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much the better； he thought。 He'd deliberately e over after the tourist season。 Ryan did not like crowds。 The Marine Corps had taught him that； too。
〃Daddee！〃 Ryan's head snapped around to see his little daughter running toward him from behind a tree； heedless as usual of her safety。 Sally arrived with her customary thump against her tall father。 Also as usual； Cathy Ryan trailed behind； never quite able to keep up with their little white tornado。 Jack's wife did look like a tourist。 Her Canon 35mm camera was draped over one shoulder； along with the camera case that doubled as an oversized purse when they were on vacation。
〃How'd it go。 Jack？〃
Ryan kissed his wife。 Maybe the Brits don't do that in public either； he thought。 〃Great； babe。 They treated me like I owned the place。 Got all my notes tucked away。〃 He tapped his clipboard。 〃Didn't you get anything？〃 Cathy laughed。
〃The shops here deliver。〃 She smiled in a way that told him she'd parted with a fairish bit of the money they had allocated for shopping。 〃And we got something really nice for Sally。〃
〃Oh？〃 Jack bent over to look his daughter in the eye。 〃And what might that be？〃
〃It's a surprise。 Daddy。〃 The little girl twisted and giggled like a true four…year…old。 She pointed to the park。 〃Daddy； they got a lake with swans and peccalins！〃
〃Pelicans；〃 Jack corrected。
〃Big white ones！〃 Sally loved peccalins。
〃Uh…huh；〃 Ryan observed。 He looked up to his wife。 〃Get any good pictures？〃
Cathy patted her camera。 〃Oh； sure。 London is already Canonized or would you prefer that we spent the whole day shopping？〃 Photography was Cathy Ryan's only hobby； and she was good at it。
〃Ha！〃 Ryan looked down the street。 The pavement here was reddish； not black； and the road was lined with what looked like beech trees。 The Mall； wasn't it？ He couldn't remember； and would not ask his wife； who'd been to London many times。 The Palace was larger than he'd expected； but it seemed a dour building； three hundred yards away； hidden behind a marble monument of some sort。 Traffic was a little thicker here； but moved briskly。 〃What do we do for dinner？〃
〃Catch a cab back to the hotel？〃 She looked at her watch。 〃Or we can walk。〃
〃They're supposed to have a good dining room。 Still early； though。 These civilized places make you wait until eight or nine。〃 He saw another Rolls go by in the direction of the Palace。 He was looking forward to dinner； though not really to having Sally there。 Four…year…olds and four…star restaurants didn't go well together。 Brakes squealed off to his left。 He wondered if the hotel had a baby…sitting
BOOM！
Ryan jumped at the sound of an explosion not thirty yards away。 Grenade； something in his mind reported。 He sensed the whispering sound of fragments in the air and a moment later heard the chatter of automatic weapons fire。 He spun around to see the Rolls turned crooked in the street。 The front end seemed lower than it should be； and its path was blocked by a black sedan。 There was a man standing at its right front fender； firing an AK…47 rifle into the front end； and another man was racing around to the car's left rear。
〃Get down！〃 Ryan grabbed his daughter's shoulder and forced her to the ground behind a tree； yanking his wife roughly down beside her。 A dozen cars were stopped raggedly behind the Rolls； none closer than fifty feet； and these shielded his family from the line of fire。 Traffic on the far side was blocked by the sedan。 The man with the Kalashnikov was spraying the Rolls for all he was worth。
〃Sonuvabitch！〃 Ryan kept his head up； scarcely able to believe what he saw。 〃It's the goddamned IRA they're killing somebody right 〃 Ryan moved slightly to his left。 His peripheral vision took in the faces of people up and down the street； turning and staring； in each face the black circle of a shock…opened mouth。 This is really happening！ he thought； right in front of me； just like that； just like some Chicago gangster movie。 Two bastards are mitting murder。 Right here。 Right now。 Just like that。 〃Son of a bitch！〃
Ryan moved farther left； screened by a stopped car。 Covered by its front fender； he could see one man standing at the left rear of the Rolls； just standing there； his pistol hand extended as though expecting someone to bolt from the passenger door。 The bulk of the Rolls screened Ryan from the AK gunner； who was crouched down to control his weapon。 The near gunman had his back to Ryan。 He was no more than fifty feet away。 He didn't move； concentrating on the passenger door。 His back was still turned。 Ryan would never remember making any conscious decision。
He moved quickly around the stopped car； head down； keeping low and accelerating rapidly； his eyes locked on his target the small of the man's back just as he'd been taught in high school football。 It took only a few seconds to cover the distance； with Ryan's mind reaching out； willing the man to stay dumb just a moment longer。 At five feet Ryan lowered his shoulder and drove off both legs。 His coach would have been proud。
The blind…side tackle caught the gunman perfectly。 His back bent like a bow and Ryan heard bones snap as his victim pitched forward and down。 A satisfying klonk told him that the man's head had bounced off the bumper on the way to the pavement。 Ryan got up instantly winded but full of adrenaline and crouched beside the body。 The man's pistol had dropped from his hand and lay beside the body。 Ryan grabbed it。 It was an automatic of some sort he had never handled。 It looked like a 9mm Makarov or some other East Bloc military issue。 The hammer was back and the safety off。 He fitted the gun carefully in his right hand his left hand didn't seem to be working right； but Ryan ignored that。 He looked down at the man he'd just tackled and shot him once in the hip。 Then he brought the gun up to eye level and moved to the right rear corner of the Rolls。 He crouched lower still and peeked around the edge of the bodywork。
The other gunman's AK was lying on the street and he was firing into the car with his own pistol； something else in his other hand。 Ryan took a deep breath and stepped from behind the Rolls； leveling his automatic at the man's chest。 The other gunman turned his head first； then swiveled off…balance to bring his own gun around。 Both men fired at the same instant。 Ryan felt a fiery thump in his left shoulder and saw his own round take the man in the chest。 The 9mm slug knocked the man backward as though from a hard punch。 Ryan brought his own pistol down from recoil and squeezed off another round。 The second bullet caught the man under the chin and exploded out the back of his head in a wet； pink cloud。 Like a puppet with severed strings； the gunman fell to the pavement without a twitch。 Ryan kept his pistol centered on the man's chest until he saw what had happened to his head。
〃Oh； God！〃 The surge of adrenaline left him as quickly as it had e。 Time slowed back down to normal； and Ryan found himself suddenly dizzy and breathless。 His mouth was open and gasping for air。 Whatever force had been holding his body erect seemed to disappear； leaving his frame weak； on the verge of