Warren Murphy - The Eleventh Hour

"Screw this," Remo said, sending the cards skipping, one by one, across the Bay of Sinanju. "From now on I'm just Remo Williams."

He tore the bills to pieces, shredded the leather wallet, and tossed it into the surging tide too. There was a bunch of coins in the other pocket. Remo dug them out and started to pitch them across the waves one by one. Each coin flew farther than the others.

Remo was down to his last few pieces of change, thinking that with each toss he was ridding himself of another piece of his past, when he saw the conning tower push up from the surging surf. And the American flag painted on its side.

"Shit," said Remo, wondering if he should just disappear. But when he saw, across the miles, Dr. Harold W. Smith emerge topside and step into an inflating rubber raft, he instead sat down on a rock to wait for him.

Smith came alone. He wore the inevitable gray three-piece suit, and the even more inevitable briefcase lay at his knees. Salt spray wet them both. Remo grinned at the absurd sight.

Smith let the raft beach itself before stepping out. Remo went down to meet him.

"Remo," Smith said, as if they were coworkers bumping into one another in an office corridor.

"If you're here to take me back to America," Remo said, "you're too late. If you're here for the funeral, you're too early.

"Good. I must speak with Chiun. But first, I must ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"Please answer truthfully. Would you consider working for the Soviets?"

"No way," said Remo.

"I'm glad you said that," said Smith, pulling his automatic.

Remo had sensed the movement even before Smith's brain had given the command to draw. Smith's arm was still in motion when the gun suddenly jumped into Remo's hand.

"Nice try, Smitty," Remo said. "But you know better."

"I had to try," said Smith unemotionally.

"You've disbanded the organization, am I right?" asked Remo, pulling the clip from the gun and throwing the components in opposite directions. "And you don't need me anymore."

"The President gave the order," Smith said. "The Russians have found out about CURE. We have to disband."

"Fine. Disband. Just do it someplace else. I've got things on my mind."

"I wish to speak with the Master of Sinanju."

"I don't think he wants to talk to you."

"I'm afraid I must insist."

"You have nerve, Smitty. First you try to kill me, then you want me to take you to Chiun, figuring you can get him to kill me."

"Will you take me to him?"

Remo grinned broadly. "Sure. My pleasure." And he dragged Smith all the way back to Sinanju, just fast enough that Smith had to run to keep his feet.

"Guess who came to dinner, Little Father," Remo said, when he entered the treasure house.

Chlun looked up from his scrolls with tired eyes. He gave a tiny bow of his head. "Emperor Smith, your presence is welcome. You are here, of course, to witness the investment ceremony."

"No," said Smith, clinging to his briefcase. "Master of Sinanju, I must speak to you ... alone."

"Forget it, Smitty. He won't kill me. I'm head of the village now."

Chiun stared at Smith with impassive eyes.

"I have no secrets from Remo. Although it cannot be said that he has no secrets from me."

"Very well, Master of Sinanju. First let me remind you of your contract with the United States, specifically clause thirty-three, paragraph one."

"I remember that clause," said Chiun. "A worthy clause. Perhaps outdated, but sufficient for its time."

"The cherry blossoms are in bloom," said Smith, giving the agreed-upon code word for Chlun to kill Remo. It had been part of their agreement.

"I am old and failing in vigor," said Chiun. "I do not believe I understood your words."

"I said, 'The cherry blossoms are in bloom,' " repeated Smith in a louder voice.

"Ah," said Chiun. "I understand now. You wish me to eliminate Remo, as per our agreement. Unfortunately, I cannot do that. Remo is about to become the reigning Master of Sinanju-"

"Maybe," added Remo. "If we can work out the details."

"-and it is forbidden for one Master to kill another," finished Chiun.

"But Remo isn't reigning Master yet," insisted Smith.

"True," said Chiun, his fingernails fluttering in the air. "But he has agreed to support my village. That makes him of my village, and Masters are forbidden to harm fellow villagers. I am sorry, but the Remo you gave me to train no longer exists. In his place stands this Remo, who is no longer the flabby meat-eater of our first meeting, but one in Sinanju. I cannot kill him."

"See?" Remo said smugly. "I told you."

"If there is someone else you would like me to kill, I will be glad to consider it," said Chiun.

"I see," said Smith. "Very well. I must tell you that the Russians have discovered my operation."

"Good for them," said Chiun, returning to his scrolls.

"The organization is to be disbanded. We've agreed to turn you and Remo over to the Soviets in return for their silence."

Chiun paused, and carefully placed his goose quill back in its inkstone.

"Masters of Sinanju are not slaves," he said gravely. "To be bartered like chattel."

"The Soviets will be here by sunset to take control of the village."

"You sold us out!" yelled Remo. "You sold me out! You sold my village out!"

And Chiun smiled at that last.

"We had no choice," Smith said imperturbably.

"We'll fight," said Remo.

Chiun held up a commanding hand.

"Hold!" he said. "Emperor Smith, am I to understand that you have sold our contract to the Russian bear?"

"Ah, I don't ... If you put it that way, yes."

"The contract of the House of Smith," said Chiun solemnly, "binds my house to do your bidding. To do what you wish, there must be a formal signing over of the contract. Are you prepared to do this?"

"Yes," said Smith.

"Chiun, what are you saying? We can't work for the Russians."

"No," said Chiun. "You cannot work for the Russians. You must stay here and take my place. I must go to Russia and fulfill my last contract. It is my duty."

"I thought you said we were through with Smith."

"We are,"' said Chiun blandly. "Has not Emperor Smith himself just proclaimed it so?"

"That's right. I did," said Smith.

"You keep out of this," Remo snapped.

"But Emperor Smith's contract is still in force. I cannot die with an unfulfilled contract in my name. My ancestors, when I meet them in the Void, would shun me for eternity."

"I can't believe you're saying this, both of you," Remo cried.

Chiun clapped his hands imperiously.

"I grow weary. Leave me, both of you. We will assemble in the square when the Russians arrive. For now, I am an old man and I wish to enjoy in relative peace my final moments in the house of my ancestors."

"Come on, Smitty," Remo growled. And Remo yanked Smith out the door.

"Don't think badly of me, Remo," Smith said when they were outside. "We all understood it might come to this when we joined CURE."

"I didn't join, remember? I was hijacked."

"Uh, yes," said Smith uncomfortably.

"Things were bad enough until you came along," Remo complained. "Couldn't you let him die in peace?"

"You know the position I'm in," said Smith, dropping to his knees. He opened his briefcase. "You once believed in America."

"I still do," Remo said. "But things are different. I've found what I've been looking for here. What are you doing?"

"Taking care of unfinished business," said Smith, booting up the mini-computer. When the screen was illuminated, he keyed in a sequence of numbers and hooked the phone into the modem.

Remo watched as the words "ACCESS CODE REQUIRED" filled the screen.

In the space below, Smith typed the code word "IRMA."

The words "ACCESS DENIED" appeared on the screen.