Windmills of the Gods

McKinney said, “I can arrange for Beth and Tim to be spirited out of the residence and taken here under escort.”

Mary looked at Mike for a long time. Finally she spoke. “How does a Judas goat dress?”

Chapter Eleven

There was a tremendous feeling of excitement in the air. Hundreds of curious Remanians had gathered outside the residence, which was ringed with huge spotlights that lit up the sky. The crowd was kept in order by a detachment of American MPs and Remanian police. Plain clothes men mingled with the multitude, looking for anything suspicious. Some of them moved around with trained police dogs that were sniffing for explosives.

The press coverage was enormous. There were photographers and reporters from a dozen countries. They had all been carefully checked and their equipment searched before they were allowed to’enter the residence.

“A cockroach couldn’t sneak into this place tonight,” the marine officer in-charge of security boasted.

IN THE storage room the marine corporal was getting bored watching the person in army fatigues filling up the balloons. He pulled out a cigarette and started to light it.

Angel yelled, “Put that out!”

The corporal looked up, startled. “What’s the problem? You’re filling those with helium, aren’t you? Helium doesn’t burn.”

“Put it out! Colonel McKinney said no smoking here.”

Grumbling, the corporal put out the cigarette.

Angel watched to make sure there were no sparks left, then turned back to the task of filling each balloon from a different cylinder.

It was true that helium did not burn, but the cylinders were not filled with helium. The first tank was filled with propane, the second tank with white phosphorus, and the third with an oxygen-acetylene mix. Angel had left just enough helium in each tank to make the balloons rise.

Angel was filling the white balloons with propane, the red balloons with oxygen-acetylene, and the blue balloons with white phosphorus. When the balloons were exploded, the white phosphorus would act as an incendiary for the initial gas discharge, drawing in oxygen so that all breath would be sucked out of the body of anyone within fifty yards. The phosphorus would instantly turn to a hot, scaring molten liquid, falling on every person in the room. The thermal effect would destroy the lungs and throat, and the blast would flatten an area of a square block.

It’s going to be beautiful, Angel thought.

Angel straightened up and looked at the colorful balloons floating against the ceiling of the storage room. “I am finished.”

“Okay.” The corporal called four marine guards who were stationed in the ballroom itself.. “Help me get these balloons out there.”

One of the guards opened wide the doors to the ballroom, which was already crowded with guests. The room had been decorated with American flags and red, white, and blue streamers. At the far end was a raised’stand for the band.

“It’s a lovely room,” Angel said, thinking, In one hour it will be filled with burned corpses. “Could I take a picture of it?”

The corporal shrugged. “Why not? Let’s go, fellas.”

The marines pushed past Angel and started shoving the inflated balloons into the ballroom. “Easy,” Angel warned. “Easy.”

“Don’t worry,” a marine called. “We won’t break your precious balloons.”

Angel stood in the doorway, staring at the riot of colors ascending in a rising rainbow, and smiled. One thousand of the lethal little beauties nestled against the ceiling. Angel took a camera from a pocket and stepped into the ballroom.

“Heyl You’re not allowed in here,” the corporal said.

“I just want to take a picture to show my daughter.”

I’ll bet that’s some looking daughter, the corporal thought sardonically. “All right. But make it quick.”

Angel glanced across the room. Ambassador Mary Ashley was entering with her two children. Angel grinned. Perfect timing.

When the corporal turned his back, Angel quickly set the camera down under a cloth-covered table. The automatic timing device was set for a one-hour delay. Everything was ready.

Five minutes later Angel was outside the residence, strolling down Alexandru Sahia Street.

BEFORE the party began, Mary had taken the children upstairs.

She felt she owed them the truth.

They sat listening, wide-eyed, as Mary explained what had been happening and what might be about to happen.

“You’ll be taken out of here, where you’ll be safe,” she said.

“But what about you?” Beth asked. “Can’t you come with us?”

“No, darling. Not if we want to catch this man.”

Tim was trying not to cry. “How do you know they’ll catch him?” Mary thought about that a moment, and said, “Because Mike Slade said so.” Okay, fellas?”

Beth and Tim looked at each other. They were both whitefaced, terrified. Mary’s heart went out to them. They’re too young to have to go through this, she thought.

Fifteen minutes later Mary, Beth, and Tim entered the ballroom. They walked across the floor, greeting guests, trying to conceal their nervousness. When they reached the other side of the room, Mary turned to the children. “You have to get up very early tomorrow, ” she said loudly. “Back to your rooms.”

The moment the children left the ballroom, they were escorted to the service entrance by Colonel McKinney. He said to the two armed marines waiting at the door, “Take them to the embassy.

Don’t let them out of your sight.”

Mike Slade watched them leave, then went to find Mary.