"No, you're not," a second voice said. A firmer voice.
"Smith," the President said huskily, "I'm not alone. This is exactly why I wanted your people here."
From behind the standing flag of the United States, a figure emerged. The President blinked. He was a thin, youngish man with deep-set eyes. He was dressed casually. A second man-he stepped from behind the presidential flag-was anything but casually dressed. His kimono was the color of a Chinese firecracker. Two tigers rampant were stitched in black and gold threads on the front. It seemed incredible that either of them could have hidden unseen behind the standing flags, but the evidence was before him.
"I was mistaken," the President said. "They are here."
"Let me speak with them," Smith requested.
"Here," the President said. Remo took the phone and began speaking quietly.
The Oriental man regarded the President with wise eyes. He bowed.
"And how have you been?" the President asked. "Chiun, isn't it?"
"I am well," Chiun said with formal stiffness. "I trust you are happy now that you have ascended the Eagle Throne."
"The what? Oh, yes. Of course. I worked very hard to attain this office. I just didn't expect this rough a time of it so soon."
"Leadership brings many burdens," intoned Chiun. "Fortunately, Remo and I are here to lighten some of them."
"I wish you could do something about the press."
"Don't give him ideas," Remo said suddenly, clapping a hand over the red phone.
"You need only whisper their names in my ear and your enemies will become as the dust on your boots," Chiun offered.
"I think you're thinking of the last President. I don't wear boots. But the press isn't the problem. It's the source of these attacks. If only we knew which nation was behind them."
"As I told Smith, it is very simple," Chiun said. "Look for a jealous prince."
"The Vice-President?"
"Is he your mortal enemy?"
"Not at all. And to the best of my knowledge I don't have any enemies-mortal or otherwise."
"All heads of state have enemies. Allow us to seek out these secret plotters. We will mount their heads on the White House fence. If we get the correct enemy, your problem will be solved. If not, mounted heads make an excellent warning to unsuspected pretenders to a throne."
"I don't think that will work."
"Then we will await the next attack." Chiun turned to Remo and caught his eye.
"I just told Smith we looked at the craters and couldn't figure out a thing," Remo said.
"Naturally, we are assassins. Not detectives."
"Let me have that phone," the President said. "Smith? The KKV's were hauled off for analysis. You and your people don't have to worry about them. Find the launch site. That's the key."
"It would help if I had an idea of the projectiles."
The President hesitated. "All I can tell you, Smith, is that they are multi-ton wheeled vehicles. So far they have not been armed in any conventional way."
"That's not really much to go on," Smith began.
"I don't want you working on that end of it. The KKV's are the Pentagon's worry. Find the launch site. Got that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Now, that item I discussed with you has been shipped to your warehouse drop. It should make a tremendous difference in your search ability."
"But, Mr. President, I reiterate that my system is sufficient for CURE operations."
"This one will work better. It can handle multiple tasks simultaneously. Language translation will no longer be a barrier."
"There's still the sheer mass of data to be sorted. I couldn't possibly handle it all."
"You won't have to, Smith. This computer thinks for itself. It will do a lot of your work for you. And I've taken the liberty of ordering some additional upgrades for the rest of your operation."
"Upgrades?"
"For one thing, this phone has to go. You should see how I had to rig it so that I can get my hands on it no matter what happens."
"Sir, this line has been inviolate for over twenty years. You can't-"
"I can and I did. I wish everyone would stop trying to override me. Now, about that computer. It comes with an installer. I'll leave the security problems of installation to you. "
"But, sir, I-"
"No buts. I'm tired of buts. I want action. Your people will remain here until you come up with answers. It had better be soon, Smith. The media are trying to whip the public into a frenzy."
"I know, Mr. President," Smith said, hanging up. The President turned to Remo and Chiun.
"Now, I'm going to ask you to fade into the woodwork again," he said. "I have much to do."
"Do not fear," promised the Master of Sinanju, bowing. "The KKK threat will not harm a hair on your regal head."
"KKK? What does the Ku Klux Klan have to do with this?"
"Nothing," Remo said swiftly. "Don't mind him. He means KKV."
"They are even less of a problem," Chiun insisted. Remo rolled his eyes. The President sighed. It seemed that Smith's operation needed patching up in more than just its equipment.
Chapter 17
Chip Craft had installed a lot of computers in his time. In his work for Excelsior Systems, he had been involved in numerous high-security installations and had a top security clearance with the Defense Department. He prided himself on being considered above reproach.
So why were they treating him like this?
It had begun with instructions from his superior to wait at a deserted warehouse in Trenton until he was contacted. He waited for hours, clutching his tool-packed briefcase. A voice as dry as week-old graham crackers spoke from behind him and ordered, "Do not turn around, please."
"who ...?"
"I am your contact. Assuming you are the man I am expecting."
"Chip Craft. Excelsior."
"Good. I am going to blindfold you, Mr. Craft."
"That's really not necessary. I have Department of Defense clearance. I can dig it out of my wallet."
"Not necessary."
"Good."
"DOD credentials are meaningless to me."
Chip Craft shrugged. "If you say so." The blindfold went over his eyes and tightened expertly. "Now what?"
"You will be driven to a location where you are going to install the ES Quantum Three Thousand."
"Oh? I didn't know that anyone had put in a bid yet."
"Never mind," said the dry voice. A hand took him by the elbow. "Come with me."
Chip Craft felt himself taken to a car and placed in the back seat. The car interior smelled old. Odd. Usually official cars smelled new.
The drive was several hours in length. Neither Chip nor the driver spoke during the trip. When the car finally came to a halt, Chip was taken into a building and up on an elevator. Then he was led a short distance and the man let go of his elbow. He heard a door close behind him.
"You may remove the bliqdfold now."
When he had removed the blindfold, Chip Craft saw that he was in a shabby office. Fluorescent lights filled the room with shaky illumination. There was only one window, but it was curtained. It was a big window and took up most of one wall behind a splintery oak desk. A man sat behind the desk. He wore a gray three-piece suit and a school tie that Chip did not recognize. Chip did not recognize the man either. The man wore an ordinary paper bag over his head. There were two ragged eyeholes punched in the bag and a pair of studious-looking rimless eyeglasses were fitted over them. The stems disappeared into two tears on either side of the bag.
"Is this some kind of a joke?" Chip demanded.
"Security," said the man. He sat with his hands folded.
"This is a joke, right? Damn! I should have suspected something. I knew the ES Quantum hadn't been put up for bid. Now, come on, who are you? Schwartz? Anderson? Infantino?"
"I am none of those people. And you are in a highly secret U.S. installation. Your job is to install the system as quickly as possible. Our country's future may depend upon it."