Scene 16

On the streets of Washington, D.C., near the Convention Center

We saw the car driving on an intercept course with the truck.

“Who’s that?” Ms. Wren asked.

I examined the car. It was the one we had arrived in. “Who’s in that car?” I asked over the radio.

“It’s Ryan.” Ms. Swan reported back. “He just took off without any warning.”

As we watched, the truck kept accelerating, its driver apparently unaware of Ryan. Then, just before the truck could hit the Vice President’s car, Ryan’s car crashed solidly into the side of the truck. The momentum carried both vehicles into a short wall near the intersection. The explosives in the truck, the ones meant for the Vice President, exploded in a massive fireball.

The few people near the scene scattered in panic. The Vice President’s convoy sped away.

We rushed closer, but we quickly saw that it was too late for Ryan. The explosion had enveloped both the car and the truck, killing both drivers.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” I ordered. “The police will be here soon, and it may be difficult to explain why we’re here.”

We spun around to leave the scene, but we were too late.

“Hold it!” yelled the leader of the police detail, all their guns pointed at us.