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."Comrade Zhirinsky," said the breathless young man from behind an overflowingdesk.Ivan Kerbabaev had been assisting Zhirinsky ever since he'd lost his job as afile clerk in the office of the chairman of Material Reserves.Ivan jumped to attention, knocking a stack of pamphlets to the dirty floor.Mouth locking open in horror, he shot a look at his employer.Luckily,Zhirinsky seemed distracted.He pulled off his hat, flinging it to his own desk.A tousled mess ofbrown-turning-to-gray hair spilled out."What is the latest intelligence?" Zhirinsky barked.Ivan's eyes grew wider."Oh.The intelligence," he stammered."About that."Fearful eyes darted around the office, but other than his desk drawers therewas no place to hide.Ivan had a sudden mental image of Vladimir Zhirinskystuffing his dismembered body parts into his desk.He shivered."Well," Ivan continued carefully, "everything seems to be going alongperfectly.Better than perfectly.It is fan-socialist-tastic."When he smiled weakly, Zhirinsky fixed Ivan with cold black eyes.His dementedgleam sparkled with flecks of gray."So the capitalists have surrendered Russian America to us?" Zhirinsky said,his voice flat.Page 57 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlIvan hedged."Not yet, comrade," he admitted."Not technically surrendered.Isuspect they are getting things together.Packing, phoning ahead to see ifthere are hotel rooms ready, that sort of thing."As he spoke, he pretended to scratch a persistent itch on the bridge of hisnose."There should have been something by now," Zhirinsky said to himself."I havecrippled their oil pipeline and destroyed an entire village.Not to mentionthe demonstration against their army.I- Take your hand away from your face!"he snapped, suddenly distracted.Jumping, Ivan slapped his hands to his sides."The Soviet Union must berebuilt piece by piece," Zhirinsky continued."Russian America was lost evenbefore the Revolution.By retaking it, we will signal the start of the newRevolution.The new age that will bring order back to this nation of thievesand whores." Before Zhirinsky, Ivan's hands quivered at his sides."Actually, comrade, there may be a slight problem." Ivan hated to admit it,but he feared the repercussions if he did not.His eyes were fixed squarely onhis employer's sharp teeth."The Kosygin Brigade has not reported in."Black eyes narrowed."Where were they last located?""Near Kakwik," Ivan explained."There was not enough room to airlift them outwith the rest.They were to be collected tomorrow."Zhirinsky's next word was a hiss."Skachkov?" he asked."He was not with them, comrade," Ivan promised.The brief flash of concernfaded."Is it a communication problem?" he suggested."There was some snow in that region of the Alyeska Republic," Ivan said,visibly relieved at his employer's calm acceptance."The storm could haveaffected communications."All remaining tension drained from Zhirinsky's bushy eyebrows."Then that iswhat happened," he insisted."Given their abilities, there is no otherexplanation." He frowned as he took a seat at one of the desks."I do not likethe fact that the Americans are ignoring us.Contact Skachkov.Tell him topurge another village.If they will not evacuate our property willingly, wewill remove them one by one."Ivan almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to leave the office.Hecouldn't use an office phone to call.The Moscow telephone company couldrarely get them to work.He'd have to run around the corner to Arby's.He was bounding out into the hallway when Zhirinsky's voice boomed behindhim."Ivan!" the ultranationalist bellowed.When the terrified young man turned, the former Russian senator wasthoughtfully stroking his bushy mustache."Tell him to save the noses," he commanded.There was a hungry look in hisdemented eyes.As Ivan left, shuddering, Vladimir Zhirinsky bowed his graying head and begansorting through the day's mail.Chapter 18The ground flew by beneath the belly of the racing Kamov, a blanket ofsoothing white stretching off to the horizon.Remo, Chiun and Anna were in the back of the helicopter.The two Masters ofSinanju were side by side.Anna sat across from them."What the hell's a Zhirinsky?" Remo was asking Anna."He is an ultranationalist," she explained."He was a senator in my country atone time.He is also one of many who would like nothing better than to see areturn to the old Soviet totalitarian system.""So much for my first guess," Remo said."I thought it was one of those shittykerosene-powered Eastern European cars with the bicycle tires.So where'dthese guys of his get Sinanju training?""It is not Sinanju," Chiun interjected firmly."Whatever it is they possesswas not given them by a true Master and is therefore false.Since it is notSinanju, it is less than Sinanju.These are no different than the thievingninjas or Sherpas or all the others who would steal embers from the flame thatPage 58 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlis the true Sun Source.""Sherpas?" Remo asked."Not now," Chiun intoned."Your prostitute is about to speak.""These men do have a Master," Anna said, ignoring the old man."LavrentySkachkov is the most skilled of them all.He has guided the training of therest of the men, who look on him with awe.They even call him Mactep.'Master.'"Chiun's face grew concerned."This is true?" he demanded of Anna.She nodded."Skachkov is a true danger," she said."He is not like the rest
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