The Laid Plans

Dana saw Wally signal. She took a deep breath, looked into the camera lens, and began.

"The bombed-out churches you see behind me are a symbol of what is happening in this country. There are no walls for people to hide behind anymore, no place that is safe. In earlier times, people could find sanctuary in their churches. But here, the past and the present and the future have all blended together and – "

At that second, she heard a shrill approaching whistle, looked up, and saw Wally’s head explode into a red melon. It’s a trick of the light, was Dana’s first thought. And then she watched, aghast, as Wally’s body slammed to the pavement. Dana stood there, frozen, unbelieving. People around her were screaming.

The sound of rapid sniper fire came closer, and Dana began to tremble uncontrollably. Hands grabbed her and rushed her down the street. She was fighting them, trying to free herself.

No! We have to go back. We haven’t used up our ten minutes. Waste not, want not…it was wrong to waste things. "Finish your soup, darling. Children in China are starving." You think you’re some kind of God up there, sitting on a white cloud? Well, let me tell you something. You’re a fake. A real God would never, never, never let Wally’s head be blown off. Wally was expecting his first grandson. Are you listening to me? Are you? Are you?

She was in a state of shock, unaware that she was being led through a back street to the car.

When Dana opened her eyes, she was in her bed. Benn Albertson and Jean Paul Hubert were standing over her.

Dana looked up into their faces. "It happened, didn’t it?" She squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"I’m so sorry," Jean Paul said. "It’s an awful thing to see. You’re lucky you weren’t killed."

The telephone jarred the stillness of the room. Benn picked it up. "Hello." He listened a moment. "Yes. Hold on." He turned to Dana. "It’s Matt Baker. Are you able to talk to him?"

"Yes." Dana sat up. After a moment, she rose and walked over to the telephone. "Hello." Her throat was dry, and it was difficult to speak.

Matt Baker’s voice boomed over the line. "I want you to come home, Dana."

Her voice was a whisper. "Yes. I want to come home."

"I’ll arrange for you to be on the first plane out of there."

"Thank you." She dropped the telephone.

Jean Paul and Benn helped her back into bed.

"I’m sorry," Jean Paul said, again. "There’s – there’s nothing anyone can say."

Tears were running down her cheeks. "Why did they kill him? He never harmed anyone. What’s happening? People are being slaughtered like animals and no one cares. No one cares!"

Benn said, "Dana, there’s nothing we can do about – "

"There has to be!" Dana’s voice was filled with fury. "We have to make them care. This war isn’t about bombed-out churches or buildings or streets. It’s about people – innocent people – getting their heads blown off. Those are the stories we should be doing. That’s the only way to make this war real." She turned to Benn and took a deep breath. "I’m staying, Benn. I’m not going to let them scare me away."

He was watching her, concerned. "Dana, are you sure you – ?"

"I’m sure. I know what I have to do now. Will you call Matt and tell him?"

He said reluctantly, "If that’s what you really want."

Dana nodded. "It’s what I really want." She watched Benn leave the room.

Jean Paul said, "Well, I had better go and let you – "

"No." For an instant, Dana’s mind was filled with a vision of Wally’s head exploding, and his body falling to the ground. "No," Dana said. She looked up at Jean Paul. "Please stay. I need you."

Jean Paul sat down on the bed. And Dana took him in her arms and held him close to her.

The following morning, Dana said to Benn Albertson, "Can you get hold of a cameraman? Jean Paul told me about an orphanage in Kosovo that’s just been bombed. I want to go there and cover it."

"I’ll round up someone."

"Thanks, Benn. I’ll go on ahead and meet you there."

"Be careful."

"Don’t worry."

Jovan was waiting for Dana in the alley.

"We’re going to Kosovo," Dana told him.

Jovan turned to look at her. "That is dangerous, madam. The only road there is through the woods, and – "

"We’ve already had our share of bad luck, Jovan. We’ll be all right."

"As you wish."

They sped through the city, and fifteen minutes later were driving through a heavily forested area.

"How much farther?" Dana asked.

"Not far. We should be there in – "

And at that moment, the Land Rover struck a land mine.

Chapter 11

As election day approached, the presidential race became too close to call.

"We’ve got to win Ohio," Peter Tager said. "That’s twenty-one electoral votes. We’re all right with Alabama – that’s nine votes – and we have Florida’s twenty-five votes." He held up a chart. "Illinois, twenty-two votes…New York, thirty-three, and California, forty-four. It’s just too damned early to call it."

Everyone was concerned except Senator Davis.

"I’ve got a nose," he said. "I can smell victory."

In a Frankfort hospital, Miriam Friedland was still in a coma.

On election day, the first Tuesday in November, Leslie stayed home to watch the returns on television. Oliver Russell won by more than two million popular votes and a huge majority of electoral votes. Oliver Russell was the president now, the biggest target in the world.

No one had followed the election campaign more closely than Leslie Stewart Chambers. She had been busily expanding her empire and had acquired a chain of newspapers and television and radio stations across the United States, as well as in England, Australia, and Brazil.