'Listen,' said Monica. 'This is a police emergency. I need to go down that concourse with this man, and I need you to notify the airport police right now that ... '
'I have to scan him,' said the rotund man, waving a handheld scanner toward Puggy.
'Did you hear me, for God's sake?' shouted Monica. 'I said we have an emergency down there. We have a hostage sit—'
'AND I SAID I HAVE TO SCAN HIM,' replied the rotund man, brandishing the scanner in Monica's face. Rules were rules.
'Scan this,' said Monica, yanking the scanner from his grasp and flinging it over her shoulder. She shoved past the rotund man, dragging Puggy behind her.
'Hey!' said the rotund man. 'Hold it! You can't ... HEY!'
'Excuse me,' said Eliot, coming through the metal detector and pushing past the rotund man, followed closely by Anna, Matt, and Nina. 'We're with them.'
'STOP!' shouted the rotund man, trying unsuccessfully to block this renegade group. 'SECURITY!'
'SECURITY!' chorused the X-ray woman, and the stern woman at the end of the conveyor belt, and the other checkpoint workers. 'SECURITY! SECURITY!'
There was an officer assigned to this checkpoint: His name was Ralph Pendick, and he happened to be the older, but not a whole lot smarter, brother of Jack Pendick, the man who earlier that evening had alertly foiled the attempted squirting of Jenny Herk by firing bullets randomly in a parking lot. Ralph Pendick's orders were to remain at the security checkpoint at all times, and he had tried mightily to comply with these orders when he first heard, on his walkie-talkie, about the trouble down at the Delta counter. He had watched, with mounting envy, as other officers ran past, headed for the action; there was never any action, here at the checkpoint. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Ralph had abandoned his post and headed for Delta, which meant there was nobody to heed the cries of the personnel at his assigned checkpoint, who were still yelling 'SECURITY!' at the rapidly receding figures of Monica, Puggy, Eliot, Matt, Anna, and Nina.
The rotund man waddled quickly over to a wall-mounted phone, grabbed the receiver, punched a code, and began shouting into it, nearly incoherent with excitement. Security had been breached! A police officer was involved! People had gotten through without being properly scanned! They could be carrying ... concealed laptops!
23:24
'You see what it is?' asked Leonard. They were at the edge of the now huge mob in front of the Delta counter.
'Nope,' said Henry, craning his neck. 'All's I see is people tryin' to see.'
'Well, fuck it,' said Leonard. 'I say we go to the counter.'
'Worth a try,' said Henry. He led the way, pushing through the crowd, which was shouting in several languages. From what snatches of English they picked up, they gathered that there were police ahead, and somebody hurt, and something crawling. As the crowd got denser, they struggled forward, Henry shoving people aside, each labored step strengthening their resolve to get ... out ... of ... this ... crazy ... fucking ... place.
As they approached the Delta counter, the crowd became almost impenetrably dense, squeezed from behind by people trying to see what was going on, and from in front by people pushing back, apparently trying to get away from something. There was a lot of shouting, the loudest coming from an area directly ahead of Henry and Leonard. Suddenly, the volume of the shouting intensified, accompanied by terrified shrieks; the crowd lunged backward violently just as Henry and Leonard pushed forward. They stumbled ahead and were suddenly in the clear, alone, surrounded by a vast ring of shouting and screaming faces. Henry caught his balance, but Leonard kept going, tripping over the pet transporter containing Pinky and Enid, who yipped and yelped in terror. Leonard pitched forward onto the floor. He groaned, then raised his head slightly and saw, on the floor two inches from his eyes ... a really long tongue.
22:58
Snake was going nuts. The minutes were ticking past, and the two zitface pilots were still up there farting around, talking into their headset microphones, and the plane was not moving. Snake kept glancing out the window toward the door to the terminal, expecting it to open. Finally, he couldn't stand it. He stood in the aisle of the plane.
'Hey!' he shouted. 'Start the fuckin' motors!' Justin, Frank, and the retirees turned, all of them glaring, until they saw the gun pointed at the cockpit.
The retirees gasped and pulled back in their seats, out of the line of fire. Justin and Frank stared at the hole in the end of the barrel, their brains frozen. Frank wet his new pilot pants.
'Start the fuckin' motors NOW,' said Snake.
'We ... we ... ' stammered Justin. 'I mean, the door. We have to close the door.'
'I'll close the fuckin' door, zitface,' said Snake. He wasn't letting anybody else get away. 'Now START THE FUCKIN' MOTORS AND FLY TO THE FUCKIN' BAHAMAS OR I BLOW BOTH YOUR FUCKIN' HEADS OFF.'
This caused three of the four retirees to wet their pants. Justin and Frank began working furiously on starting the motors. The propeller on the right side of the plane started to turn, very slowly.
'Snake,' said Eddie. He was looking out the window.
'What?' said Snake. He bent down and looked where Eddie was looking, then said, 'Shit. SHIT.'
The terminal door was open. The little punk—that motherfuther—was coming out of the building pointing the plane out to ... the lady cop. That fucking bitch.
Snake screamed at Justin and Frank, 'GET THIS FUCKIN' PLANE MOVING RIGHT NOW.' He whirled and gimped back to the airplane doorway, aimed his gun toward the lady cop, and fired a shot.
Instantly, she ducked back into the building, yanking the punk with her and closing the door.
'WHY THE FUCK AREN'T WE MOVING?' shouted Snake.
