marking her out in the crowd, hunkered down at ground level among the terrified onlookers. Lock could see her hands working the zip of a large designer-leather backpack that lay on the sidewalk in front of her. Her knees and elbows were pumping as she slithered forward, unnoticed by those around her.
Could any of the police snipers positioned on the rooftops around the cathedral see Reaper? Lock assumed not: the smoke from the flares was still far too thick. He crawled back out, belly on the ground, aimed his SIG towards Reaper and fired a quick shot. It was enough to distract him. Lock fired again, this time finding his target. Reaper was blown backwards from the bike, the leather jacket he was wearing shredding into pieces to reveal Kevlar body armor As Reaper scrambled back to his feet, Lock took his chance, punching out another round which caught Reaper at the very top of his nose. Reaper’s forehead opened up. Blood and chunks of his brain spattered across the sidewalk. He fell with a thump backwards on to the sidewalk, his arms splayed out at his sides.
Lock’s focus snapped back to Chance as she opened her backpack and pulled out a matching compact RPG launcher. Most women carried Mace, or at most a taser, but Chance wasn’t most women. Moving on to one knee, the RPG launcher slung over her shoulder, she took aim.
So did Lock. Aiming for her chest, he began to squeeze down on the trigger. Then he froze.
The hard swell of her belly, made visible by her T-shirt riding up as she hefted the RPG launcher, stopped him cold. Something primal, or maybe something hard-wired from years of protecting life, kicked in. He shook his head. She was every bit as dangerous as her father, he told himself, resighting and moving his hands up less than half a foot so that now it would be a head shot.
But the two-second hesitation was enough. There was a zip, then a bang, and finally the roar of an impact as the grenade tore into the hood of The Beast. The front of The Beast arched up, then a hundred yards in front of it the newly repaired patch of road erupted, sending earth and debris high into the air and twisting The Beast in the other direction.
When Lock looked up, his mouth, nose and eyes clogged with dust, The Beast had come to rest on its side. The windows and the inner core looked intact, but what about the people inside?
There was a moment of stunned silence, then the screams began again, but where exactly they were coming from was anyone’s guess.
Through the smoke, what was left of the Secret Service detail poured towards The Beast, fanning out to surround it, while others worked to prise open the doors that lay air side up.
Lock got to his feet, the muscles in his legs shaking as he tucked the Glock into the waistband of his trousers.
Ty suddenly appeared through the murk. Lock was as surprised as he guessed Ty was to see him out of custody, but there was no time to dwell on that now. Already the limp body of a child was being lifted carefully from the wreckage of The Beast.
68
As Lock stared at the scene before him, through the fog emerged the President and the First Lady, their arms around each other and their eldest daughter. Lock put a hand on the cruiser to steady himself, wiped the dust from his mouth and took a big gulp of fresh air. They were safe.
Ty clamped a hand on his shoulder. ‘Good shooting, brother.’
Lock glanced round. ‘Thanks.’
They stayed there for a few more minutes, until they heard the first Emergency Medical Service ambulances approaching.
Lock straightened up. ‘Let’s go see if we can find her.’
Together, they roamed the streets for close to an hour. There was no sign of Chance, and the shocked state of most people didn’t help matters.
Rounding the corner on to California Street, Lock caught sight of Carrie reporting live to camera. He waited for her to finish, admiring her quiet composure in the middle of all the chaos.
She threw her arms round his neck when she saw him. ‘You OK?’
‘Yeah, but one of ’em got away.’
‘Jesus, Ryan, will you switch off for two seconds? That’s not what I asked you.’
‘I’ll switch off when she’s found. I had her right in my sights too. I just couldn’t pull the trigger.’
‘Because she was a woman?’
Lock looked straight into Carrie’s eyes. ‘Because she was pregnant. I was aiming dead centre.’
Carrie smoothed her hands across his face, and kissed him softly on the lips. ‘You did the right thing.’
‘But if I’d taken the shot everyone inside the car would have been OK. Have you had any word on how they are yet?’
‘Shaken up real bad, but OK. No word yet on the daughter.’ She hesitated. ‘We’ve also had a report of a multiple homicide over in Oakland. Mom, Dad, two kids. All with their throats cut. Think that had anything to do with Reaper and his daughter?’
‘Sounds like their work.’ Lock took a deep breath and turned towards Ty. ‘Let’s keep looking.’
As he leaned in to kiss Carrie, he swayed, his legs almost folding beneath him. Carrie and Ty caught him between them.
‘I’m fine,’ he said, brushing off their help.
Carrie pointed behind them where an EMS ambulance was parked, the two-man crew taking a brief water break.
‘I got it,’ said Ty, jogging towards them.
‘You need to take care of yourself, Ryan,’ Carrie said. ‘Please, for my sake?’
‘OK,’ Lock said, sighing. ‘But if they give me the all-clear we keep looking for Chance. We’re not safe yet.’
One of the paramedics headed back over with Ty. ‘Sit down on the kerb for me, sir.’
Lock sat, his head in his hands. He was dog-tired.
The paramedic began to run through the usual checks.
‘We’re looking for someone who got lost in the crowd,’ Lock said.
‘Open your eyes for me,’ said the paramedic, checking out Lock’s pupil dilation.
‘White woman. Mid twenties. Blonde hair. She was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, sneakers. They were white as well.’
‘Could you look up for me?’ the paramedic said.
‘And she was pregnant. Maybe, I dunno, about four months. Not huge, but enough of a bump to be noticeable.’
‘Couple of tattoos? Kind of messed-up ones?’
Lock made eye contact. ‘Yeah. Where’d you see her?’
‘See her? We just dropped her off at St Francis. She said she was having a miscarriage. I tried to take a look at her, but she freaked out. I think she might have just been in shock. But better safe than sorry with someone in that condition, right?’
Elbowing the paramedic aside, Lock jumped to his feet. Carrie was standing by the mini-van, Ty at her side. Exhaustion forgotten, he ran over to them. ‘Quick, where’d they take the President and his family?’
Carrie thought for a moment. ‘St Francis. Why?’
‘Because we have to get over there — now!’
69
The hospital was chaotic. Cops, doctors, nurses and the walking wounded from the blast filled the waiting area. Chance had been handed a stack of forms then left to her own devices. No one gave her a second look.
She flagged down a passing nurse. ‘Is there a ladies’ room?’
