Warren Murphy: Bidding War

"Is that what I think it is?" he said thickly.

"It is," said Remo.

"Where did you—er, what is it doing in my office?"

Remo spanked it once. "Kim Jong II gave it to us in trade."

"It is the North Korean atomic bomb?"

"Their only one."

Smith stepped back and fell into a sitting position on a green vinyl divan. "Why have you brought it here?"

"It is for sale," said Chiun loftily. "To the highest bidder."

"Actually we were thinking of a trade," said Remo.

"Trade?"

"Yeah." Remo addressed Chiun. "Can I handle this, Little Father?"

The Master of Sinanju nodded. "Do not fail, because the lives of my villagers are hanging in the balance."

"It's like this, Smitty. The good old USA has locked an ICBM on Sinanju. We want it declared a nontarget."

Smith started. "Where did you hear this?"

"Check it out if you don't believe me."

Harold Smith did. He rushed to his desk only to realize he couldn't access his system because of the bomb.

"Er, Remo. Could you… ?"

"Sure," Remo said brightly.

Stepping up, Remo wrapped his arms around the ungainly device and lifted it up and away. It went thunk on the hardwood floor.

"Be careful with that!" Smith gasped.

"Relax. It's not armed. At least, that's what they told us."

Smith booted up his desk computer and worked diligently for several minutes. He became utterly oblivious to his surroundings. When his patrician face came up, his gray skin was two shades paler and his voice had a frog in it.

"I can confirm that an SS-20 missile is currently targeted on the village of Sinanju. But why?"

"Washington thinks it's a secret-weapon installation."

"Where do they get that idea?"

"Pyongyang announced it controlled a secret weapon it called the Sinanju Scorpion," explained Remo. "Someone found Sinanju on a map, checked it out by satellite, noticed the three-lane highway Kim II Sung built for Chiun's convenience and decided the Horns of Welcome had to be some kind of death thingy."

"They are more correctly called the Horns of Warning," said Chiun.

"You've been to Sinanju, Smitty. You know what I'm talking about."

"Isn't it a natural rock formation?" Smith asked.

Chiun shook his aged head. "The rock is natural, but Master Yong carved it into the shape that welcomed seafaring clients and warned invaders that here was the inviolate seat of the Master of Sinanju. Ever since Yong, Korea has been conquered many times, but my village remains forever free."

Smith's prim mouth tightened to a bloodless knot. "You mentioned a trade."

"Yeah," said Remo. "According to Jong, this is the North's only nuke. It's yours if you de-target Sinanju."

"Done," said Harold Smith.

Remo blinked. "Can you do that?"

Smith nodded firmly. "Either through secret channels or directly through the President, but I assure you both it can and will be done."

"Good," said Remo, satisfied.

"Er—will there be anything else?"

Remo eyed Chiun and the Master of Sinanju nodded silently.

"We're still on the open market," said Remo.

Smith wiped his brow with a handkerchief. "I know. The planet is on the brink of global conflagration as a result."

"We've kinda been away from cable these last couple of days. But the good news is that we defused the Korean crisis."

"I can suggest the President redouble his efforts to secure funding to reactivate your contract."

Chiun piped up. "Triple."

"Triple," Smith blurted.

"Triple. For we are secret weapons now, sought mightily by nations across the face of the earth."

"Will you accept diamonds and other valuables in supplement for half of the gold involved?"

"No. The House no longer accepts diamonds, for they are not truly valuable or rare. I have been told this by no less than PBS, whom some conspirators are attempting to suppress."

"One-third silver?" Smith said hopefully.

"No. No silver, no electrum and no aluminum."

"Aluminum?"

"A Master made an error," Chiun said blandly. "He thought he was being paid in a rare new metal. He later discovered it was only new."

"I see," said Smith. "And which Master was that?"

"His name does not matter," Chiun said testily. "It is enough to know he was young at the time and later learned from his mistake, bringing great wealth and fame to the village. His name will one day be writ large in the Book of Sinanju."

"It was Chiun," Remo whispered to Smith. "One of his first assignments. He's still embarrassed about it."

"Cease whispering," Chiun spat. "Now I must have your answer, Smith."

Harold Smith swallowed so hard his Adam's apple bobbed.

"I will see what I can do," he said, reaching for the red telephone link to the White House.

The President of the United States was firm. He was direct. He was decisive.

The combined Joint Chiefs of Staff barely recognized him.

"The crisis is over," he said flatly.

"Which one?"

"All of them. The Iraqis have surrendered, the South Koreans have withdrawn to the Thirty-eighth Parallel, Macedonia and the Balkans have subsided and the Mexican army is withdrawing from our border, with apologies."

The Joint Chiefs of Staff were so stunned they were at a loss for words.

"And we have come into possession of the only nuclear weapon developed in North Korea," he announced.

The generals regarded one another doubtfully.

"Are you certain of your facts?" asked the JCS chair.

"It's ours," the President said firmly.

The secretary of defense couldn't conceal his disbelief. "The North surrendered their only nuke, with the South Koreans knocking at their gates?"

"That's all I can tell you at this time."

The JCS absorbed this information in a pregnant silence.

"We also have an opportunity to acquire the technology that is sweeping the globe," the President added.

"Do we know what it is?"

"I know what it is," the President said forcefully.

"Please share it with us, Mr. President," the secretary of defense said.

"Sorry. It's classified."

"From us?"

"That's the way it has to be. Now we can acquire this technology, but it's going to cost us."

"I think we should pay any price. Don't you agree?"

"Absolutely. Once we have one of these things, we have parity with other nations. We have to have parity. It's imperative."

Everyone agreed parity was imperative even if they didn't know what the secret weapon under discussion actually was.

"We're going to have to buy it," said the President.

"Fine."

"Once we have it, the mere possession of this weapon will effectively render the secret weapons in other hands absolutely impotent."

"It's that powerful?"

"It's that powerful," the President said in a steely voice. "But it's going to be an expensive acquisition."

The secretary of the Navy pounded his fist on the table and said, "Weil pay any price, endure any sacrifice."

And the President smiled coolly. "I'm glad you gentlemen said that, because you're all going to have to pony up if we are to acquire the Sinanju Scorpion."

"Er—how much we talking about here? In round numbers?"

The President named a figure.

The secretary of defense was indignant. His face turned bright red. "Defense can't afford that!"

"The defense of the United States can't afford to let this opportunity go sailing past us, never to return," answered the President.

The JCS swallowed hard, their Adam's apples bobbing dissynchronously.

"Well, we can scratch that next batch of submarines," the secretary of the Navy muttered.

"We can close a few more bases," said the Air Force chief of staff.

"I never did like the Osprey," said the commandant of the Marines. "Damn thing flew like a one-winged pelican."