"I could ask the same of you," the man said coolly. His face was hidden, except for a swatch around the eyes, by the traditional black hood of the ninja warriors of Japan.
"I'm asking it of both of you," said Governor Princippi, stepping off the stairs. He looked closer. "Oh," he said, recognizing Remo. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh, we heard about an attempt on your life," Remo said, trying to keep a straight face. "Looks like we got here just in time."
"Is that right?" the governor asked the man in ninja black. "Are you with this man?"
"I never saw this person in my life," replied the ninja.
"I meant Chiun," said Remo. "Little Father, where are you?"
"Right here," said the Master of Sinanju, stepping out of the bathroom. The toilet flushed, and Remo saw a pair of legs sticking up from the bowl. The toilet overflowed, but the legs did not even quiver.
"I know who you are," the governor said. "But who is this man?" He pointed to the ninja.
The ninja bowed low, sheathing his sword. "I am sent here as a personal representative of the President of the United States, entrusted with the protection of your life. I have been concealed in the darkness since you returned home. "
"A lie!" said Chiun. "Remo and I arrived first. There was no one here when we entered."
"I stood immobile in this very room. No human eye could perceive me, dressed in black. I am like the shadow of vengeance, awaiting your enemies, governor. "
"Tell him why you wear the black scarf over your features," spat Chiun with disdain.
"I have enemies who would seek me out if my face were ever revealed."
"That is not why!" screamed Chiun. "All ninjas go masked because their stealthy arts were stolen from Sinanju. They hide their faces to conceal the shame of what they are-thieves. So it is written in the histories of Sinanju. "
"I know nothing of histories," said the ninja. "I live by my wits and my sword."
"If that is the case," Chiun sniffed, "expect a short life."
"You saved my life," said the governor, brushing past Remo. He stuck out a grateful hand. "I owe you."
The ninja shook the governor's hand. "It was my duty, which I am proud to perform."
"You realize that I cannot take you on faith alone. Do you have anything to identify yourself by?"
"Oh, come on. That's not how it works," said Remo.
"Of course," said the ninja, reaching into a hidden pocket. He tendered a black card with writing etched in gold ink.
The governor read the writing. It said:
"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: THE BEARER OF THIS CARD IS A HIGH OPERATIVE IN A SECRET UNITED STATES INTELLIGENCE AGENCY. PLEASE ACCORD HIM EVERY COURTESY."
The card bore the signature of the President of the United States of America.
Governor Princippi looked up. "I'm satisfied," he said.
"But I'm not," said Remo, snatching the card and reading it. "This is ridiculous," he shouted.
"It is worse than ridiculous," said Chiun, taking it from Remo's hand. "This thief gets a magnificent card from the President and Smith denies me a common Gold Card."
"That's not what I meant," said Remo. "Nobody give out cards like these."
"Not to ninjas," added Chiun, slipping the card into a coat pocket. Later he would show it to Smith and demand one of his own.
"The ninjas were the Japanese Secret Service at one time, weren't they?" the governor asked curiously.
"Indeed," said the ninja. "I am a Master of Ninjutsu, which is Japanese for 'art of stealth.' "
"He means 'art of stealing,' " sputtered Chiun. "You should check your cupboards and briefcases after he leaves. Ninjas have sticky fingers."
"Do you mind?" said the governor. "We're having a conversation here." To the ninja he said, "You did an excellent job here."
"Don't tell me you buy his story," Remo protested. "Look at him. He looks ridiculous. And somebody should tell him that the sword went out of style after the Civil War. "
"Look at you," said the ninja. "Is that your undershirt?"
"Hey, I dress like this so I can blend in with ordinary people. "
"I dress in black so that I may blend in with the shadows. These killers did not see me in the dark. Nor did you."
"Sounds right to me," said the governor. "I used to listen to The Shadow on radio. Wasn't that how he did it?"
"What do you do when it snows, pal?" Remo asked smugly.
"I wear white," said the ninja.
"You should wear brown. It's getting knee-deep in here."
"True servants of the emperor do not hide their faces," added Chiun.
"Why not?" said Governor Princippi. "It worked for the Lone Ranger. No doubt this man requires secrecy to protect his private life. "
Remo turned to the governor. "There's nothing on that card that says this guy belongs to it-or it to him. He could have stolen it, for all we know. "
"I can almost guarantee it," inserted Chiun.
"The card looks authentic to me," said the governor. "And this man saved my life. And I'd still like to know what you two are doing here?"
"I told you. We came to protect you from assassins."
"This other person did that. And someone was in my bedroom a few moments ago. And I don't think it was any of these teenage hoodlums," said the governor, gesturing to the bodies strewn about the parlor. Noticing the headless form of the late Antonio Serrano, he grew a little green along the edge of the jaw. He turned away.
Remo shook his head. "Look, just think about it a minute. This guy waltzes in here, won't show his face, won't tell you his name, flashes a card that says he's from the President but which doesn't bear any name or picture or fingerprint, and you accept him for what he says he is?"