Too Much Too Soon [antikvár]

INTRODUCTION The swarthy man had positioned himself three feet or so to their left. He looked utterly commonplace. So why should her attention be drawn to him ? Because, she realized, surrounding him was an aura ofwildness that set him apart from the rest of the journalists. His muscles were flexed tautly, moisture gleamed on his Levantine flesh. The pupils of his eyes were wary pinpoints fixed on Alexander. She gripped her son's arm, feeling the lean muscles, wanting to draw him away from the feral gaze, yet unable to speak. Did I have time to warn him? This fine point would haunt her the rest of her life. She saw the man's hand reach under the Dacron jacket. A movement swift, yet also incredibly predictable. And she was not surprised at the gun, a smallish pistol, the familiar and accoutrement of countless television shows. So much for all the metal detectors and security, she thought. He wants to kill Alexander____ Later, later she would wonder why, if her thoughts drifted so leisurely, she didn't have time to scream a warning. A body hurled between the gun and Alexander, moving so swiftly that in the blur she didn't realize immediately that it was Curt. Simultaneously there was a sound like a twig cracking. Curt's mouth opened, he swayed from side to side and back and forth. Hands reached out to break his fall. The frenzied crowd trapped the Captol police near the doorway, and had the assailant intended to escape he would have had a good chance in the confusion. Instead, his feet planted apart, he raised his left hand to steady his right wrist as he aimed again. The second shot cracked just before the screaming ftlled the universe. "A-a-l-e-e-x-a-a-n-d-e-e-e-r "