“Boone, it’s Vanessa, do you copy?” Vanessa touched the Bluetooth.
“Copy, go ahead,” Boone said.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Toward the front of the crowd, near the stage. Why?”
“I’ve spotted another suspect. But I’ve lost Uly. The crowd is really thick here. This guy is a little more on guard. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get close enough to—hold on.”
There was silence for a moment.
“Vanessa?” Boone said. X-Ray cut in.
“Boone! This is X-Ray. I just got a call from Angela. She’s inbound with Q and that sheriff you met earlier. She says the target is the Alamo Memorial. The cenotaph.”
“I thought you told them to stay!” Boone yelled.
“I did! But they’re coming anyway. I’m moving the intellimobile next to the cenotaph and I’m going to cut all phone signals in that immediate area. You better get back here!”
“Boone, it’s Vanessa. Our suspect just pulled something out of his pocket. Looks like some kind of modified phone. He’s east of your location, about two hundred fifty yards from the monument. I don’t see Uly. I need a body catcher! If I take him out, the crowd could panic. Boone, what do I do?”
“Felix, can you see anything?” Boone asked, moving toward Vanessa’s position. “Do you have a shot?”
“Negative. I can’t be sure which man she’s eyeballing,” Felix said.
“Vanessa, take him. Take him now, as soon as you can! Don’t let him use that gadget!”
Boone had been standing beside a tree with a trash bin beside it, the stage to his back. In the next instant he appeared behind Vanessa’s target, just as her knife landed in the center of the man’s back. Boone removed the knife and, much like Uly did, relieved the man of his phone and drag-walked him to a nearby bench. The man was wearing a dark windbreaker. Luckily, the bloodstain growing on his back was not readily visible. Boone sat him down and checked his pulse to make certain he was gone.
Uly appeared out of the crowd and stood next to Boone.
“I was inside the radius where X-Ray shut down the phones. My headset lost contact,” he said.
“No worries. It had to be done this way,” Boone said. Vanessa joined them at the bench.
“Now what?” she said.
“You heard X-Ray,” Boone said. “Fill in Uly on the way to the cenotaph. Keep a sharp eye. Felix, Uly and Vanessa will try to identify any targets so stay ready. We may need you. Let’s move. We’ve got a bomb to find,” he said.
They arrived at the memorial plaza a few moments later. Most of the crowd had moved toward Bonham Street, nearer the Alamo, but there were still far too many people near the target.
“We’ve got to think of a way to clear some of these people out of here without starting a panic,” Boone said into the Bluetooth. “The last thing we want is a stampede where everyone gets crushed.”
Off in the distance, parked along Alamo Memorial Boulevard near the cenotaph, they could see the intellimobile with the antenna array extended. Boone knew X-Ray was jamming all phone signals, but he still worried about the drivers detonating the bomb manually.
“What are we going to do?” Vanessa asked. “We can’t have Felix fire a couple of warning shots. That will panic everyone.”
“I got an idea,” Uly said. He tore off his shirt. Like Felix, Uly had been in a lot of scrapes during his time in the CIA, DEA, and Delta Force. His thickly muscled back and chest were covered with scars that made him look like he’d taken on three grizzly bears in a wrestling match and come out on the short end.
Uly mussed his hair and started trotting around in circles, bumping into bystanders while shouting at the top of his lungs, “Who wants to fight? Anybody want to try me? I got a hundred dollars says nobody in this crowd can last more than ten seconds with me! I’ll fight you with one hand!” He looked like a wild man, and he slurred his words like a drunk. He started shadowboxing while the crowd around the plaza looked on in confusion and then, as he’d planned, in fear.
“Come on! Who wants a piece of me? I can take you all on! I’ll fight anybody!”
The effect was immediate and people moved quickly away from the madman. In less than a minute nearly a third of them had migrated toward the safety of the crowd nearer the stage.
“Vanessa, you watch the street. If the cenotaph is the target, they’re coming down Alamo Memorial Boulevard. Felix, you be ready. If they’re approaching along Houston we’re going to need you,” Boone said. He said into the Bluetooth, “X-Ray, do you have eyes on Angela and Q or the SUV yet?”
“Negative, but I was just about to tell you, Boone: Somebody just took down all the traffic cams again. I’m trying to hack in and get them back up but it’s happening. They’ve got to be close!”
The three headed back toward the intersection of Houston Street and Alamo Memorial Boulevard. Boone had a feeling the terrorists would choose the easiest path to the target and this was it. Even with the street closed to through traffic they could crash through the barricades and have an unimpeded path to the cenotaph.
“Boone!” Vanessa shouted.
Boone spun at her shout and saw her pointing toward a white SUV accelerating up Houston Street. It was careening back and forth through the traffic and people in the street scattered and ran as it rolled along.
Boone heard Uly shouting, “Down, down, everybody down!” He lost track of Vanessa, because all of his attention was now focused on a sheriff’s car that was accelerating toward the Tahoe from the opposite direction.
It was on a collision course.