Wylings was taking his leave of the colonial governor of New Jersey, posing for the camera so the reporters could see that this was a legitimate visit between two legitimate statesmen. Perception was everything, and it was imperative that the world understand fully that the newly reconquered colonies were now irrefutably a part of the British Empire.
The governor of New Jersey had welcomed him as a fellow knight, as a high, influential member of the British government and as a supporter of the empire movement. Maybe the governor even suspected that Wylings was the one behind it all—the mastermind— but they never discussed it openly. Their conversations were limited to organizing the new trade coalitions between New Jersey Colony and England.
As he entered his limo, Wylings turned on the news and received the shock of his life. In a matter of hours, two of his established colonies had been knocked over. Ayounde had fallen when, according to reporters, there was a rebellion by the mercenaries who had helped Sir Michele Rilli conquer Ayounde. A call for help had been overheard during the fighting. Later, the ministers and prime minister managed to break their way out of a holding cell in the basement of Government House and had only then learned of the devastation that had befallen their largest city.
Minutes ago, another catastrophe. Sir Sheldon Jahn was dead and the financial ministry in Hong Kong was back in the hands of the People’s Republic of China.
Devastating losses. Ayounde had petroleum resources worth billions. Hong Kong, serving as the financial powerhouse behind the People’s Republic of China, would have channeled billions more into the coffers of the British Empire.
Something was happening. The scheme was discovered. Maybe Wylings himself had been identified. It was time to accelerate the schedule and it was time to turn the screws on Her Majesty the queen. Wylings would force the British government to come to its senses.
James Wylings knew how to make that happen. As with everything else, his scheme was already mapped out. The tools he needed were in place. He held the power of life and death over the heart and soul of the British Empire. London. Soon the British Empire would be acting according to his wishes—or London would be a vast and silent graveyard, full of rotting corpses.
The main city of Ayounde was just three thousand people. London’s population was considerably larger.
Aboard his private aircraft, bound for London, Sir James Wylings placed a phone call to a very private number.
“Sir James Wylings calling. May I speak to Her Majesty at once, please? Oh, yes, the matter is quite important.”
Mark Howard knew that royal marriages were often arranged for reasons that had nothing to do with love or romance, even in the enlightened twenty-first century. Still, this had to be one of the least-romantic marriage proposals ever.
“James Wylings is threatening to annihilate half the population of London if he doesn’t get what he wants,” he reported from his computer screen. The speakers, hidden in the desk, connected their conference call to the chartered Learjet, which was now transporting the Masters of Sinanju away from Hong Kong. “Wylings called the queen of England personally. Get this—his conditions are that she marries him, immediately.”
“Hold on a second,” Remo said.
Mark Howard and Harold Smith heard Chiun and Remo conversing in Korean. It was difficult to read their emotions in the language, so unlike American English. Still, Mark thought Chiun sounded tense.
“Didn’t take him long to figure out we were on to him,” Remo complained. “What’s he trying to accomplish?”
“He’s to be crowned king of England during the same ceremony,” Mark said.
A burst of noise cut off further explanation. Mark Howard and Harold Smith looked at one another across the office. It sounded as if somebody was breaking up the furniture. Strangely enough, it sounded as if Chiun was doing the breaking.
Remo said, “He can’t
“He is doing it,” Harold Smith said. “He more or less came right out and admitted he was responsible for the genocide in Ayounde. Who’s going to argue with him?”
“Emperor Smith,” Chiun asked, “do you mean to say that Her Majesty will bow to his vile wishes?”
“She did not state her intent. When she received the call she was understandably, er, shaken,” Smith said. “Wylings informed her that he is en route to London and will proceed from the airport directly to Buckingham Palace. He intends to force the issue without delay.”
“She’ll go along with it,” Mark Howard added. “That’s just my gut feeling, but she’ll marry the son of a bitch and name him king of England if it means sparing her city.”
“Yes. She will do this.” Chiun sounded tense. “How could she not?”
