Ventura weighed his chances. This was it. He had assessed the
situation as best he could. As soon as he handed over the disk, he was
a dead man anyway. Smith couldn't -let him walk away and expect to
sleep nights, because sooner or later, he'd know that Ventura would
come for him. And a wire enclosure full of men playing soldier
wouldn't be enough protection. Smith knew that. The only reason he
didn't shoot him now was to make sure he had the data, and to find out
what he could about it.
Here was the moment. No past. No future. Be here now.
He smiled and made his decision. The only one he could make.
'All right. General. We'll play it your way--' --but as fast as he
could move, Ventura ducked and grabbed for his pistol-
Wednesday, June 15th Port Townsend, Washington
As it sometimes did when things turned violently dangerous, time
narrowed and slowed. Michaels saw Ventura disappear from sight, and
the blast of the shotgun was a tremendous boom! immediately after
that-Bubba fired his pistol, a thin and almost quiet crack!
crack! and two holes appeared in the truck's windshield-Somehow,
amazed at himself, Michaels found himself on his feet, running toward
the shooting, his tiny, insignificant taser stretched out in front of
himself at arm's length-Ventura's hand came up inside the truck like a
periscope, a pistol in it, and he fired at the shot gunner twisted, and
fired at Bubba--blam! blam!--that quick-The shot gunner went down, hit
in the body, but Bubba had dodged as soon as Ventura's pistol came up,
and he fired his own gun wildly, six--eight?--times; it sounded almost
like a full-auto, one continuous crackcrackcrack-crack! and it must
have run empty because it stopped-Ventura sat up, and he shoved his
pistol toward the shot gunner but the man rolled and came up and
pointed the shotgun at Ventura again and fired-Michaels saw Ventura
take the blast in the chest and bang into the steering wheel, but he
managed to get off another shot that seemed to hit the shot gunner
without major effect. The shot gunner let go a third blast-Ventura
disappeared from view-- * Michaels realized he was screaming, as the
shot gunner turned his head and stared at him in surprise. He started
to bring the shotgun around, and it was too far for a taser shot, but
Michaels triggered the thing anyway. Twin silvery needles lanced at
the shot gunner--he could see the electric darts--but they hit the
shotgun, one in the butt, one in the forestock, and that wouldn't do
shit-The shotgun's muzzle came around, slowly... slowly ... and it was
almost lined up when the shooter realized Michaels was about to barrel
into him at a dead run, so he fired-Too soon! The blast went past
Michaels's right ear; he felt a tug and a quick burn, but that was all,
and then he slammed into the shooter at a dead run and they both went
down-The impact stunned them both, but Michaels recovered first. He
rolled up and kicked at the other man's head. He missed, but caught a
shoulder as the shot gunner tried to roll away-The shotgun was on the
street five yards down the hill.
Michaels was aware that Bubba was on the other side of the truck,
probably reloading his pistol, and that he didn't have time to fool
