Lance glanced over, but ignored the command as he twisted his body to navigate between two cars and Ricky followed suit. He glanced back. The motorcyclist was stopped by traffic going the other way, clearly awaiting an opening to pursue. Suddenly a bus loomed in the far right lane, bearing down on them. Lance noted that it said Arlington Metro Express above the windshield and prayed that meant it wouldn’t stop at every corner.
He grabbed Ricky’s arm and they slammed into the sidewalk hard. Ricky knew he’d have gone sprawling if not for Lance’s firm grip on him. They spotted the two mounted officers trotting angrily toward them, and then Lance looked back at the bus. “When the bus passes, grab on to the back.”
Ricky’s thumping heart soared right up into his throat. “What? That’s crazy. I can’t do that, Lance!”
Lance looked at him hard and with determination. “Don’t worry, Ricky. I got you.” He patted his heart. By then the bus and the cops were almost on them. The bus got there first. “Now!” Lance screamed as he pushed Ricky forward and skated after him. Ricky fumbled to grab the back right corner while Lance grabbed for the left. Lance found his grip, but Ricky didn’t.
“Lance!” Ricky called as the bus began pulling ahead without him.
Clinging to the side of it, Lance shouted, “C’mon, you can do this!”
Ricky pounded along, his right leg already throbbing at the calf from the hard kicking against asphalt. The bus slowed suddenly in traffic and Ricky was there, flailing outward with his hands and just finding purchase before the bus continued forward.
The mounted police started after them, but then Lance spotted Ryan and the others running up to them. At that point, there must have been a break in the traffic because the bus picked up speed. Lance’s wheels rattled and rumbled along the pavement and he looked across at Ricky’s terrified expression. He tried for a smile. “Just like the X Games, huh?”
Ricky didn’t smile back. “Fuck the X Games!” he shot back, clinging desperately to the accelerating bus and fighting to stay atop his wobbling board.
That’s when Lance saw the motorcycle speed across the traffic to their side of the road in pursuit.
†††
Ryan flashed his badge at the two cops. “Federal agent. Call for back up. Sir Lance and Sir Ricky are under attack. And we need to commandeer your horses.”
The two officers, clad in standard police attire, sat atop their brown horses looking bewildered. “No way. We can pursue.”
Ryan shook his head and pointed at Kai and Dakota, barely winded from their frantic run across six lanes of traffic. “These two are better. Now off!”
The officers did not comply.
“Do I need to call the president direct?” Ryan asked angrily, flashing his badge once more.
The two officers looked at one another and then reluctantly dropped down from their mounts.
Ryan turned to Dakota and Kai. “Go!”
Without hesitation, each boy grabbed a horse by the reins and leapt deftly up into the saddle. The other four motorcycles had now whipped into traffic and were pursuing Lance and Ricky. Dakota and Kai instantly spurred the animals into a gallop after them.
Ryan spotted the limo finally pulling up near the entrance to the monuments on the opposite side of the street. He whipped his head around to the officers. “That back up, now! And block this traffic so we can make a U-turn.” Then he turned to the others. “C’mon!”
Edwin looked totally flustered, but the others didn’t hesitate. As one officer got on his radio, the other stepped out into traffic waving his arms, gradually slowing the cars in both directions. Ryan and his group pelted across the street and jumped into the waiting limo. This time Ryan sat up front with the driver. “U-turn, now! Follow those horses!”
The driver didn’t wait to be told twice. He peeled away from the curb and spun the wheel sharply, tossing everyone in back onto each other and almost onto the floor. Then the massive car was around the uniformed cop and heading in the same direction as Lance and Ricky.
“Reyna,” Ryan said, whipping his head around to her. “Get Techie on the line. Have him activate the trackers in Lance and Ricky’s phones. And have him tell Arthur.”
Then he spun back around, his own gun out and his window lowered. Merlin had been right after all, and he’d been caught with his pants down. Shit!
†††
Everyone had gone to lunch but Techie. He sat alone in the Computer Lab coordinating when and how Arthur would visit a number of neighborhoods throughout Los Angeles where his knights, in conjunction with Mayor Soto, had been putting interventions in place. With Reyna gone, that job seemed to have fallen into his already cluttered lap. And he wanted to finish early so he could meet Ariel and go to the movies. But that was before his phone rang and he saw Reyna’s picture pop up.
“Hey, Reyna, how’s––”
“Quick, Techie, activate Lance and Ricky’s trackers,” her voice bellowed over the phone, cutting him off. “And tell Arthur.”
“On it!” he said instantly, tapping keys on his computer and activating the satellite tracking feature in the boys’ phones. Almost simultaneously, he put Reyna on hold and speed dialed Arthur. As the satellite map of Washington came up on his screen, he heard Arthur’s voice over the phone speaker.
“Yes, Sir Techie.”
“Arthur, get down to the lab. The guys are in trouble.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath. “On my way.”
Then he took Reyna off hold. Leaving the phone beside his keyboard, his fingers raced over the keys, attempting to triangulate on the boys’ location. “They’re on 23rd Street NW, Reyna, heading toward the Arlington Memorial Bridge.”
†††
In the limo, Reyna leaned forward toward the open window separating her from the driver. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, ma’am, I got it,” the man replied and focused on weaving through the traffic on Constitution Avenue.
“Are we close?” Ryan asked the driver, gun out his window. He could see the motorcycles just ahead in traffic, cutting between the cars, but Dakota and Kai galloped in between the cars in pursuit of the attackers and blocked any shot Ryan might have had.
“Yes, sir,” the driver informed Ryan in a surprisingly calm voice. “It’s the next street over.”
As though confirming the man’s words, the motorcyclists turned left at the light, the two horses galloping desperately after them. Traffic was paralyzed by the sight of the cyclists and the horses, and people simply stopped their cars to gawk. The limo driver had to keep honking steadily, and Ryan leaned out the window screaming, “Out of the way! Police business!”
Cars attempted to pull to the side, but slowly. Ryan wished he had a siren.
As though reading his mind, Esteban handed over his phone. “I got me a siren app, Sergeant. You want?”
“Hell yeah! Can you sync it to the car stereo?”
Esteban shrugged. “Can I, driver?”
The driver punched a couple of buttons on the dashboard. “Now you can.”
Esteban synced his phone, opened the siren app and cranked the volume. The driver turned up the stereo system full blast, and a strident imitation of a police siren ripped through the car and almost deafened everyone.
“Windows down!” Ryan commanded, and all windows quickly lowered.
Justin eyed Edwin. The man had turned white with fear and looked like he might vomit. “You okay, man?”
Edwin nodded, but still clutched at his seat belt with white-knuckled intensity.
With their windows down and the blasting siren audible to surrounding motorists, the cars began to scurry out of the way with greater speed. Still, Ryan noted, the bus carrying his boys had long since turned out of sight, and the enemy, as well.
†††
Lance and Ricky had their knees bent as they clung to the sides of the bus and fought to keep their boards level beneath their feet. As the bus swung on to Lincoln Memorial Circle and curved aro
und behind the monument, Lance kept his head pressed against the rear corner of the bus to keep at least half of Ricky’s terrified face in his line of sight. Ricky’s hair flew every which way as the wind yanked the beanie right off his head. It sailed lazily back into traffic and the boy gazed wide-eyed at Lance.
“I got you, Ricky!” Lance called over the wind and road noise. His long hair whipped around in his face frenetically––he’d lost his own beanie when the bus had taken the sharp left off Constitution. It hadn’t seemed windy before, but then they hadn’t been going thirty miles per hour before.
Then Lance saw the cycles, and the men in black riding them. They were five or six car lengths back, but weaving in and out of traffic. The closest one raised his right arm, and fired the nail gun.
Lance nearly lost his grip as a nail tore through the rear of the bus near the taillight. And then Lance spotted Dakota and Kai, galloping fiercely between the cars, holding the reins and simultaneously reaching for their bows.
†††
Dakota had pulled ahead of Kai as they galloped headlong through the traffic in pursuit of the attacking cyclists. He knew he could fire an arrow effectively from horseback, but wasn’t certain about Kai. His Native brother had honed his skills at New Camelot these past few months, but other than that one frantic ride through Griffith Park had not been on a horse since. Thus, Dakota knew it would likely be up to him to take these guys out at this stage of the pursuit.
As they turned left at the green light, oncoming cars screeched to a halt or swerved violently to avoid colliding with the motorcycles and the pursuing horses. Just the sight of two Indians, hair streaming, feathers flying, caused mass confusion amongst the motorists. Tourists along the sidewalks, however, seemed awed by the display, holding out their phones and filming the chase. All of this Dakota became of aware of peripherally while gazing intently ahead at the closest motorcycle to him. Further beyond, heading toward a bridge, he could see the massive Metro bus dragging his two brothers along with it.
Spurring his horse forward, Dakota flung back his arm and snatched his bow from around his back. The other hand flew back and plucked an arrow from his quiver. Holding the reins in his clenched teeth, Dakota raised his bow arm and pulled back on the arrow. He saw one cyclist fire at Lance, and miss. Just as the bus started out over the six-lane bridge, Dakota saw the second motorcyclist raise his arm and the nail gun within it. Dakota squinted, took careful aim, and let his arrow fly.
The arrow sailed out and over the intervening cars, past the other cyclists and struck the one with the gun square in the back. The arrow bounced right off without piercing the man’s heavy jacket, but the rider did flinch and it threw off his aim. The gun fired, a nail sailing over the railing into the Potomac.
Now the cyclist furthest back turned on his bike and fired randomly. The nail missed Dakota by a wide margin, but must’ve struck an oncoming car behind him because he heard the screech of brakes and then a crunch of metal against metal. He hunched down his head against the horse’s neck and glanced over at Kai, who eyed him right back, also crouching low. Kai dodged a light post and galloped onto the sidewalk, scattering the gawking tourists as he did. Dakota kept straight up the middle of the bridge, straddling traffic in either direction as he zeroed in on the guy who’d shot at him.
He surmised they must be wearing some kind of armor under their jackets so arrows would not penetrate. He raised his arms again and took careful aim at the back tire of the closest cyclist to him. It was mostly covered with a metal frame, but there was a small area of exposure where the rubber could be seen spinning. He let loose the arrow and it sailed forward between two cars to plunge deep into the exposed portion of tire. Suddenly the cycle went wildly out of control, spun and swerved. The driver tried to keep it straight, but the loss of his back tire caused the bike to careen up onto the sidewalk, almost ramming Kai who was fast approaching. But the Navajo jerked his reins to the left and the bike sailed past him to slam into the stone fence designed to keep pedestrians from falling into the river. The impact pitched the rider forward over the handlebars and over the wall into the Potomac below.
†††
Lance and Ricky desperately clung to the bus, their arm muscles already tiring from holding on to the uneven rear corners, which were slippery and didn’t provide much area to grip. In addition, their legs trembled with fatigue from holding the boards taut beneath them. Lance saw Dakota take out the first guy’s aim, and then send the second into the river. But horses were no match for motorcycles, he knew, and neither was this clunky-ass bus! They had to find a place to hide!
Once over the bridge, the bus approached a large stone structure. Lance was able to crane his head around and catch a glimpse of the massive circular stone wall that looked like part of a castle. The bus swung onto a road that would circumnavigate this structure, the motorcycles and Indians in hot pursuit. He turned back and spotted one of the cyclists taking aim at Ricky. “Ricky, duck!”
Ricky did, without hesitation, squatting down so far he felt sure he’d lose his grip and go spinning off into traffic. A thunk struck the metal right where his head had just been and he looked up to see a ghastly looking nail protruding from the silver siding of the bus. He trembled with terror, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He was adequate on a board, but he was no skater like Lance and felt certain he’d topple off any minute. He peeked around the corner of the bus at Lance, who grinned with intense relief, and then he slowly raised his head as the bus swung around in a circle and nearly dislodged him.
He glanced back at the pursuing cyclist as Dakota let loose another arrow. This one struck the rider in the leg, but it bounced harmlessly off. It did distract him, however, and he quickly lowered the nail gun to steady the suddenly wobbling bike.
“Lance!” Ricky shouted in desperation. “What’re we gonna do?”
Lance flicked a look back toward the front of the bus as a sign came into view: Arlington National Cemetery. Two massive wrought iron gates stood open before them, but everyone was walking through them. Another bus had stopped, and there was some kind of station ahead, too, with a train disgorging passengers.
Lance looked back across at Ricky. “We’ll lose ’em in the cemetery! Get ready to let go on my signal.”
Ricky’s face collapsed into a look of horror. “Let go?”
Lance locked eyes on those of the other boy. “I got you, Ricky!”
As the bus began slowing to a stop, Lance shouted, “Now!” And he let go. The forward momentum kept him speeding forward, but he couldn’t see Ricky on the other side of the Metro bus. Frantically, he kicked and pushed until he was around the front, startling the driver who gawked out the window at him. And suddenly there was Ricky, kicking and pushing, not so steady as Lance, but alive and safe. Lance’s pounding heart almost missed a beat, and he released his breath.
“C’mon, Ricky, follow me!”
Dodging tourists right and left, the two boys pressed their way forward, hearing the revving of the motorcycle engines closing in from behind. They bounded through the gates as a guard shouted, “Hey, you can’t skate in there!”
And then the four remaining cyclists plowed their way through the scattering, screaming crowd and barreled through the gates. “Hey!” the guard shouted again.
Before he could even lift his radio to call for help, Dakota and Kai were on him, pounding hooves causing the man to turn and gape in astonishment. The boys galloped past without a word and this time the stupefied man didn’t even try to protest. He just stared a moment in bewildered surprise, and then raised the radio to his mouth.
†††
The siren helped the limo driver scare off some of the cars blocking his path, but it was a bright summer day and tourists abounded, especially those trying to visit Arlington, and the going was hit and miss. The driver must’ve been former military, Ryan decided, because he deftly twisted the wheel and weaved the enormous vehicle in and around other cars, even swerving into th
e oncoming traffic lanes when an opening presented itself.
In the backseat, Reyna, Esteban and Justin were all crouched like panthers at every open window, bows and arrows at the ready, while Edwin looked like he might be sick at any moment from the jostling of the car. Ryan had his gun out the passenger window as the limo started over the bridge. He saw Dakota send the one attacker over into the drink with his arrow, but the boys on their horses were blocking any shot he might have had. Frustrated, he bided his time as he watched the bus head into Arlington.
“Reyna,” he barked, “anything from Techie?”
Now Reyna lowered her bow and snatched up the phone. “Techie? You have ’em?”
†††
In the Computer Lab, a tense Arthur and a terrified Jenny stood behind Techie gazing intently at his screen. A map of Arlington National Cemetery filled his screen, and two moving dots sped along one of the pathways. He whipped his phone up to make sure he was heard.
“They’re in the cemetery, on one of the pathways,” he said breathlessly, his own heart thumping with dread.
Arthur placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and the boy sighed fearfully.
†††
Reyna looked up at Ryan. “Did you hear that?”
He turned to the driver.
“No can do, sir,” the driver responded regretfully. “No cars allowed in Arlington.”
Ryan cursed. “Get us right up to the gate, even if you have to plow through the tourists to do it.”
“Yes, sir.” The man kept his eyes focused on the road ahead, suddenly executing a neck-snapping move into the oncoming traffic lane. Ryan held his breath as an SUV bore down on them. Then, just as it looked like they’d all be killed, the driver swung the wheel sharply to the right and moved them back into the proper lane, having passed two cars in the process. If I survive, Ryan thought, I’ll have to ask the president to give this guy a medal.
They were off the bridge now and onto the road leading into the cemetery. Just ahead stood the wrought iron gates, a wildly agitated crowd of tourists and the flustered security guard. The limo screeched to a halt and Ryan was out before it even stopped. He ran to the guard, the knights close on his heels. Ryan flashed his badge.
And The Children Shall Lead Page 29
