Jeff jumped out of the car and moved toward the school. A fireman stopped him.
“You can’t go any nearer, sir.”
“Has anyone been inside?” Jeff demanded.
“No. We just broke open the front door.”
“There’s a boy in the basement.” Before anyone could stop him, Jeff went through the splintered doorway and ran inside. The place was filled with smoke. Jeff tried to yell Kemal’s name, but only a cough came out. He put a handkerchief over his nose and ran down the hallway to the steps that led to the basement. The smoke was acrid and thick. Jeff fumbled his way down the stairs, holding on to the banister.
“Kemal!” Jeff called. There was no answer. “Kemal.” Silence. Jeff made out a vague shape at the other end of the basement. He moved toward it, trying not to breathe, his lungs burning. He almost tripped over Kemal. He shook him. “Kemal.” The boy was unconscious. With an enormous effort, Jeff picked him up and started carrying him toward the stairs. He was choking and was blinded by the smoke. He lurched drunkenly through the swirling black cloud, carrying Kemal in his arms. When he reached the steps, Jeff half carried him, half dragged him up the stairs. He heard distant voices, and he passed out.
General Booster was on the phone with Nathan Novero, the airport administrator at Washington National Airport.
“Does Roger Hudson keep his plane there?”
“Yes, General. As a matter of fact, he’s here now. I believe they’ve just been cleared for takeoff.”
“Abort it.”
“What?”
“Call the tower and abort it.”
“Yes, sir.” Nathan Novero called the tower. “Tower, abort the takeoff of Gulfstream R3487.”
The air traffic controller said, “They’re already taxiing down the runway.”
“Cancel their clearance.”
“Yes, sir.” The air traffic controller picked up his microphone. “Tower to Gulfstream R3487. Permission to take off is canceled. You will return to terminal. Abort takeoff. I repeat, abort takeoff.”
Roger Hudson stepped into the cockpit. “What the hell is this?”
“There must be some kind of delay,” the pilot said. “We’ll have to return to the—”
“No!” Pamela Hudson said. “Keep going.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Hudson, I’d lose my pilot’s license if—”
Jack Stone moved next to the pilot with a gun pointed at the pilot’s head. “Take off. We’re heading for Russia.”
The pilot took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
The plane sped down the runway, and twenty seconds later, it was airborne. The airport administrator watched in dismay as the Gulfstream soared higher and higher into the sky.
“Jesus! He went against—”
On the phone, General Booster was demanding, “What’s going on? Did you stop them?”
“No, sir. They—they just took off. There’s no way we can make them—”
And at that moment the sky exploded. As the crew on the ground watched in horror, parts of the Gulfstream started raining down through the clouds in fiery pieces. It seemed to go on forever.
At the far edge of the field, Boris Shdanoff watched for a long time. Finally he turned and walked away.
XXVI
DANA’S MOTHER TOOK a bite of the wedding cake.
“Too sweet. Much too sweet. When I was younger and I used to bake, my cakes would melt in your mouth.” She turned to Dana. “Isn’t that true, darling?”
“Melt in your mouth” would have been the last phrase that came to Dana’s mind, but it was not important. “Absolutely, Mother,” she said with a warm smile.
The wedding ceremony had been performed by a judge at City Hall. Dana had invited her mother at the last minute, after a telephone call.
“Darling, I didn’t marry that dreadful man after all. You and Kemal were right about him, so I’m back in Las Vegas.”
“What happened, Mother?”
“I found out that he already had a wife. She didn’t like him, either.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
“So here I am alone again.”
Lonely was the implication. So Dana had invited her to the wedding. Seeing her mother chatting with Kemal and even remembering his name, Dana smiled. We’ll turn her into a grandmother yet. Her happiness seemed too immense to absorb. Just being married to Jeff was a blissful miracle, but there was more.