In the weeks they had been working together, they had not come to understand each other any better but they had learned substantial mutual respect. Each knew the other was a professional.
Sorkofsky was anxious for Bechenbauer to arrive so they could discuss the new note and how to guard against its threat.
Despite what Sorkofsky thought of Bechenbauer's morals, the West German missed his wife very much. In fact, when the telephone summons came from Sorkofsky, the Ferret was reading a letter from his wife. There was a lovely young blonde woman in the bed with him while he was reading it. She was nuzzling his neck and reading over his shoulder.
"She truly misses you," the woman remarked.
The German smiled. "As I miss her and my children. It will not be much longer."
At that point, there was a knock on the hotel room door. Bechenbauer donned his dressing gown and opened the door to the military messenger who was carrying the summons from Sorkofsky.
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"The colonel would like you to come to his office at once, sir. He said it was very urgent."
"Thank you, soldier."
The soldier stood there a second too long, his eyes looking past Bechenbauer at the blonde on the bed, who stretched her arms over her head, causing the sheet to slide down and bare her breasts.
Reluctantly, the soldier looked away, saluted Bechenbauer and turned to the door.
"Soldier?" Bechenbauer said.
"Sir?"
"It would not be wise of you to speak of the young lady's presence. Her husband might object. Do you understand?"
The soldier nodded and grinned. "Perfectly, sir. Have no fear."
When he left, Bechenbauer smiled. He knew that in minutes Colonel Sorkofsky would know that there was a blonde in the German's bed. There was no surer way of getting a Russian to carry a message than to ask him not to. They all feared they would be implicated in a spy plot unless they told everything they knew. And it gave the German pleasure to tease the Rhino. Who knew? Before this assignment was over, he might even have brought the big Russian colonel back down to earth, to life as a man.
He went back to the bed, kissed the blonde and ran a finger down her bare breasts, causing her to shiver.
"You were teasing the boy," he scolded.
She reached inside Ms dressing gown and said "It will give him character." He pulled away from her and said, "I have all the character I need. And duty calls."
She lay in bed watching him as he dressed rapidly.
When he was ready to leave, he asked, "Will you wait?"
"Of course. Where would I go?"
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He kissed her goodbye and said, "I will miss you when I return to Germany, liebchen."
She kissed him back and said ominously, "We will worry about that another time."
He thought of her on the limousine ride to Sorkofsky's office. She had been a pleasant diversion for him, but he hoped she would not become difficult when it was tune for him to leave. He did very much miss his wife.
Sorkofsky was sitting behind his desk in the small office inside the Olympic village when Bechenbauer arrived.
"Your messenger said it was urgent."
"Look at this," the Russian said, handing the note across the desk.
Bechenbauer sat back and read the brief note. Sorkofsky had memorized it and repeated it in his mind. "In the name of Southern Africans for Athletic Equality, we demand the cancellation of the Olympic games. If they are not cancelled, every American athlete will die. To convince you, there will be a show of power on the same day you receive this note. Long live free Rhodesia and South Africa."
"A show of power," Bechenbauer repeated, handing the note back. "Our security is very tight."
"It may be tight only in our minds," the Russian said.
"Why do you say that?"
Sorkofsky ran his hands over his face, dry-washing it, before answering. He felt drained. His younger daughter had run a fever the night before, and he had sat up all night watching her. She was fine this morning, but he had not slept at all and was beginning to feel it.
"There are just too many people from too many countries," he said. "There is no way we can be sure. People are wandering all over the place." He waved at a pile of reports on his desk, then on impulse
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snatched the first one. "Here. Two Americans wandering around Moscow. Found in a restaurant by soldiers."
"Spies, no doubt," Bechenbauer said. "We knew enough to expect that. But they are not our terrorists." His curiosity was piqued anyway. "Who were they?"
"An American runner named Remo Black. Here is his picture. Very mean looking. The woman is named Littlefeather, something from a cowboy movie, I gather. She is a gymnast. They said they had gotten lost. They gave false names." He replaced the report on the pile. "They are not unusual. There are many like that. I'm worried about this." He pointed to the note from the S.A.A.E.
"A show of power," Bechenbauer repeated. "I wonder what that means."
The West German's face was grave and Sorkosfky knew he was reliving the horrors of Munich.
"Perhaps we will be lucky and not find out," the Rhino said.
The show of power was an explosion.
It was set off in a refreshment stand inside the village, early in the day, when there were no athletes nearby.
Jack Mullin, in Moscow as the director of the Baruban team, thought it best that no one be hurt by this blast. The way to create horror was insidiously, slowly, step by slow step, and deaths too early would work against his plan.
Mullin had one of his bogus Baruban athletes buy a soft drink at the stand and leave, conveniently forgetting his equipment bag. Mullin watched from a safe distance and when there was no one near the stand, he triggered the explosives with a small sending unit in his pocket. Then he walked away.
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Remo and Chiun heard the explosion. They were in the stands of the stadium watching other runners practicing, getting the feel of the artificial cindered track that skirted the large field.
"An explosion," Remo said.
"You go," Chiun said. "I'm not interested." He had been sulking since Remo had carefully explained to him that he just simply could not disable all the athletes of the world so Remo could win all the gold medals.
"You'd better be interested," Remo said.
"I'm interested only in your gold medal, nothing else."
"Right. Because you want to get the credit and go on television and do commercials, right?"
"Something like that?"
"Well, Chiun, I'll tell you. If any athletes are killed here, the only television or press coverage is going to be of the killing. I won't even get my name in the paper. I won't be interviewed. I won't be anything, and that means you get nothing. So you'd better be interested."
"Why didn't you say so?" Chiun said. "Why are we sitting here wasting time talking?" He stood up and seemed to sniff the air like a bloodhound. "This way," he said and ran off toward the explosion.
The radio monitor on Sorkofsky's desk crackled, just as the Russian colonel and Bechenbauer were moving toward the door to investigate the sound of the explosion.
The report from one of the village security guards pinpointed the explosion at a refreshment stand.
"Anyone killed or hurt?" Sorkofsky asked over the radio.
"Unknown at this time, sir," the voice answered.
Sorkofsky and Bechenbauer ran from the office.
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Remo and Chiun brushed by the guards, who were trying to organize themselves without a commanding officer, and they had four minutes to pooch around in the rubble of the refreshment stand before they were ordered to leave.
The four minutes was enough.
Chiun picked up a small piece of heavy woven fabric from under the wood that had been the counter. He handed it to Remo who fingered it and said, "Probably an equipment bag."