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him. "You extract nothing," Remo taunted. "Your people always cowards and
attacking at night from behind, turning rats on the man ever to take on
them." The assassin stopped again. "Pity-" called. "The Wa need no ancestor,
the Master Sinanju, took pity on centuries ago," Remo "As he did, so will
not. When we meet, you die." A chill ran down the assassin's
when he heard "Master Sinanju." Surely that had been nothing more family
legend. But would this... this white know of it- "Who you-" he called. "I am
Master of peanut," Remo called. And he forced his inward, until his rage had
spent, and slowly pronounced the words he spoken so often am created Shiva,
the Destroyer; the shatterer of worlds; dead night tiger made whole the
Master of Sinanju. Flee, meat, for when we meet, there
be no flight for you." The assassin paused. was not moving. His voice came
from the same in his art and in tradition and family almost him to return,
to down this prideful white man the overactive imagination. Master of
indeed- The Wa would teach him of of Sinanju. "When we meet the assassin
called, "I will have time you. It will be pleasure." He turned and moved
softly away through woods, and behind him heard Remo's laugh over the wide
river. And in that prideful
welling out of his like the pulsing of the in his veins, Remo felt at and
at peace with his that generation after of assassins who had refined the
magic Sinanju and handed it down through ages as their legacy to him. He and
looked back at Muckley's body. "That's the sweetheart," he said coldly. "But
don't worry. meet him, I'm canceling return ticket." * * As soon as entered
the room, Chiun have met the Wa," said. Remo nodded. "He got
Remo said. "He his calling card." Remo held the red-leather knife toward
Chiun, just Theodosia burst into room. "I just heard on the television," she
"Muckley's dead. Knifed." She saw the in Remo's hand and uttered muffled
eyes fixed on him, questions, which Remo did not answer. Chiun took knife
and looked at engraved horse on the Hade. "You you were just to talk to
him," Theodosia told accusingly. "Easy," he said. "I didn't him." "On
television, they're blaming Wesley and people. That means you. Us. All
us." "They can blame who they Remo said. "He was dead got there." Theodosia
but it was not convincing statement of either could speak, the telephone
rang from the first syllable, recognized the annoyed voice Harold W. Smith.
"I didn't do it," he listened while, then said, "We'll keep alive." He hung
up, without any pretense cordial goodbye. "Who was that-" Theodosia junior
high school gym teacher,"
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