Remo looked at him suspiciously. He knew that Chiun generally thought that Smith was a lunatic because Smith resisted all Chiun's offers to eliminate the president of the United States and make Smith ruler-for-life.

And then Remo understood.

"Don't let him soft-soap you, Smitty. He wants to get over to Moscow for the Olympics so he can win a gold medal and go on television and get rich doing endorsements."

"Chiun?" Smith asked, leaning back and looking at the frail, aged Korean.

"Why not?" Remo asked. "He can win any event he enters. All of them, for that matter. So can I."

"For once you speak the truth, housefly," Chiun said. "He is right, Emperor."

"Well, Remo, you'll get a chance to prove it," Smith said. "The people in Moscow are being just about what you'd expect. Stubborn. They don't want any American security people in Russia. They figure they'll be CIA agents spying on them."

"We could send the whole CIA and they'd be lucky to find the Olympic Stadium," Remo said.

"If you want us to get secrets," Chiun started to tell Smith.

37

"I appreciate the offer, Master," said Smith. "I really do. Perhaps another tune. Rerao, you'll have to travel with the team as an athlete. But you'll have to work your way on through competition."

"You've got to be kidding," Remo said.

"This is wonderful," Chiun said. "If I can't go for the gold myself, who better than my own son?" He leaned close to Smith again. "He's not really my son because he's funny-colored, but I just say that to make him feel good." He leaned back. "Of course, I will travel with him."

"Of course," Smith said. "You can travel as his trainer."

"Perfect," said Chiun.

"This is a pain," Remo said.

"It will work out fine," Smith said. "Are you sure he's asleep down there?" He pointed again to the drunk at the end of the car.