment to them. I think they would like it better if I were dead. Once it was not like this," he said but his voice trailed off into the mists of memory, and sleep came over his tired body.
"You will not come to harm while I live," Chiun said. "Or there will be many who pay the debt of your death." But the Emir was not listening; he had lapsed into sleep.
"Where've you been?" Remo asked when Chiun returned to their hotel room.
"I must account for my whereabouts now like a school child?" Chiun said.
"No, I guess you don't," Remo said.
"So have I," Remo said. "If that guy who tried to hit me tonight was a federal agent, it might just mean that our government is involved in an attempt to put away the Emir. Now if you still want us to protect him, we will. But we might wind up killing a lot of our own. Do you want to chance it?"
"That's just what I was thinking about," Smith said. "So I checked it out again. The man who tried to kill you tonight, well, his identification was that of an FBI agent. But he wasn't the man. I had the fingerprints checked. He wasn't the real agent."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know, but he wasn't an FBI agent."
Something was nipping at Remo's mind and memory. "Listen," he said. "The real agent. Was he assigned to guard the Emir?"
"I went to see the Emir." i "Yes. He had been before he quit," Smith said.
"And?" I «All right. Now the guy who's in charge of that
"I wanted to hear what he thought about his sis-
ter," Chiun said.
"What does he think about her?" Remo asked.
"He trusts her." «No Yqucheck y0Uf ffles mifind out what
"And you don't?" Remo said.
'T only know that the lady is clever and strong-willed, and that she has blinded you so you fail to see beyond her skin."
"Well, maybe not after tonight," Remo said. Quickly, he told Chiun about the attempt on him as he was leaving Sarra's apartment building.
"That woman is always close when death arrives," Chiun said.
The telephone rang. It was Smith.
"Remo," he said, "I've been doing some think-
detail . . . what's his name . . . Randisi. What does he look like?" Remo asked.
"You saw him," Smith said. "You tell me."
description is. I'll wait."
Remo heard the telephone being laid down and he could hear the desk-top computer screen slide open. He could hear typewriter keys being depressed, and then a faint whir. A few moments later, Smith was back on the line.
"He's thirty-five, salt and pepper hair, brown eyes, six-foot-two, two-hundred pounds. A small scar alongside the right corner of his mouth."