They had been met at the Lyon Satolas Airport by their old friend Nguyen Van Dinh.  Formerly known as Lt. Van Dinh of the Saigon Municipal Police, in South Vietnam, he, his wife, and his junior partner (Sgt. Sun Tan) had been evacuated to Tahiti by Anjiro Watanabe and his son Samuru less than a week before Saigon's fall to the North Vietnamese in 1975.  With Samuru doing the piloting (in a privately chartered Learjet) from Tahiti to New York City via Honolulu, Los Angeles, and Chicago.  The refugees then spent a few weeks at a small bed-and-breakfast place in New Rochelle while the French ambassador to the United Nations arranged for emigration visas to France.  More specifically?  To the city of Lyon...where Van Dinh and Sun Tan subsequently went to work for the International Criminal Police Organziation. 

 Interpol, for short.

 Here it was, four years later, and he was now returning the favor.  He just wished that he had good news to deliver.

 "My apologies, mes amis.  I forwarded your request to the Surete.  But, by the time they initiated surveillance of her apartment, Mlle. Gaston had already left the country.   A photo-shoot in Houston, Texas, according to her current employers!"

 Chet looked at his uncle:  "You think she's going to meet Fujita?"

 "Could be.  Kamal did say he'd arranged for a flight from Casablanca to Mexico City.  But, that could place the rendezvous anywhere between Brownsville and El Paso!"

 "I vote for El Paso.  If he's got ten days (or less) left to kill the princess, he'll want to enter Texas by the shortest route possible."

 "Either way, kid, we check out first thing, tomorrow."

 Agent Van Dinh smiled, apologetically.

 "It is most unfortunate that you could not stay longer, under more pleasant circumstances, mon ami.  Still, it was nice to see you again. If only to express, once more, all my gratitude for what you did for us, at so much private expense, four years ago."

 "Non merci, necessaire," replied Jiro:  "We owed it you.  Big time!"   

 Van Dinh's smile widened into a grin.

 "In that case, I shall wish you au revoir, bon voyage, et bon chance."

  * * * * *

  SNODGRASS ARMS HOTEL,

   MAGIC CITY, TEXAS

   MAY 2, 1979

   Myron Meriwether was not in the best of moods when he got off the elevator.  Not after what Buck Fogarty had communicated to him.  Even so, he managed to keep his frustration in check as Princess Jumana's Zouave bodyguards routinely patted him down.  After all, he would be doing exactly the same thing if circumstances were reversed!   All his training and experience making him empathize with the seucrity consciousness of others.

  It was why he instinctively reached for the gun-and-shoulder holster he had been forced to leave behind, in his hotel room, when he heard the window down the hall get smashed to pieces.

  Three of the Zouaves closest to it spun about, one hundred eighty degrees, their 9mm Browning Hi-powers already drawn. Yet, fast as they had done so, the black-clad figure crouched amidst the broken glass proved faster.  His left arm tossing, in an over-handed throw, what looked like a hard-boiled egg.  But, which was, in fact, the ninjitsu equivalent of a flash-bang grenade!

  The ensuing flash of light, half-deafening explosion, and cloud of acrid smoke spoiled their aim as a result.  It also prevented them from avoiding getting wounded in their respective right thighs by octagonal shurikens.  Hence, each one of them reflexively dropped their weapons as they all three fell to their left knees.  But, while their faces winced in pain, the faces of their fellow bodyguards became slack-jawed with shock and astonishment at what they beheld next.

  Namely, the shrinking of the three wounded men to the size of dolls!

  That was all the provocation Meriwehter needed,  He immediately dove for one of the discarded Brownings, then somersaulted into a firing position, all in one fluid motion.  Firing one bullet apiece into each of the ninja's legs.  Followed by a third...literally right between the eyes. Yet, just as he was lowering his weapon and getting back on his feet, the window at the other end of the hall likewise broke!

  "Here we go, again," he muttered as he swung around and aimed.

  tbc