"Go, then," Catlin said. "You time it. There's got to be a trigger in that hall."
Florian took a breath, flexed a stiffened hand and an injured shoulder. "Photocell, likely. Floor and body-height, with an interrupt, electric detonator, best guessI'm first in on this one."
The shockwave shook the bus; and Ari was already ducking when Marco grabbed her and pulled them both down, but she fought to get a look as the bus made the turn.
Smoke billowed up from the area of the Administration Wing front doors. She could see the other bus parked on the slope. The black-uniformed group there was in sudden motion, running uphill.
Her driver stopped.
Marco pulled her flat and threw himself over her.
As the air shook and clods peppered the windows.
Florian picked himself up, wiped his eyes and staggered to his feet as someone helped him, he was not sure who, but it was from behind and it was friendly if it got him up again.
He saw Catlin ahead of him in the dim hall, saw her arm a grenade and wait, the thing live in her handbecause somebody like Seely could give it back to you.
She threw it, but a black blur came out that door.
Florian snapped his pistol up and fired; and the grenade blew the whole doorway to rum. Catlin had fired too. She took another shot, point-blank, to be sure.
Florian leaned against the wall and caught his breath. The net was saying that the teams from Green Barracks had gotten into Securityup the lift shafts from the tunnel system: easy job, till they got to the traps and the defenses.
The whole hall was filled with bluish smoke. The fire alarms had gone off long since.
Catlin walked back to him, swinging her rifle to cover the hall beyond, while he kept a watch over her blind-side. "One more," she said.
He nodded.
He was not glad of this one. Denys had been kind to them. He remembered the dining room, remembered Denys laughing.
But it was sera's safety in question, and he had only a second's compunction.
Catlin had less.
The front doors were in ruins, the smoke still pouring out when Ari climbed off the bus; and Florian and Catlin both came out under the portico to meet her.
"Denys is dead," Florian told her first off. "I'm sorry, sera. It was a set-up."
"What about Seely?"
"Dead," Catlin said.
Ari walked up onto the porch and looked into the hall. Bodies lay scattered in the dim emergency lights, under a lowering canopy of smoke. She had known that place since childhood. It did not look real to her.
Denys gone. . . .
She looked back at Florian and Catlin. Catlin's expression was clear-eyed and cool. It was Florian who looked worried. Florian, who had a gash running blood down his temple and another on his cheek, not mentioning what he had had from Novgorod.
She did not ask. Not anywhere near witnesses.
xvii
The Reseune corporate jet touched smoothly, braked, and swung into a brisk roll toward the terminal and Deconalways a special treatment of plane and passengers, when a flight came in from overseas.
"It's going to take a while," Justin said, hand on Grant's shoulder; and they might have gone to sit down, then, in the comfort of the VIP and press room. But he watched it roll up to the safeway; watched the windows after it had come to rest. He could make out shadows moving inside, nothing more.
But one of them was Jordan and another was Paul.
Everything's all right, he had said, when RESEUNE ONE had let him speak to the incoming plane, when Grant was on the way down from the hill and Reseune was stirring to heal its wounds. Don't worry. Yanni Schwartz is the new Reseune Administrator. Welcome home.
He worried. He watched out the window mostly, while Decon did its work, hosing down the plane in foam. He and Grant exchanged stories in distracted bits and pieces, what they had known, and when, and what they had been in a position to pick up.
He worried until the doors opened and gave up two tired travelers.
After which they had the lounge to themselves, Ari had said, for as long as they wanted; and the sole surviving bus waiting out under the portico, to get them back up the hill.