Part 35 (2/2)

Retreat. The word sounded ominous.

Shouting over the din of crying children, Jana relayed the information to the driver, who sat stiff-armed at the wheel. Jana could see the woman's face in the mirror. She looked petrified. She was crying.

”I . . . I can't . . . ,” the driver shouted back. ”If I put it in gear, we'll go over the edge.”

Her prediction of doom was a stick and the interior of the bus a beehive. The children became agitated.

”We're not going over the edge,” Jana cried. ”Ease the gears.h.i.+ft into reverse. We have a guardian angel behind us guiding us.”

Jana thought that sounded more comforting than Secret Service agent, and it seemed to work. At least with the children.

”I . . . I don't think I can do it!” the driver wailed.

”Yes you can!”

Jana was beginning to wonder if she was going to have to go up there and drive the bus. But the driver managed to calm herself enough to put the gears.h.i.+ft in reverse.

The bus lurched. Children screamed.

Jana looked out the back window. The agent was looking at the tires and the length of the bus. He seemed unconcerned about any danger. Jana took her cue from him.

”You're doing great!” Jana shouted. ”Keep going.”

The bus moved away from the side railing. And just when Jana was convinced they were going to be fine, she saw a black speck in the sky.

”Oh no!” she cried.

”Oh no!” I cried.

Danny Noonan was coming back for another run.

Moments earlier I had watched as Noonan pulled up sharply, doing that maneuver Tom Cruise pulled in Top Gun. The two pursuit planes flew beneath him. What was wrong with them? Hadn't they seen the movie? Once again the bridge was in Danny Noonan's sights.

Semyaza observed the maneuver stoically, as though presidential a.s.sa.s.sinations were daily events. ”Did I tell you Danny Noonan is eager to meet you?” he droned. ”Let me see if I can recall his exact words. I believe he said he wanted to meet the 'lowlife sc.u.m who immortalized the lie' surrounding his grandfather's death.”

He'd have to get in line, I thought. When the truth about Lloyd Douglas came out, there would be a lot of people eager to take a swing at me.

I focused on the attacking FA-18's approach. The pursuit aircraft had circled around, but they were too far away to do anything. The vehicles on the bridge were sitting ducks.

”One more thing,” Semyaza said, ”the school bus driver? One of us.”

”You mean, an angel.”

”She took physical form to ensure that the bus's arrival was delayed long enough to get caught behind the traffic barrier. How else does one get a bus in a presidential motorcade except by invitation?”

”Why children?” I cried. ”Why kill innocents?”

”It looks good in the history books. Murdering innocents solidified Herod's legacy, didn't it?”

Words exploded from my mouth. ”You vicious, cruel, barbarous, diabolical monster!”

Semyaza smiled as though I'd complimented him. ”I'm partial to Old Scratch, myself. Azazel likes Mephistopheles. But then, he was fond of Goethe. You have to remember, Grant, we're the ones who inspired those names.” As an afterthought, he said, ”Oh yeah . . . Jana's on the bus.”

”What!”

I took a swing at him. My fist pa.s.sed through him.

”Act two,” Semyaza said, turning his attention to the approaching FA-18.

Twin flashes lit the underside of the wings, sp.a.w.ning white serpents identical to the previous strikes. This time they hit the east end of the bridge. The explosive force lifted huge chunks of concrete into the air. Gravity reversed their course. They splashed into the bay.

As before, the rockets missed the vehicles.

”Another miss!” I shouted. ”Looks like your hotshot pilot isn't so-”

A blast of machine-gun fire from Noonan's FA-18 strafed the bay in front of me so close I could hear the bullets sizzle as they knifed into the water. The backwash of the jet knocked me onto my backside, reopening old dog-bite wounds.

Semyaza stood unaffected.

”I think he recognized you,” he said.

Great. Now someone recognizes me.

I started to get up. The pursuit aircraft knocked me back down.

Danny Noonan's FA-18 shot up nearly perpendicular to the ground. This time the pursuit pilots were ready for him and Noonan was forced to bank sharply left. He hightailed it out to sea.

Semyaza stood over me. ”So, Grant,” he said, cheerfully, ”enjoying yourself?”

”This is it!” the wigged teacher shouted when she saw the rockets.

Jana braced herself.

The explosion lifted the bus off the bridge and for a moment everything and everyone was suspended in midair. It was one of those heart-in-the-throat moments when you don't know what's going to happen next, but you know it's going to be bad and may even be fatal. It felt as though the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath them, leaving nothing but two hundred feet of air separating them from death.

A moment later the bus found the bridge again, hard, slamming everyone against the seats and floor. The long, bulky vehicle rocked, then settled. Inside, it was battlefield quiet, when the shooting stops and the moans begin.

With the help of the seat in front of her Jana pulled herself up and looked out the side window. She saw a ragged concrete edge and then nothing but distant bay. They were sitting literally inches from where the bridge ended.

”It's . . . it's . . . gone!” the driver cried. ”One second it was there and now it's gone!”

The bridge wasn't the only thing that was gone. So was the Secret Service agent. When Jana looked out the back window to see if he was all right, all she saw were sungla.s.ses lying broken on the pavement.

”We have to get out of here before the bridge collapses!” the driver shouted. She pulled the lever that opened the door and screamed.

There were three bus steps then . . . nothing.

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