Part 26 (1/2)

”Even if it were true, NATO will not stand idly by,” the president added. ”You would be wise to surrender now.”

”NATO?” scoffed Schatz. ”NATO is nothing without the United States and Great Britain,” he said dismissively. ”At the moment England has its own problems with which to contend. As for the United States, it would perhaps have been wise if your predecessor had allowed the Americans to ?y over your country on their Libyan bombing raid. Since that time it has been dif?cult for the giant in North America to rouse itself to French causes.”

The president agreed privately that the words had some validity. The current president's party had not been in power at the time. If it had been up to him, French planes would have joined their American allies in the bombing of the terrorist Arab state.

”We will see,” the president said simply.

The radio on the stage suddenly crackled to life.

Schatz abandoned the president, marching back across the ?oor to the dais.

Behind him the president of France heard a soft voice.

”You would be advised not to incite him,” Kluge whispered in English. His accent was distinctly British. ”He is unstable.”

The president was surprised. He had thought Kluge to be a subordinate who had lost favor with the n.a.z.i leader.

”You do not work for him?” the president whispered.

Kluge managed a sour laugh. ”Hardly,” he said. ”I was sent to help by your good friends across the channel. Have you heard of Source?”

The president didn't have time to admit that he had. All at once Nils Schatz thundered loudly from atop the dais.

”This is an outrage!” he screamed. The radio operator cowered beneath him. ”How many are dead?”

”We do not know yet,” the radio man said. ”Two trucks have been located on Rue de Clichy. Their drivers are both dead. One gruesomely.”

”How?” Schatz demanded.

”His head was crushed beneath his own helmet, Fuhrer.” He hesitated a moment. ”I received news of similar deaths at one of our checkpoints earlier in the evening. Forgive me, Fuhrer, but I a.s.sumed these men who are working for us were inebriated. After all, what force could collapse a skull this way?” Schatz's mouth had become an angry, bloodless line. He spun away from the radio operator, looking down on Kluge.

On the ?oor Adolf Kluge's expression remained bland. He knew what must be going through the old man's crazed mind.

Sinanju. They were on their way.

It was his folly that had brought him to this. Kluge wasn't about to risk exposure by telling the self-t.i.tled fuhrer this in front of half the French government. Sitting cross-legged behind the French president, Adolf Kluge remained mute.

Schatz turned his wild-eyed attention from Kluge to the French president. He was silent for a long moment, reeling in place. Pale blue veins throbbed frantically beneath the dry skin at his temples.

So agitated did he appear, Kluge actually thought he might drop dead on the spot. Sadly it was not to be.

Finally, Nils Schatz spoke.”Your people will be taught a lesson for this-” from the stage he aimed his cane at the president ”-for this ...this ...outrage!” He screamed himself hoa.r.s.e, wheeling around to his skinhead attendants.

”Collect one hundred prisoners for every murdered soldier! I will give them a demonstration of our might at the primary target.

When they see it destroyed, the world will know not to tri?e with the Fourth Reich!”

He pushed away young hands that wished to help him down from the stage. Waving his cane like a bare ?agpole, Nils Schatz stormed from the room.

His insane shouting echoed down the empty corridors of the Palais de l'Elysee.

Chapter 30.

As they drove up in their borrowed truck, Remo was surprised to ?nd that someone had moved the line of concrete barriers that had been placed before the gates of the presidential palace. They were resting now to one side of the road. The bulldozer that had pushed them there sat quietly beside them. Huge tears had been made in the road, sc.r.a.ped up by the heavy concrete slabs.

”Maybe someone already took care of things,” Remo suggested from the driver's seat.

A hail of bullets against the front of the truck a second later told them otherwise.

Smith was crouched down in the rear of the truck. Chiun had been riding shotgun. When the men on the grounds of the palace opened ?re, Chiun sprang from the truck and raced up the path that led inside the huge mansion. Remo paused only long enough to advise Smith to keep out of sight before he joined the Master of Sinanju outside the vehicle.

There were a few more bursts of automatic-weapons ?re from inside the grounds. Soon these fell silent.

After a minute Remo returned to the side of the truck.

”Coast is clear, Smitty,” he called.

Smith got up from the ?oor and climbed into the cab. Remo helped him down to the ground.

At the front of the truck they met up with Chiun. ”How does the emperor wish to proceed?” he asked.

”The fastest route inside,” Smith stressed.

”Of course,” Chiun said. ”But it is customary at this time to do either one of two things. You may wish to rule from this place- which, as palaces go, is not without its charm. Or you may opt to sack the priceless artifacts from within and burn the building to its foundation.”

”Neither,” Smith said urgently. ”We are not here as conquerors.”

”Be advised, Emperor,” Chiun said slyly, ”the French are known the world over for the courtesies they extend to those who plunder and enslave. It is the only time they s.h.i.+ne as a people.”

”No, Chiun,” Smith said ?rmly. He sidestepped the Master of Sinanju and ducked through the gates. Remo shrugged and trailed Smith inside.

Chiun shook his head in disapproving bewilderment.

”Americans,” he muttered to himself. He wandered inside the palace grounds after Remo and Smith.

THEY HAD COME a few dozen yards up the drive when Smith literally stumbled across the ?rst body. Remo grabbed him before the CURE director toppled to the ground.

Smith looked down at the dead skinhead. Presumably he was one of those who had ?red on them upon their arrival. The young man's head appeared to have shriveled up beneath his helmet. An indented smiley face had been pressed into the drab metal exterior.There were two others lying nearby who had been similarly dispatched.

”That is unnecessary,” Smith said, looking down at the helmet with a displeased expression.

”Hey, I don't tell you how to do your job,” Remo remarked, defensively. He walked past Smith. They encountered no more resistance between the spot where the bodies lay and the palace.

”Hang back, Smitty.”

Remo approached the door ?rst. The Master of Sinanju came up from behind, standing protectively next to the CURE director.