Quinn whipped around until he was looking in the direction of the congressman. It seemed Quinn’s run-in with Blondie had attracted only local attention. The crowd at large appeared oblivious to what had gone on.
As Quinn pushed his way through, he spotted Guerrero. The con-gressman’s wife was no longer with him. She had moved off toward one of the stalls with a member of Guerrero’s security team—getting out of the way, perhaps, and creating a legitimate reason why Guerrero would have only one guard at his side.
What he couldn’t see was Tasha.
“Where is she?” he asked.
“She’s about fifteen feet in front of me, coming in from the north,” Orlando said.
“Take her out!” Quinn said.
“What do you think I’m trying to do?”
“Nate, do you see her?”
“No,” Nate said.
Quinn no longer cared about maintaining secrecy. He began shoving people out of his way. He could hear angry voices behind him, but no one took their protest further.
He closed to within twenty feet of the congressman and shouted out a warning. But his words were swallowed by the noise of the crowd.
“Bad guy coming up on your right,” Nate said.
“You have visual on me?” Quinn asked.
“Yes. I’m not far behind him.”
Quinn looked to his right and immediately spotted one of Tasha’s men.
“Keep him away from me,” Quinn said. “I don’t have time.”
“Check,” Nate said.
The congressman was only ten feet away when someone tugged at Quinn’s arm. Quinn pulled back, ready to lash out at his new attacker, but it was Murray.
“I...I lost him before,” Murray said. “I’m sorry. Do you still want me to talk to him?”
Quinn grabbed Murray by the back of the shirt and started pushing him toward the congressman. “Get in there and get him on the ground! Now!”
He gave Murray a powerful shove, sending him racing through the crowd.
Quinn looked past Guerrero, in the direction Orlando said Tasha would be coming from.
And there she was. Only five feet behind the congressman. She was reaching into the large purse that hung over her shoulder.
Quinn threw the man who was standing in front of him to the side.
“No!” he screamed as he rushed forward.
Everyone looked up—Tasha, the congressman, his remaining bodyguard. They were all looking toward Quinn, so none of them saw Murray rushing up to the congressman. Without a word, Murray tackled Guerrero to the ground.
Then all hell broke loose.
Guerrero shouted out in surprise. Then the crowd itself seemed to realize something bad was going on.
Everyone began yelling and shoving, and trying to run. Some wanted to see what was happening, while others wanted to get away. No order. Only chaos.
Guerrero’s bodyguard pulled at Murray, trying to get him off. But Murray was hanging on tight.
Tasha had rushed forward, too, a gun now in her hand. She was bending down to get next to the congressman. The frenzy had actually played into her hands, covering her actions. Not only that, but Murray was holding the congressman still for her, unintentionally aiding her efforts.
Quinn had no time to get to his weapon. He took two quick steps, then dove at her.
She saw him at the last second, and tried to get out of the way but couldn’t. He slammed into her right shoulder, and they both tumbled backward onto the ground.
Quinn grabbed for the gun in her hand. He tried to twist it out of her grasp, but she held on tight, displaying a strength she had hidden when she had been with him last.
She tried hitting him in the face, but he deflected the blow.
They began struggling, each trying to get control of the other as they tumbled first one way, then another across the ground.
Suddenly they knocked up against one of the permanent tables. Quinn angled Tasha’s arm up, hitting it into one of the chairs. But she wasn’t letting go of her gun.
“Where is she?” Tasha demanded.
Quinn hit her hand against the chair again.
“Is she with you? Is she here?”
