Remo was there, inches away from the nose of Harold W. Smith, and he had a fire in his eyes that was like the rage of an old and powerful Korean, but there was a smoldering glow of fire red that lingered behind the veil of humanity. “Old man, you don’t want to know the alternative.”
Harold Smith felt as if the blood were boiling in his brain, furious and afraid. He had been plenty angry with Remo, more times than he could count, but he had never been quite so afraid.
“Besides, what they know isn’t enough to do anybody any good,” Remo was saying when Smith focused again on his office and found everything back to a state of uncomfortable normalcy. “You’re looking for a problem where there isn’t one.”
Smith considered this long and hard, and filed the subject away for further consideration. “Then shall we return to a more insistent problem?”
“I think we’ve done enough for one day, don’t you?”
“The problem of a lack of a chain of command in the CURE Hierarchy,” Smith continued, not flustered.
“Right. The problem is, I’m not part of the chain of command,” Remo said. “More like the bucket at the end of the chain. You say, ‘Remo, go kill this guy,’ and I’m supposed to just do it. Like I’m nothing more than hired muscle.”
“You are a hired assassin,” Chiun clarified.
“I’m a grunt. I’m a doer, not a thinker, right?”
“It is a role in which you excel, my son,” Chiun assured him.
“Okay, maybe, but I’m not quite as yak-stupid as you think I am, Little Father.”
Chiun considered how to respond, but Remo didn’t give him time. “Sometimes, I know what to do when other people don’t know what to do. Maybe, every once in a while, I have good judgment. Amazing, but true!”
Smith considered this carefully. Mark Howard looked like a kid at a dogfight, waiting to see who ripped whose ear off first.
“You think I’m full of beans?” Remo demanded of Smith. “I was right about Whiteslaw, wasn’t I? We should have nailed his sleazy ass to the wall when we had the chance. Think of all the crap that wouldn’t have happened.”
“The responsibility rests with me,” Smith said.
“The fact is, we should have done what I thought we should have done.”
“The fact is, you do whatever you please anyway,” Smith said. “You need to fall in line. That means, follow directions, maintain contact with myself and Mark. You need to carry a phone.”
“You need to get real.”
“You are failing to fulfill your contract, Master of Sinanju.”
‘Yeah, okay, let’s talk about that,” Remo said, and then he reached for his back pocket and pulled out a thick, folded wad of parchment. He flicked open the contract and said, “I’ve been reading this over—”
“Remo! What are you doing with that?” Chiun demanded.
“It’s my contract.”
“It is my contract, ignoramus! You had nothing to do with it!”
“Well, maybe I had nothing to do with figuring it out, but it’s all about me, isn’t it? Don’t you think it is fair that I get to see it?”
“You have no understanding of such things,” Chiun spluttered. “I doubt you can make any sense of it whatsoever.”
Remo shrugged. “Won’t argue with you there. I can’t make heads or tails of it.”
“So what is your point?” Smith said.
“Somebody needs to explain it to me. You know I actually found an ‘ipso facto’ in here? I thought ‘ipso facto’ was a made-up word, like ‘McNuggetts.’ I don’t know what ipso facto means. Chiun does. Problem is, he doesn’t have the patience to explain it to me.”
“Because you have not the wits to comprehend it!” Chiun said, stamping his foot and growing red-faced.
“And if he stamps his foot about explaining one little word, imagine how mad he’d get if I ask him to explain all the words.” Remo was ignoring Chiun for the moment. He had already earned months of penance for this little scene, but he was committed to going whole hog. “Now, I could ask you or Junior to explain it, but I can’t trust you guys to give me the straight dope. You’re the party of the other side. So what I need is a lawyer.”
“You will stop these childish games!” Chiun squeaked.
“This is perfectly legitimate. See, in this country you’re allowed to have a lawyer to help you understand any contract you’re a part of. So, I’ll get a lawyer and have him sort out this gobbledygook.”
“That would clearly violate CURE security,” Smith said in exasperation.
“Lawyers don’t violate their customers’ privilege,” Remo insisted. “CURE secrets would be safe.”
Smith fumed. “For the sake of argument, what then? You would condemn this lawyer to death once his work was finished. CURE could not allow yet another security breach—”
“I’d keep him under retainer indefinitely,” Remo said.
“And that would be intolerable,” Smith responded quietly.
“Oh.” Remo said, nodded and stood up. “Then I quit.”
“Remo Williams, you will not break the sanctity of a contract signed by a Sinanju Master,” Chiun declared.
“Hey, if they deny me legal representation in regards to the contract then they can’t enforce it. The contract is void. They can’t even sue me because then they’d have to let me get a lawyer.”
