Brick Walters had every right in the world to stay right where he was, but he didn’t press the point. He wasn’t the kind of guy to cause trouble.
The rest area was vacant of nonmilitary personnel in a matter of minutes, and the soldiers returned to their vehicles. The gleaming silver RV hybrid slowed considerably and took the ramp, parking in Brick Walters’s truck slot. The line of Army Hummers closed the gap, blocking the ramp, and half the fleet of the New Mexico State Police screeched to a halt.
“What do you mean, federal jurisdiction?” one of the troopers shouted. “This is New Mexico State and we’re state law enforcement!”
More Army arrived on the scene, in Apache attack helicopters. Two monster troop transport helicopters loomed over the earth and disengaged more and more military.
“You’re on national TV” the Army commander said quietly to the belligerent trooper. “You don’t want to get cuffed by a military MP on national TV. You’d never live it down.”
That argument made good sense. The troopers left the scene, but they made a lot of racket with their sirens, just to show those lousy Army types how they felt about it.
“Science Officer Samuels, can you give us a lift?” Remo asked of the airman, who was standing at attention in the media room.
“Yes, sir. Where to, sir?”
“Michigan,” Remo said.
Samuels was a man who erred on the side of caution. He didn’t know who exactly he was dealing with. This pair had just been freed from the state of New Mexico by substantial troop mobilization ordered by a general working with the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Whoever these two guys were, Samuels wasn’t going to get on their bad side.
“Yes, sir. We’ll get you to Michigan, sir.”
Chiun was beaming.
“The meditation chamber must be working. You look marvelous,” Remo said, feeling chipper.
“All this bluster arranged in our honor is invigorating,” Chiun said.
Remo didn’t know if Smith’s grandiose intervention had been done in their honor, but he said nothing. He shouldered Chiun’s chests and they emerged from the RV into a maelstrom of light and sound. The fleet of state troopers was departing angrily, sirens whooping and lights blazing. A gnat-like swarm of media choppers was buzzing away far over the fallow fields with two Apaches urging them along, and all around them was the diesel rumble of Hummers and the blowing chop of hovering helicopters. The soldiers formed a defense ring around the rest area, but Remo could feel their curious eyes glancing at himself and Chiun.
“Such attention. It is a pity that a Master of Sinanju must move heaven and earth to earn an exhibition of respect.”
“Yeah,” Remo agreed.
“I was speaking of you, my son,” Chiun added.
“I know,” Remo said.
“Do not let it swell your head.”
“I won’t, Little Father. My white head is hideously oversized already.”
“You said this, not I”
Airman Samuels ushered them to a Huey with a dull, camouflage-green paint job. Chiun halted.
“I would prefer that one.” He pointed to a gleaming new troop transport behemoth that sat in the sky above them, beating the air into submission with twin giant rotors.
Samuels bit his lip. “I’ll arrange it.”
“We may as well make the most of it,” Remo said.
When they boarded the troop transport, Chiun declared, “You shall allow no damage to come to my home.”
“That’s what we’re here for, sir,” Airman Samuels assured him.
The helicopter whirred away with just two passengers in its cavernous belly.
“Emperor Smith agreed to discuss a new contract?” Chiun asked.
‘Yes. You want round-the-clock military escort as a part of the compensation package?”
“I suppose it would become tedious eventually.”
“Right.”
“And the Emperor would balk.”
“I’m sure he would.”
“And you intend to negotiate this contract, Remo Williams?”
“I am Reigning Master.”
Chiun nodded and said no more about it, for the time being.
Chapter 38
Olaf Dasheway felt his world crumble down-around him. He was on the phone with the man who held the keys to his future—and Romeo Dodd was resigning.
“You can’t do this,” he stuttered.
“Read the terms of our agreement. Remember my waiver?”
“No.” Dasheway tossed papers off his desk until he unearthed a copy of the Romeo Dodd contract. Oh, yes. The waiver. “Uh, let’s see. ‘If the previous employer of the undersigned Talent submits an offer of reemployment and Talent accepts this other employment prior to the broadcast of the aforementioned program The Ladies’ Man, Talent will be absolved of all obligations and will forfeit all agreed-upon compensation.’ I didn’t sign this! Production companies and their broadcast licensees agree to surrender all existing physical copies and destroy all electronic copies of the aforementioned program The Ladies’ Man that have heretofore been produced. No way! TMs is so nonstandard.”
“You signed it”
“But, Romeo, you said you had a government job. Nobody goes back to a government job.”
“I did. I’m officially a federal employee again.”
“You’d rather be a civil servant than bagging hot babes and being the envy of all men everywhere?”
“The Hollywood lifestyle was too wild for me.”
“You weren’t here two days—give the place a chance.”
“Sorry, Olaf.”
“You can’t! I won’t abide by these terms!”
“Now, don’t say anything stupid,” Romeo Dodd warned Dasheway. “The federals don’t want me on TV, and they’ll make sure I’m not on TV.”
Olaf Dasheway was rummaging noisily in his desk. “Olaf, what are you doing?”
“Looking for scissors. A box cutter. Anything that will slice through wrist skin.”
Romeo Dodd tsked. “Hold that suicide, Olaf. I have an offer to make. I know of a way to work this so The Ladies’ Man will go on the air, as scheduled.”
“In God’s name, tell me how!” Dasheway blurted.
“This is what you do. You take my face out and put somebody else’s face in. You can do that with computers, right?”
“Yes!”
“You can do that before tonight’s broadcast?”
“Yes, if we start right away!” Dasheway cried joyfully.
“You get somebody to be the face of The Ladies’ Man tonight, and maybe even let him continue the series. Nobody would have to know there was ever a switch—not even the networks.”
“Yes. Perfect. You’ll agree to that, nice and legal? Sign a confidentiality agreement?”
“Sure, I will.”
Olaf Dasheway had never been on such an emotional roller coaster. Romeo bowing out was bad news, but the first episode was in the can. It would be a tremendous hit, no matter whose face was on the screen, and the networks had already committed to a full season.
“The question is,” Romeo said, “Olaf, can you come up with a replacement right away?”
Olaf shot to his feet and ran out of his office, phone to his ear. A rumpled, dejected-looking man was sprawled in the waiting room. “He’s already here.”
“Great news.”
As soon as Romeo was off the phone, Dasheway hit the speed dial. “I want Philstock. Philstock? Drop whatever you’re doing and meet me at production in ten minutes. Bring a computer geek—the best you’ve got but he’s gotta be able to keep his mouth shut. I’ll explain when I get there. Yes, it’s an emergency!”
Olaf barged out of his office. The sad, disheveled wreck in the waiting area glared at Him, like a beaten dog expecting to be whacked with a newspaper again.