She simmered at Remo and took her seat in the galley.
“Now you know why I hate flight attendants,” Remo said.
“Maybe you should treat them with a little more respect.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking. Maybe you have the time to intercourse the flight crew of every commercial aircraft in the North American commercial fleets—I don’t. Let’s talk. Junior.”
Mark Howard felt his stomach drop as the aircraft left the ground and muscled its way skyward. “I’m sorry, Remo. How many times can I say it.”
“Huh? Junior, you never once said you were sorry about any of this.”
“Any of what?”
“Hello? Nice Remo taking a nice vacation, mean old Mark come and make nice Remo leave?”
“I’m not sorry about that!”
“What I want to know is, where in my contract does it say that you get to call and demand my services whenever you feel like it?”
Howard rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Remo, I don’t know where and if I told you section and paragraph it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. I do know there is a 24/7 clause in the contract.”
Remo looked suspicious. “What’s a 24/7 clause?”
“Just what it sounds like. It means you’ll be available 24/7.”
“Is that some sort of code for ‘all the time’?”
Howard sighed. “You know, twenty-four hours in a day, seven days a week.”
“This one of Smitty’s sneaky word tricks?”
“It’s a pretty common term.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s internet vernacular.”
“Figures.”
“Can we talk about the mission now?”
“Any other internet vernacular in the contract? I want to know what other unpleasant obligations I have.”
“I don’t have a copy of your contract on me,” Howard exclaimed. “Why is every conversation with you like arguing with a smart parrot?”
Remo grinned and sat back in his seat. “Could be worse. Could be Chiun.”
“Chiun is not worse! Chiun is not as egotistical.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Chiun is not as arrogant.”
“He’s the emperor of arrogance.”
“But he’s a grown-up, Remo. Maybe that’s what makes the difference.”
“I think I’ll throw a snit now and give you the silent treatment all the way to New York.”
“We’re going to Morocco.”
“Aw, crap.”
Mark endured the silent treatment only so long before he said, “Look, Remo, I know I made an idiot of myself in Arizona.”
Remo said nothing.
“I was just looking at her. I mean, I saw her, and she sort of took my breath away. I feel bad about it.”
Remo shook his head. “You don’t feel bad about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I was over it before we left the village. You’re the one who won’t let it drop.”
“Oh.” Mark Howard looked at Remo seriously and said, “But you know I would never even try to—you know.”
“What? Take Freya to the movies?”
“Yes. I could never take her to the movies. There’s a hundred reasons why it wouldn’t work, even if I wanted it to.”
‘Which you don’t,” Remo added.
“’Course not. CURE security would never allow it. Not to mention the distance between Rye and Yuma, and who knows if she would have any interest in me at all anyway, even if I did have an interest in her? Then there’s the cultural differences.” Mark stopped. “What kind of a cultural background does she have? Freya’s not a Native American name.”
“No, she didn’t join the Sun On Jos until she was I twelvish. Before that she was the daughter of Norse princess and the avatar of Hindu deity.”
Howard said, “Okay, I deserve that.”
“Deserve what? That’s the truth.”
“You’re trying to demonstrate how you feel about me checking out your daughter.”
Remo smirked. “Wrong, Junior. It’s not like that. I’m not going to go roughing up guys who get interested in Freya. She’s as intelligent as she is beautiful, and she’s got good instincts. She can take care of herself and she sure as shitting can make her own good decisions.”
Howard nodded. “Do you, you know, have a father-daughter relationship?”
“With our history?” Remo asked. “Not too much. Sunny Joe might be a different story.”
“Sunny Joe’s like you,” Mark said. “He wouldn’t dream of telling Freya how to run her life. It’s not his way. That’s what I picked up from him, anyway.”
“You pegged him.”
“And Freya?”
Remo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared down. Instead of the floor he saw the goldenhaired image of Freya catching a coyote in her hands in the Arizona desert.
“Freya is Sun On Jo,” Remo said. “She’s all the best of Sun On Jo ways rolled up into one human being.”
Mark smiled, shrugged a little. “I haven’t a clue what Sun On Jo is all about, so I don’t really know what it says about her.”
“She’s taken to heart everything Sunny Joe Roam had to teach her. I guess Sunny Joe’s really her father.” Remo thought about his own words and felt…what? Lonely? Saddened? Yes, he felt sad.
Mark got down to business. “I’ve got to warn you, Remo, Dr. Smith is unhappy.”
“Smitty and happy are like matter and antimatter. They can’t exist in the same room together.”
“No, Remo,” Mark said, “I mean he’s really angry. Like I’ve never seen him before. And you’re the one he’s mad at.”
“Because I took time off? He’s out of line.”
“Just warning you.” Mark Howard flipped open his laptop and dialed a satellite connection into Folcroft’s secure system, and a moment later the cabin of the aircraft was treated to the lemony voice of Dr. Harold W. Smith through the laptop speakers.
“Is Remo with you, Mark?”
“I’m here and I’m not in the mood for your crap.”
“Remo, do you know what trouble you’ve caused?”
“Didn’t you hear the part about the crap?”
“Military components have been sold on the black market. A CIA agent is dead. You could have prevented these things from happening.”
“Bulldookey.”
“That’s just the start, Remo. You’ve been getting out.. of hand lately. You flagrantly compromise the security of CURE.”
“Do not.”
“You’ve been raking up huge, frivolous expenses.”
“You’re making that up.”
“And you’re doing a bad job.”
“Remember what I said at the start of this phone call? Your crap. Not in the mood.”
“I don’t care if you’re in the mood or not, I want you to be aware just how poorly—”
“What happens when I do this?” Remo asked Mark, slapping the laptop computer closed. It latched with a click.
“Remo!” Howard exclaimed. “You disconnected Dr. Smith.”
“Really? That’s exactly what I wanted to do. See, I know how to work a computer.”
Mark Howard quickly opened the unit and didn’t have to dial into Folcroft, because the line was ringing in.
“Remo, I do not appreciate this disrespect,” Smith said insistently.
“I don’t appreciate being treated like your errand boy.”
“You have an obligation—”
“I have a life. Not much of one outside of CURE, but it is a little tiny one. How did that fit into this whole thing?”
“Not at all,” Smith intoned angrily.
“That’s what I thought,” Remo said and closed the computer again, so fast Mark Howard couldn’t begin to stop him.
“Remo!” He opened it swiftly.
“Take a letter, Junior.”
“What?” The computer made a distinctly insistent and lemony beeping.
“Answer that, Junior, and I’ll turn the computer off again, permanently.”