Part 40 (1/2)

They had to take Nelly's word for it that the observation nanos had been herded out of their way.

If an observant human spotted this concentration of nanos, an alarm would go off-but none did.

Neither did a guard look in on them as they climbed past the fourth floor.

On the fifth floor, there was an actually locked door keeping them from the roof level. Jack made short work of it, and they kept going.

In an area clearly intended only for working stiffs, they came to the end of their climb. Gray paint replaced the soft beige walls. Pipes were painted identifying primary colors.

At the roof level were two doors. One looked to open onto the actual roof. Kris turned the other way and led her team into a gray, shadowed corridor.

Drawing her automatic, Kris clicked it to sleepy darts.

Ahead, the first three offices were dark. Empty.

Farther down, light shown from one, its door closing even as they came in view of it.

Somewhere in the building, a single shot rang out.

It was quickly answered by weapons on full automatic.

49.

Gunny Sergeant Brown heard the first shot and shouted, ”Down.” His Marines obeyed in record time.

Most of the civilian drivers stood up taller to get a better look at whatever was going on. Several drivers in their armored limos actually got out so they could gawk.

One saw Gunny on the ground behind the huge limo and sneered.

His sneer lasted for about fifteen seconds as the sound of automatic weapons filled the night air.

Then the auto-guns on the roof cut loose.

Gunny did not look, but from the sound of things, the guns cycled from target to target, sending a short five-round burst into every human in range.

At least, that's what the sneering guy's body absorbed. Five rounds of 20-mm general purpose.

Not much of the sneer survived him taking one round to the head.

Gunny remembered why light infantry loved the earth and hugged her well.

He checked his own Marines. They were doing their earth-hugging best to stay low. As he expected, Private Haskell managed to take a fragment. In the b.u.t.t, no less.

He was screaming like he'd been filleted from nap to chap. Making more racket than any of the civilians. But then, none of the civilians were making any noise at all.

Not even breathing.

Gunny laid there, not much liking that all he could do was lie there on the receiving end. He cuddled up close to the recollection that his time to dish it out would come later.

Still, under fire for the first time in his long career, he didn't much care for this part of the battle. And knew it must be worse for the kids under his command.

”Keep it tight, Marines,” he called. ”The princess is counting on us to suck this up and not do something stupid that'll get us suddenly dead.”

The ”Ooo-hah” that came back was subdued by the earth that protected them.

Grant von Schrader smiled where he stood by the bronze in the center of the rotunda. Things were going very well.

White-coated caterers had produced machine pistols right on his signal. The most observant of the Secret Service watching from the second floor had noticed and gotten off one shot.

He and his a.s.sociates had all died within seconds of that lone resistance. The agents close to the president had gone down with him, a gallant, but in the end, useless defiance.

Several of the bodyguards that would not be turned had also gone down shooting. The stream of fire that got them usually took down their patron.

That quickly persuaded most of the powers that be that they were better off holding their hands up and having their paid protection do the same.

For a brief moment, Grant considered letting that wiser protection live through the night. Maybe hire on with his people. But they had been offered a chance to join before. Could he count on them to join later?

He put that problem off for now.

Some of the more-interesting scenes took place when bigwigs found themselves herded into the rotunda at the point of a gun wielded by their own paid security. The shock on their faces was something Grant would treasure for the rest of his life.

There was nothing quite so delicious as awareness dawning too late.

As the gunfire in the hall fell silent, the auto-guns opened up from the roof. Their power rattled the windows and made the palest among those being shoved together go even paler.

Now the only fire inside was for those who refused to accept their state. ”You-can't-do-this-to-me-I'm-Mr.-Big-of-Bigger-and-Biggest” got a round in the leg.

A half dozen of those, and even the dumbest of the Big, got appropriately small. Or maybe just quiet.

Grant surveyed his handiwork and liked what he saw.

While the fire on the ground floor was heavy, the actual number of deaths on the main floor were few. The president, agents, yes. But people seemed to accept that those were legitimate targets and, somehow, they were not.

The finely dressed saw themselves as different, people of value worth ransoming. They honestly believed their wealth would protect them even in the mouth of a gun.

Over in the front of the rotunda, two bodies were sprawled in blood, one in a soft burgundy dress, the other in a proud royal blue. Ruby and Topaz had served their purpose.

None of the big people really knew them, yet they all had to have seen them at this important party, that event. Now they were dead.

And you would be, too, if you don't do what the guys with guns tell you. It was an easily readable message. Yet those two were n.o.body that anybody personally knew. No one reached for a gun to defend either of the two women.

Still, people looked at those two familiar bodies, and looked away or tossed up their fancy hors d'oeuvres.

And obeyed the guys with guns.

This was almost too easy.