Snake Eye Read Free Page A

the second part of the operation to get underway. “Okay,” McDonnel said, “this is it. Greg, come here.”
    The young man did as he was told. McDonnel told Aspee that she loved him, kissed him in spite of the vomit on his breath, and pulled back in order to look at him. He was crying. “Don’t worry, honey,” she said. “It won’t be that bad. Don’t forget what you’re supposed to do.”
    Aspee shook his head. “I won’t.”
    “Good. Larry? Are you ready?”
    Shaw grinned, took McDonnel in his arms, and stuck his tongue into her mouth. He would have gone further except that she laughed and pushed him away. “Alright,” she said, her eyes shiny with emotion, “let’s go. I’ll see you in Paradise.” It sounded believable the way she said it, as if people went to Paradise every day and you could go there on a bus.
    Aspee trudged in the direction of the door, saw Shaw push it open, and stumbled out into the cold. There were things he was supposed to say, slogans he was supposed to shout, but he couldn’t remember the words. Aspee heard a woman’s voice shout, “FBI! Stop or I’ll shoot!” and ran for the nearest bystander.
    Rossi fired, felt the Glock buck in her hand, and saw the man go down. But then the subject was up again. The bastard was wearing body armor! The FBI agent considered a head shot, but the crowd was on the move by then and a number of people were running through the area immediately behind the suspect by that time. If Rossi were to miss, or if a bullet were to pass through the suspect’s head and keep on going, a bystander could die.
    Aspee’s side hurt where the 10mm round had hit him, and although he could feel something wet running down his leg, there was no way to know whether it was urine, blood, or gasoline. The lady in front of him stood as if rooted in place, a look of terror on her face, as the terrorist closed in on her. She made a strange squeaking sound as Aspee wrapped his arms around her torso. Then, because the middle-aged office worker smelled just like his mother, he tightened the embrace.
    The push-button lamp switch, which had been duct-taped to the inside surface of Aspee’s right wrist, made a click as he pressed the button. Electricity from a pair of batteries surged through a short length of wire, and a spark was introduced into one of six bottles of gasoline strapped to the terrorist’s body. There was a gentle “whump,” as Aspee burst into flames and the woman began to burn, too. Their voices formed a gruesome harmony as they screamed in unison and danced within a cocoon of flames. McDonnel had promised Aspee that it wouldn’t hurt, thatthe cocaine would suppress the pain, but she’d been wrong.
     
    Lopa, still located a safe distance away, knew what would happen next and pulled wide to capture the action. Though disappointed by Aspee’s failure to shout at least some of the agreed-upon slogans, everything else was going well and the cell leader was pleased.
     
    Rossi pointed toward the spot where the two fiery bodies were locked together and shouted, “Smother those flames!” just as Shaw and McDonnel emerged from Rigg Hall and ran towards the crowd. Most of the bystanders turned and ran but one student tripped and fell. McDonnel screamed something incoherent as she prepared to throw herself on top of the helpless male.
    Rossi yelled, “FBI! Stop or I’ll shoot!” but it made no difference. Having learned from the first episode Rossi aimed for the terrorist’s head but missed. Then, careful to lead her target, the agent fired again. McDonnel went down. There was no way to know whether the young woman triggered the fire bombs prior to being shot, or whether the explosion was the result of an involuntary movement of her thumb, but it didn’t make much difference. Her dead body exploded into flames, fell just short of her intended victim, and lit the surrounding area with an obscene glow.
    Shaw was only twelve feet away from a campus cop by