by MF Bishop
Chapter Ninety Three
"Christ on a crutch," Bobby shouted. The second helicopter came down hard, barely one hundred feet from the Memorial. Its undercarriage collapsed and the rotors were bent, but both crew members scrambled out, one of them carrying a fire extinguisher.
The other helicopter blazed furiously. Its gunner screamed as she rolled on the ground, trying to beat out the flames that flickered on her back and arms. There was no sign of the pilot. The officer with the fire extinguisher used it. The gunner stopped burning.
"Oh, my God," she cried, "oh, my God. Harry, where's Harry." She tried to get up.
Alexa gently forced her back. "Take it easy," she said, "just take it easy."
"But Harry," the woman said wildly, "did Harry get out?"
Ammunition in the burning helicopter exploded with a staccato roar. Bobby helped Alexa and the crewmen from the other helicopter move the sobbing woman. As he turned away from the fire, Bobby was astounded to see that the space between the Water Gate and the Lincoln Memorial was filled with people; policemen, soldiers and reporters. A fire truck nosed through the crowd, followed by an ambulance. The wailing sirens drowned out the sound of the fire. A TV van was parked just north of the Memorial, and people carrying minicams pushed their way through the crowd.
Bobby and Alexa stood with Lieutenant Parsons and watched the firemen work on the burning helicopter.
"Twenty-two years on the force," Parsons said bitterly, "and it all comes down to this."
"It wasn't your fault," Alexa said, "she got past the Secret Service twice."
"A dead agent and a badly wounded agent don't make good scapegoats. A healthy police lieutenant will do just fine." Parsons walked away.
"He's probably right," Bobby said, "somebody is going to be blamed for this mess. No one will believe that Holtzman caused all this without some incompetence helping her out."
"I believe it," Alexa said.
"She did Loughlin, too, earlier tonight," Bobby said, "and some cop, she killed some cop."
"The Senator?" Alexa said slowly, "and a police officer? She killed another officer? When?"
"The Senator sometime earlier tonight, I think," Bobby repeated. "The cop, I don't know. A few weeks back, maybe. He was in the hospital. She disguised herself as a nurse."
"Jesus, Mary and all the Saints," Alexa said.
Dawn was bright in the eastern sky by the time the firemen beat down the fire around the helicopter. Alexa and Bobby walked over to the smoking wreck, where several ambulance workers were fitting the helicopter pilot into a body bag. A uniformed patrolman stopped them.
"No closer, folks, it's dangerous; there might still be unexploded ammunition in there," he said, "oh, hi, Captain Allbright, Major Britton. Hey, Major, are you really with the CIA?"
"In a manner of speaking," Bobby answered. To Alexa he said, "Why did you tell them that? I'll probably be arrested for impersonating a spook or some damn thing."
"It seemed like a good idea at the time, and anyway you are with the CIA."
"No, I'm with a CIA. There's a big difference." Bobby addressed the patrolman again. "Have they found Holtzman's body yet?"
"No sign at all. Lieutenant Parsons figures she's either under the chopper or went into the river."
"I don't think she's under there," Alexa said, "I'm sure the helicopter went down between her and where we were standing."
"Whatever," the patrolman said, "anyway, they're putting divers in the river as soon as it's completely light."
"Well," Alexa said, "I'm completely beat. I'm going to grab a couple hours of sleep before we have to show up at the office."
"I don't plan on showing up at the office," Bobby said, "I...office, office, Loughlin's office. Christ on a crutch."
"What, now what?" Alexa asked.
"Mary! I forgot about Mary. Holtzman left her in Loughlin's office." Bobby ran up the hill toward Constitution. "Where's your truck?"
Alexa broke every speed limit on the way to the Dirkson Senate Office Building, and parked by a hydrant. Bobby was already inside by the time she had turned off the engine. It took ten minutes of argument and phone calls to persuade the guards to let them into Loughlin's office. Mary was there, taped to a chair. Alexa pulled the tape off her mouth.
"Ow," she screamed, "damn you, Britton, this is all your fault. Get me loose, get me out of this."
Bobby pulled ineffectively at the tape. "Are you alright, Mary?"
"Yes, I'm alright. Untie me now, now, now, you jackass."
"We're doing the best we can," Alexa said, "you've been here most of the night. Another few minutes won't hurt."
"Yes, it will," Mary yelled, "I've got to pee so bad I'm going to explode."