Nancy followed his instructions. Out of nowhere, another police car appeared and fell in before them, clearing their way. Nancy’s hands were frozen on the steering wheel. She took the right turn on two tires.
They raced through central Washington. The historic Hay-Adams Hotel loomed ahead of them. Nancy screeched to a stop, burning rubber against the curb.
As fast as Dan and the other police were getting out of their cars, Nancy was faster. She raced across the sidewalk, almost knocking down two people who were in her way. Then she ran through the entrance doors, through the lobby, and past a sign directing patrons to a breakfast buffet. Nancy’s lungs burned as she exploded into the high-ceilinged serenity of the Victorian restaurant.
Her eyes swept the room. Suddenly she thought her heart would burst with gratitude. There was Senator Kilpatrick, in a pale gray suit, reaching for her attaché case as Carson Drew rose to pull out her chair.
Something dazzled, the way something had dazzled at the tennis court—
Nancy did not risk the split-second to look for the location of the gun barrel.
“Dad! Get down!” she screamed.
Chapter Eighteen
Communication between the Drews was as good as always. Instantly Carson Drew threw himself forward, directly against Senator Kilpatrick. He knocked her to the ground and rolled with her beneath the table just as the shots rang out.
The bullets hit the crystal goblets on the table. They gave a high musical ping as they shattered.
Somebody screamed.
Within seconds police were everywhere. But the room was shadowy. As police raced in the direction from which the shots had come, Nancy saw a dark figure leap away.
“Dan!” Nancy grabbed his arm.
As Dan swung around, the figure came running straight toward Nancy. The gun was still in his hand. Suddenly, it swung down toward her.
On a table beside Nancy was a vase of red roses. Almost of its own volition, Nancy’s hand snatched up the vase and flung it into the assassin’s face.
The gun fired upward, exploding crystal drops of a chandelier. At the same moment, Dan leaped forward in a flying tackle.
Soon four burly policemen were cuffing the assassin and reading him his rights. The crimson splotches on the carpet were rose petals, not blood.
Nancy ran into her father’s arms.
That night, a jubilant party gathered in Senator Kilpatrick’s box to watch Teresa Montenegro’s triumphant victory in the International Semi-Pro Women’s Tennis Tournament. They had kept their excitement under control during the earlier part of the day, in deference to Teresa’s feelings. But now, with Teresa on the court playing her heart out, it could break free.
“At least I arrived in time for the celebrating,” Ned Nickerson said, hugging Nancy as Teresa prepared for her last game. “I wish I could have helped you out earlier.”
“It helps having you here right now,” Nancy said happily. “I’m so glad you came. It’s not just anyone who would fly all the way to D.C. just for a tennis match.”
Ned had phoned as soon as Senator Kilpatrick’s delayed press conference had gone off the air. The senator, visibly shaken but resolute, had told the world the full story of how Nancy Drew had saved her life at the Hay-Adams Hotel. She had also announced that thanks to Nancy’s quick thinking and the fine cooperation of various federal and local law-enforcement agencies, the notorious hired killer, El Morro, had been arrested.
Several lesser terrorists had also been caught up in the federal agents’ sweep of various American cities. The U.S. government and the vast majority of people in San Carlos were jubilant. The San Carlos dictator had fled to someplace unknown in South America.
Bess, snuggling in Dan’s arms, caught Nancy’s eye and giggled. “Everything’s working out well for everybody,” she said contentedly. “Did you hear that Dan’s leaving the police and taking a permanent job on Senator Kilpatrick’s staff? He’ll have to spend a lot of time back in our home state now!”
“We’ve heard about it three times in the past hour,” George said, grinning.
“Even Señora Ramirez has gotten what she deserved,” Bess continued happily. Teresa’s chaperon was being extradited to San Carlos, where the new provisional government would investigate her strong ties to the former dictator.