Abdulhalik did not look amused. .. but after a moment he cracked a thin
smile. “I see. You will forgive me if my sense of humor is lacking this
morning. It has been a long night.”
“Just who are you working for, anyway? The FBS?”
Abdulhalik considered the question for a few seconds before answering.
“Actually, I am on the general’s personal staff. Security. At the
moment, the Federal Bureau of Security is the opposition.”
“I see. Why were you keeping an eye on me last night, then?”
A shrug. “If the general is to have his ‘quick getaway,’ as you call it,
it is important that nothing happens to you. Yes?”
Tombstone considered telling him about the knife-wielding mugger in the
stairwell, then thought better of it. Abdulhalik looked like he had
enough on his mind already without having Tombstone bother him with
irrelevant might-have-beens.
A stir in the crowd and a rising murmur of conversation marked the
appearance of General Boychenko, Admiral Tarrant, and Special Envoy
Sandoval at the front of the White Palace. Boychenko was tall and
silver-haired, with a beaklike nose that gave him the look of a bird of
prey. Sandoval was shorter and dark-haired, with a sketch of a mustache
and a self-important air. Tarrant looked businesslike and
matter-of-fact, even a little bored. Accompanied by several aides and a
small army of security troops, the three made their way up the steps and
onto the stage. Captain Whitehead stood to greet Boychenko and shake his
hand. The others stood until the VIPS took their places behind the
podium, then sat down with a creak and scrape of chairs on wood.
The speech was in Russian, and Tombstone understood not a single word.
Not that he was particularly interested in the content. Had he wanted
one, there were translations available in various languages, but he
already knew the overall topic and didn’t particularly care if he could
follow the reasoning or not. Boychenko was talking about the need for
international arbitration, the importance of the UN, the need for world
peace.
Not that anything being said had meaning. The UN hadn’t enforced a
working peace anywhere in the world yet. .. not until all parties in a
given dispute had their own reasons for stopping the fighting. Ukraine
would be watching these proceedings with considerable interest, and
Tombstone was pretty sure that they, at least, would soon be testing the
UN’s resolve. As the speech-making droned on, Tombstone looked away from
Boychenko and let his gaze move across the crowd. Pamela, he saw, was
watching Boychenko raptly, though he knew that she spoke no Russian
either; a battery of cameras, both still and video, were trained on the
Russian general as he spoke, and Tombstone could hear the ratcheting
whir-click of automatic winders as the cameras fired. There must have
been fifty or sixty reporters present, and easily ten times that many
other people–dignitaries, civilians, and soldiers. Tomboy was also in
the crowd, over with the civilians and those members of Jefferson’s
company who weren’t up on the stage. The seat was uncomfortable, and
Boychenko’s droning monotonous. How the hell had he gotten into this
situation?
Perhaps because he was watching the reporters instead of Boychenko,
Tombstone saw the movement first, a crucial second or two before anyone
else was aware. Three men detached themselves from the closely packed
group of reporters, advancing toward the stage. They wore long-hemmed
trench coats, and each was extracting something hard and metallic from
beneath his garment’s open front as he moved. Someone was shouting. A
woman screamed. Two of the running men had their weapons out and clearly
visible now–AKMS firing port weapons–basically AKM assault rifles with
folding steel-frame butts to make them smaller and more concealable
under a trench coat. The third was waving a handgun; Tombstone couldn’t
see what kind it was.
Abdulhalik was leaping forward toward the front of the stage, fumbling
inside his jacket for his own weapon. Other security men were also
reaching for their guns, but slowly. .. too slowly. Except for
Whitehead, who sat stunned and unmoving, Tombstone was closest to
Boychenko. He leaped forward with the suddenness of an F-14 catapulted