Liz Shaler spoke with authority and passion, animating her talk with her beautiful hands. “There is a growing abyss in this country, a divide between haves and have-nots that must finally be addressed. Those of us here today are fortunate to be in the former category, but that also puts us in a position of responsibility to have a critical impact on this country’s future. An obligation for improvement. I see a need for moral certitude, yes, but administered with a compassion promised by the present administration but never delivered. It is time we stand up and say, ‘If not me, who? If not now, when?’”
The audience erupted into applause. A good number jumped to their feet. Patrick allowed himself a smile.
Then he spotted a red-faced and out-of-breath Walt Fleming at the back of the room, and he knew he had trouble.
Walt paused only briefly at the door. Dryer’s men were likely on orders to keep him out of this room. He searched for Nagler, for the dog, as he walked away from the doors and toward a corner where he could get a look back at the faces. Much of the crowd rose in applause, blocking his view of the room. Then he spotted his father straight ahead. His father spotted him and shook his head as if to say, “You’ll never make it.”
Ten
W e stand at a threshold,” Shaler said from the dais, “a turning point where we can elect to go back or push forward. The choices have never been more clear…”
Cutter watched as some heads turned with the sheriff’s quick movement. Here was the very distraction he’d hoped to avoid-Dick O’Brien would hear about this! Shaler, too, took notice of the sheriff, angling her head slightly-looking for a possible sign. Now Dryer’s two agents, flanking the stage, picked up on him as well.
Liz Shaler pressed on: “We will find solutions with friends from both sides of the aisle. But find them, we will! The best days still lie ahead.”
More applause rippled through an increasingly divided crowd.
“It is no easy task what I propose. But I believe I am up to the challenge. Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the United States, I come here today to humbly offer you my services, as a fellow, concerned citizen, a former educator, a litigator, and yes: as a woman.” She paused and studied the crowd. “I offer you my candidacy for the president of the United States of America.”
Walt continued searching the room for sight of Nagler. The crowd jumped to its feet. He saw nothing but frantic waving and excited faces.
He risked a look back: two of O’Brien’s men, closing fast.
Walt reached Jerry and raised his voice over the thunderous cheering. “It’s the blind guy…maybe the dog is concealing a piece. This is for real, Dad. You’ve got to go with me on this.”
Walt met his father’s questioning look with absolute conviction and confidence.
“You were right,” Walt said. “They’re coming to get me. And they took my piece.”
“I’m with you,” Jerry said.
“Okay. Sorry about this,” Walt said. He reached inside his father’s sport coat and took his gun.
As he spun around, there were Nagler and the dog, on the opposite end of the cavernous room.
Eleven
A s the audience rose to its feet, Trevalian knelt and once again slipped the jogging bra in front of Callie’s snout. As he did so, he spotted the sheriff immediately. Both men knew what was going to happen next.
Trevalian let go of the guide harness. He said, “Find it!” The dog took off into the thunderous crowd. Shaler stepped away from the lectern and began a series of bows. It was, for her, a beautiful moment.
He looked behind him: The cameras rolled. He plunged his hand into his coat pocket, his thumb hovering over the remote’s button.
Twelve
L iz Shaler waved and bowed, her moment of glory upon her. Cameras flashed brightly. A news cameraman tried to part a seam down the standing crowd to get a better shot of the candidate. O’Brien’s men hurried to cut this off.
Then one of the agents shouted, “GUN!” He pointed at Walt.
His counterpart dove to take down Elizabeth Shaler. But she had had her eye on Walt for the past few seconds. When she saw him with a gun in hand, she knew he’d been right all along. “W…A…L…T!” she screamed.
Walt took a step toward Nagler just before he heard someone else cry, “GUN!”
It never occurred to Walt that warning was in response to his gun. Somehow Nagler had sewn a gun inside the dog as a means to secret the weapon through security-that was the picture in Walt’s head. By now Nagler had removed the gun and intended to use it. Obviously, one of Dryer’s men had been alert enough to see Nagler reach for it in his coat pocket.
What threw him off this notion, in those slow split seconds, was Nagler’s calm composure, his keeping his hand in his pocket, and his uninterrupted attention out ahead of him-not looking at Shaler, but at something much lower in the room.
The dog…
At that moment, his father’s profile entered his peripheral vision, coming in front of him. The man was running-a rare enough sight. He shouted, “Nooooo!” as he threw himself in front of Walt, who recoiled to avoid a collision.
A loud report of a gun.
Blood sprayed across Walt’s face. His father was spun around by the force of the gunshot. He’d taken a bullet to protect Walt, and the two met eyes briefly as Jerry went down. He coughed out roughly, “Go!”
Screams and cries as the crowd panicked. Walt checked the stage: Liz Shaler was pinned down by two agents.
As men and women stampeded toward the exits, he caught one last glimpse of Nagler: The man was still as a statue, his attention locked on the dog.
And there was the dog, nose to the carpet, as it roamed in illogical loops.
Sniffing…
Another look in Nagler’s direction, but he was obscured by the crowd. His father, bleeding at his feet. The dog hot on a scent. And now he knew…
“BOMB!” he shouted.
Thirteen
T he dog shied around a fallen chair. Walt danced through a field of people lying on the floor and crawling under the tables. He lunged for the dog, caught a back leg. She snarled, snapped at him, and rolled away. But Walt got a piece of her collar, lost his purchase, and found his fingers wrapped tightly around something firm and thin. The dog yelped and threw Walt off, her legs in the air as she rolled away from him.
Walt saw a hastily stitched incision running up the dog’s abdomen. Saw that he’d been holding a piece of lamp wire that ran from the incision to the dog’s collar.
An image of the discarded box in Nagler’s bathroom: ESS FENCE. He completed the crossword: Wireless Fence. A shock collar; a battery carrying enough voltage to trigger a blasting cap.
Trevalian’s hand inside his coat pocket…
Walt rose and dove again. A woman screamed, and the dog changed directions. Walt fell forward and hooked his fingertips around that wire. He pulled down hard. The dog cried out, twisted its neck, and bit Walt’s arm. The wire broke free.
Walt dropped his father’s gun and picked it back up.
Pandemonium as the two agents dragged Liz Shaler off the stage.
But for Walt there was only Nagler in the room as the man feverishly pressed a remote device that failed to answer.
A group of fleeing guests obscured his view.
He glanced over at his father, balled up in pain on the carpet.
He looked back for Nagler.
Gone.
Fourteen
T revalian’s plan had been to escape out the service corridor, but being so close to the main doors, as the stampede of terrified guests approached, he went with the flow, using it as cover.