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"We don't know that there will be a next one."
"Do you want to tell the President that there won't be a next one? Do you,
soldier?"
"No, sir," the major said hastily.
"Let me explain something to you, son. There are two absolutes in national
defense. Our ability to detect and intercept an incoming threat. And our
ability to retaliate in the event of an attack. We have no defense against
this thing. It went up so fast our satellites couldn't read it. Hell, we
barely had time to get the President into deep cover before it hit. But more
important, we don't know where the bastard came from. We can't admit it hit
sovereign territory without admitting weakness. Therefore, we can't warn the
world that it had better not happen again. And if it does happen again,
chances are we'll just have enough time to kiss our fat, contented assess
goodbye. "
"I think you may be exaggerating, sir."
"We're sitting ducks. Do you know how many steam locomotives there are in
Russia? In China? In the third world? Thousands. Maybe tens of thousands. And
every one of them a potential threat. How are we going to defend ourselves?
Nuke the rest of the world and hope we get the enemy?"
"There may not be a next one," Major Cheek said stubbornly.
"I want total security on this. Who knows that this is a locomotive?"
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"You and I. And three of my men."
"Confine them. They are not to breathe a word of this. No one talks about
trains or locomotives or any of it. I'll figure out what to tell the
President. In the meanwhile, you get your shiny nose into those reference
books. I want to know when this thing was built, who built it, how many more
of them are out there, and I want the answers tonight. You got that,
soldier?"
"Yes, sir, General."
"I'll be at my office trying to hold this country together. Don't let me
down."
And General Martin S. Leiber turned on his heel and stormed out of the
overheated hangar. When he got outside, the rush of cold air made him shiver
and frosted his mustache. He wiped the sweat off his face with a handkerchief
and got into his car.
He was still sweating when he reached the Pentagon.
Chapter 8
"You don't seem very broken up, Little Father," Remo said as he tooled the
lumbering truck through darkened city streets.
"I am not broken at all," sniffed Chiun.
"I didn't mean literally broken," Remo said. "I meant unhappy. As in
heartbroken."
"Why should I be unhappy? It is true that I agreed to accompany you on what
should have been a short pleasure ride but has turned into an expedition
second only to Odysseus' voyage home from the Trojan Wars. But I am not
grief-sticken."
"How was I to know that the first three zoos we'd try would refuse to accept
Rambo?"
"You could have called ahead."
"I was in a hurry. I want this albatross off my neck."
"Albatross? What albatross?" Chiun asked, looking around.
"Never mind," fumed Remo.
"I wasn't going to mention this, but this is all your fault."
Remo braked the truck in anger. It skidded and he had to wrestle the wheel to
the left to avoid hitting a mailbox. He succeeded. He hit a fireplug instead.
"How odd," said Chiun when the truck jounced to a halt. "It is raining, yet
there are no clouds."
Remo threw the truck into reverse and backed off the hydrant so the engine
would not be flooded. Wordlessly he got out of the truck.
The fireplug was cracked at its base. Water gushed up from the shattered main.
Because Remo was upset, he did not approach the problem logically. He kicked
the hydrant. The casing flew into a wall. Without the hydrant to cap it, the
water geysered upward.
Remo was instantly soaked, which did not improve his mood.
Seeing no other alternative, he plunged into the geyser. Eyes clamped shut to
the overpowering column of water, he felt for the sharp, broken water-main
mouth. When his fingers found it, he began working the metal. Shrill metallic
squeals emanated from the main.
Slowly, as Remo squeezed the water main shut, the torrent turned to a gush and
then dropped off to a spastic trickle.
When Remo stood up, only a little water still stubbornly bubbled up. Remo
stamped on the source, and the water stopped.
Soaking wet, he climbed back into the cab and tried the ignition. It caught
after several tries and he backed the truck off the sidewalk.
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