Warren Murphy: Look Into My Eyes

"Yes," was the answer to all that was. All that was good was yes. All being was the great yes of the universe. And Remo saw the Great Wang laughing at him, and in the cleanest strokes of the history of Sinanju, Remo did as his little father taught him, bringing the blow from the very breathing itself, and severed the head of the Great Wang laughing at him.

When Vassily Rabinowitz' head rolled on the ballroom floor people screamed in horror. Remo's eyes cleared. His body ached where he had hurled it down, shattering parquet flooring into splinters.

He had performed a perfect blow. There was not a drop of blood on his hand. It had been in and out of Rabinowitz' vertebrae at the precise speed to sever with both heat and force. In fact, it was only now that the heart muscle of the headless corpse on the floor finished its last pumping action, creating a dark red pool where the head containing the sad brown eyes had been.

"Who are you?" asked a stunned broadcaster.

Remo didn't answer questions. He went upstairs and following wire circuitry to its source found Smith behind a computer terminal.

Smith was tired and confused. "Remo. Where are we?"

"Fifth Avenue. Rabinowitz' duplex."

"Strange. Last thing I remember is preparing to kill him. What's this on the computer screen?" Smith shook his head. "Oh no. Have they gone off yet?"

"Have what gone off?" asked Remo.

"You would have known if they did. I hot-wired our whole nuclear-defense establishment. Has the President been here?"

"No. I turned him back," said Remo.

"Good. I see. Yes. Right. Let me close this down before we all go up. Where's Rabinowitz?"

"Part of him is in the ballroom and another part, I think, has rolled into another room. I'm not sure."

"Thank you. We needed you and you did your job. You can go now, Remo."

"Here's as good as anywhere," said Remo. "I'm an American. I believe in this country."

"You mean you've veered away from Sinanju philosophy?"

"No. It is Sinanju philosophy. Here is good. I'm here. Yes. I'll stay."

"Did Rabinowitz find out about CURE?"

"You not only told him about it, you put it at his service. "

Smith groaned. "Anyone else?" he asked.

"There's a Russian lady who knows."

"She's got to go."

"I think she's a good person."

"I'm not judging anyone. I'm trying to save the country."

"I don't think there'll be any harm to her knowing. Talk to her."

"Is she good-looking?"

"She's stunning, Smitty."

"I thought so," said Smith suspiciously.

"She's got brains."

"Even more reason to terminate her."

"Talk to her."

Anna Chutesov was still cradling Chiun's head in her hands when Remo helped them both out of the elevator, carrying Chiun in his arms.

He hated himself for the blow he had delivered to Chiun, and yet if he had not, he would have been in pieces like Rabinowitz.

"Remo says I should talk to you," said Smith to Anna. "I'm afraid you understand why we must terminate you. You know about us."

"Typical stupid male response. If you don't know what to do, kill. Gorilla."

"We can't be compromised," said Smith.

"Why would I want to compromise you?"

"To take over our country. Weaken America."

"Why on earth would I want to do that? Do you think we don't have enough troubles in Russia? Do you think we need two countries to mismanage instead of one?"

"That hasn't stopped you from taking Eastern Europe and trying to do the same thing in Afghanistan," said Smith.

"Men. We are lucky to have you as an enemy. Now we have someone to wage some kinds of war against. Do you know why we fight wars? Because that's what we've always done. Do you know why we have yet to build successful socialism?"

Smith shook his head.

"Because no one has done it. And I'll tell you what you have done, jerk. In defeating us so handily in Sornica, you now have all our idiot generals planning revenge just like after the Cuban missile crisis. Little boys' egos are now at work, bankrupting my country and endangering yours. If you wish to kill me, go ahead. I can't stop you. It's what morons do. You can kill someone, so go ahead and do it."

"But how can we be sure we will not be compromised?"

"Because I may want to call on you someday, jerk, and you may want to call on me. There, you have it. An ally for peace or a corpse. Take your choice. Since you are a man, I assume I am dead."

"No one has ever called me a moron," said Smith.

"I bet Miss Ashford did," said Anna.

"How do you know about her?" asked Smith.

"You were taking her orders down in Sornica."

Smith sighed.

"All right. We'll take a chance."

"No choice anyway, Smitty. I'm not doing it," said Remo. "And neither will Chiun. You want to kill Anna, you'll have to figure out a way yourself, and probably over my dead body. Which means you won't."

Remo smiled at Anna.

"I'm thinking of giving you a crack at more than a wrist," he said.

"If you didn't come to me, I think I'd start an atomic war to get you," said Anna. Her voice was soft and low.

"Really?" said Remo, and Anna threw back her head and laughed.

"Only a man would believe something so stupid," she said, blowing him a kiss. "What egos you all have. It's a wonder we haven't been blown up yet."

Remo took Chiun out into the fresh air of Central Park beneath the late Vassily Rabinowitz' apartment. The lights of the city glowed around them. Remo worked Chiun's spine to get the nervous system working toward healing itself.

"Where am I?" asked Chiun.

"Just came out of hypnotism. You locked eyes with the late Vassily Rabinowitz."

"Did I do anything embarrassing?" asked Chiun, rubbing his chest where Remo had stopped his blow from going further.

"No. Never, little father," said Remo.

"Did someone land a blow on me?" asked Chiun, horrified.

"No, little father. No one could do that," said Remo.

"Then how did I get this contusion?" asked Chiun.

"I think Vassily hypnotized you into fighting yourself, little father."

"Really?" asked Chiun. "And who won?"

"You, of course, little father. No one can beat you," said Remo, and he felt in the night all around them the great yes of the universe. It was love.