“I am hoping trouble is over.”
Floyd Riffey checked the clock: Eleven AM. He looked everywhere for a weapon, something with which to kill the Muslim maniac in the room. There was nothing. Kitchen knives were in a drawer, and Asadullah watched it from his chair at the kitchen counter. Pete and Laura talked to the killer now, showing little fear. Asadullah complimented them, asked the right questions to allay their worries, and assured them he meant the two no harm. Riffey knew it was a lie. He would murder them and leave no witnesses; it was what Asadullah did. Until then, he would toy with his Christian victims.
Asadullah asked, “How long have you lived in Presidio?”
Pete said, “Forty-two years. We both came down as teachers, fell in love with the people and the desert.”
“And each other,” Laura said. “We met here the first day of school. We married that summer.”
Asadullah smiled, “What a wonderful story. That is the way romances should be.”
They continued to talk, and Riffey grew increasingly nervous. He glanced at the clock again and saw it was eleven forty-five. Asadullah turned to him and said, “You should relax. Everything will be fine. Trust me.”
At eleven-fifty, Asadullah asked the Lermas, “I understand there is a large ceremony today at your Activities Center.”
Pete said, “There is. Starts at noon, I think.”
“Can you see the building from here? I have heard nice things about it.”
“You can look through the picture window and see it.”
“Excellent.” He walked across the room and opened the curtains, revealing a clear, four-foot by six-foot glass window. “Ah,” he said, “There it is.”
***
Sheriff Danny Montoya arrived at the Activities Center at eleven AM, and by eleven-fifteen, people started coming in, shaking his hand and seating themselves. By eleven forty the room was packed, leaving only standing room. People continued to come in, crowding together. The air conditioners fought to keep the room cool, but it was stuffy, and Danny felt a trickle of sweat run out of his hatband and down a sideburn. He wiped it away with a finger and checked his wristwatch. Not long now.
The Governor and the Commissioner of Homeland Security arrived with their entourages at eleven-fifty. The Governor led the way and the group went straight to the podium and their respective chairs. They nodded at people, but did not stop to shake hands.
Danny looked around, trying to spot Hunter, but didn’t see her in the crowd. A rancher from Marfa was seated beside him, and he asked, “Have you seen Hunter Kincaid?”
“No, I didn’t. I thought she would be here, after what you two did.”
“So did I.”
“She may be running late.”
“Probably. Thanks.”
“Sure thing, Sheriff.”
Danny liked that. It made him feel that this was all real. He took one more look at the crowd, and then turned to face the podium. It was time. He took a deep breath to relax. The Presidio Mayor stepped to the microphone and thanked the audience for coming. He introduced the Governor and the other dignitaries. When he finished, the Governor stepped to the microphone.
***
Asadullah stared out the big window, watching the Activities Center and occasionally checking his watch.
Riffey was so scared and nerve-wracked that it felt like his hair was standing on end. Asadullah shifted position, exposing his back to the captives. Rif
fey glanced at the kitchen clock. There is no time! He had to do something. Right now.
Riffey lifted one of the tall chairs at the kitchen counter and pointed the legs at the terrorist, then ran at him as hard and fast as he could.
The woman gasped. Asadullah turned as Riffey rammed him. The metal chair legs punched into his chest and face, knocking him into the window with a shattering sound of breaking glass.
Asadullah crashed through the window backwards, with Riffey shoving hard to push the terrorist out into open air. As he fell, Asadullah drew his pistol and snapped a shot at Riffey.
Riffey jerked back but not before he felt the bullet strike his ear and send a giant hornet sting into the side of his head.