As they approached the intersection, a young D.C. cop strode lazily toward them. He looked queerly at Granny Biker, perched comfortably on the raised passenger seat behind Matt.
'No admission here,' he said. 'You'll have to head that way two blocks until you see the officer, or else go back to the freeway.'
'Should I say something to him?' Ellen whispered.
'I think we get only one chance at this, and he ain't it. By the time he finishes calling his supervisor, who will call his supervisor, it'll be tomorrow.'
'What, then?' Ellen asked.
By now, several other cars had pulled up behind them. The officer walked past the Harley to repeat his instructions to the occupants of a silver minivan.
'I think we have to move up a couple of levels in the chain of command. Hang on.'
'Just pray that kid in the policeman's uniform doesn't start shooting.'
'It's not him I'm worried about,' Matt said. 'Hold tight. I'm going to try to make it up to the front door of the clinic. What time have you got?'
'Ten after.'
'Damn.'
Matt waited until the policeman had moved to yet another car, and then quickly accelerated around the barrier, up over a low curbing, and down the sidewalk. If the cop fired at them, they never heard or felt it. They were closing rapidly on the phalanx of broadcasting vans marking the entrance to the clinic. A hundred yards… fifty… Matt was entertaining theatrical visions of driving through the glass front door when, from the corner of his eye, he caught rapid movement coming from his left. He slowed and was turning his head when a woman hurled herself at them. Arms outspread, she connected with his and Ellen's shoulders like a missile, sending both of them sprawling off the motorcycle and onto the dirt of a weedy, trash-strewn vacant lot. The riderless Harley skidded on its side along the concrete and came to rest against the base of a tree. The woman, an athletic brunette in her thirties, held them down until two other Secret Service agents arrived, guns drawn.
'Not a move!' one of them snarled, his pistol fixed on them. 'Take those helmets off slowly, you first.'
Ellen and Matt did as he demanded.
'I'm a doctor,' Matt said quickly.
'Please listen to us,' Ellen said. 'I'm a member of the commission that approved the vaccine they just gave to that baby in there. My name's Ellen Kroft. We've just discovered there's a serious problem with Omnivax. We need to speak to someone in authority while they're still on the air so that we can warn the public and keep more kids from being vaccinated. Hundreds of lives may be at stake. Please! I'm telling the truth. There's a dangerous contamination of the vaccine. Mrs. Marquand must be told about it.'
One agent, a lanky black man with a scar across his chin, eyed them suspiciously, then took a silent poll of the other two. Both merely shrugged.
'ID?' he asked.
Ellen shook her head.
'Of course.'
'Wallet, jacket pocket,' Matt said.
'Take it out slowly.'
The agent handed Matt's wallet over to the other man, who scanned the contents,
'West Virginia license. Matthew Rutledge. It says he's a doctor.'
'And I'm the Pope,' the first agent muttered, removing a set of handcuffs from his back pocket. 'On your feet, both of you. Jill, pat 'em down.'
'I'm telling you,' Matt said desperately, as his left wrist was shackled to Ellen's right, 'we have to get down there before they go off the air.'
'Shut up!' The agent turned to the other two. 'Well?'
Jill lifted the two-way radio from her hip.
'Bert, it's Jill. How much longer of a delay before they get the show going?'
'Delay?' Ellen asked.
'I said, shut up!'
'Alan, Bert says ten more minutes,' Jill said to the black agent.
The man sighed.
'Tell him we're bringing down two party crashers for him to talk to. The sooner we get this out of our hands and into his, the better.'
'Thank you,' Ellen said, utterly relieved. 'You're doing the right thing.'
'Why does that sound to me like Find another job?'
'Have they given the shot yet?' Ellen risked asking.
'No, they haven't even gotten on the air.'
'What happened?'
'What happened is, some wacko got in there dressed as an electrician. He used a pair of electrician's shears and cut the pool feed cable from the camera inside the clinic to the truck that transmits the signal to all the networks. We've been on delay for forty-five minutes now. But I think the cable's just about been replaced.'
'Then, hurry,' Matt said. 'Get us to one of Mrs. Marquand's people before they give that shot, and I promise you, you'll be heroes.'
'You better be right.'
With an agent on either side of them, and a sizable crowd jeering from tenement windows, Ellen and Matt were led down the sidewalk, toward the clinic.
'I can't believe we're going to make it,' Matt said.
'I told you not to give up.'
'No, that was me. I told you.'
Ellen turned to Jill.
'Do you have any idea why the man cut the cable?'
'Like Alan said, he's a wack-job. Listen, in case you couldn't tell, we're not having a good day. If you're juicin' us about who you are or this vaccine, we're gonna cuff you to the same tree he's huggin' and leave all three of you there overnight to sample the hospitality of the neighborhood.'
The agent gestured to their right, where the culprit stood, his arms shackled around a good-sized oak.
Ellen grinned as they hurried past him toward the gleaming health center.
Rudy waved with his fingertips.
'Hey, Rudy,' she called out, 'this is my new friend, Matt Rutledge. Matt, this is my… significant other, Rudy Peterson.'
Just as they reached the clinic, a couple emerged. The woman was cradling an infant in her arms, holding her so that the child was bathed in the warm afternoon sun. Behind her, just inside the door, Matt could see what looked like more Secret Service people. At the sight of the two of them, handcuffed together, the couple took a wary step backward.
'Hi,' Ellen said cheerily, her smile threatening to escape the bounds of her face. 'Is this the baby who's going to get the vaccination?'
'Yes,' Sherrie replied, glancing down lovingly at her child. 'Her name's Donelle.'
CHAPTER 38
Late afternoon shadows were stretching across the streets of D.C. when Matt finally fired up the Harley and headed back toward West Virginia. He was riding alone. Ellen and Rudy remained behind to answer more questions from the FBI and to review the evidence Rudy had brought into the city with him. The progression from the Secret Service agent in charge of security at the clinic to his counterpart on Lynette Marquand's staff to Marquand herself had been rapid.
There had simply been too much at stake for anyone to delay.
