The NYPD Commander looks at me. He's wearing at least two layers of kevlar. He could get hit with a bullet form a 9mm and be okay. A bit winded.
I'm wearing a suit and tie.
"Sir, it's not safe," he says to me. "The situation is tense. They could take you out without cover."
He's right.
National Guard snipers operating under orders from Kate would have a clear shot to my head. Be able to take me the fuck out. Call me an enemy combatant. Be absolutely justified.
But that's when the second protester rushes through.
I know, the police did everything they could to detain the crowds. They put up pickets. Chain link fences on streets. Barricades.
But give me a break.
This is Times Square. In New York fucking City. 8 million fucking people.
"You're gonna have to kill me too, motherfucker!" the protester yells and I can see tension ripple through the National Guardsmen.
What the fuck is Kate doing letting them still maintain battle readiness? This is the most fucking irresponsible thing I've ever seen. They're so wired up they could snap at any moment now.
Start something tragic. And Amy. Caught right in the middle.
No.
This is my fucking city.
I'm not gonna let that happen.
"Outta my fucking way," I say to the officer and push my way past.
I can see the soldiers twitch. I can see Kate standing there.
"There!" she yells, and a National Guard Commander trains his gun.
I look down at my chest.
Yep.
The red dot of the laser pointer. Right on my heart.
Whatever. Do I look like I care?
I keep walking, one step in front of another. Guns trained on me.
I get to a car parked on the curb and get on top of it.
I need to do something now. Before more protesters come.
"Put me on," I say into my phone and there's a whine of a microphone to my right.
Soldiers, protesters, even NYPD look to my right.
"Susan?" Kate says, puzzled and angry. "What are you doing here."
"She's holding a speaker, Kate," I say into the phone and hear my voice echo through the wireless loudspeaker that Susan Duran is setting up on the sidewalk.
That's right.