Christopher had already reached Michelle before Tommy began his announcement. She looked quite stunned when he pulled her to her feet, then swept her up into his arms.
"Christopher, what are you doing?" she whispered.
"Just smile, honey. We have to get out of here." Michelle wrapped her arms around his shoulders and smiled as he had instructed.
She whispered, "Am I going to like this surprise?"
Christopher didn’t answer her. He strode across the altar, down the steps, and up the center aisle.
His enthusiasm made Laurant smile. Christopher was practically running. She and David, the best man, waited until Tommy had finished his announcement. Then they stood. Laurant slipped her arm through David’s and followed the bride and groom, but at a much more sedate pace.
A murmur rolled through the crowd, and it became quite noisy as the wedding guests gathered up their possessions, kicked the kneelers back, and stood up to file out of the church.
Stark couldn’t believe what he was seeing. They were leaving. No, his mind screamed. This was not acceptable. No one could leave. What surprise was the priest babbling about? Leaving early wasn’t part of the rehearsal. The grotto? Why were they going to the grotto? What had he missed? His mind was speeding now, his thoughts getting jumbled together in his mind. Not acceptable. Laurant. She was leaving too. No, No, No. She’s walking across the altar now. Tom first, then Laurant. Like he planned. But the mule, the mule had to see it happen.
The priest was speaking into the microphone again. "Those of you who are close to the side doors should go out that way. It will save time," he added.
Stark, shaking with fury, could feel his control slipping away, disintegrating, but then, just as he was about to leap to his feet and start shooting, he saw the side door open, and there he was, the mule himself, trying to get inside as the crowd was pushing out. Nicholas had finally arrived. "There now, there now, it’s all right now," he whispered. He felt like shouting with joy. He was so thrilled to see the mule, he wanted to wave to him. Good to see you, Nicholas. Yes sirree.
There was still time… show time… if he acted quickly. Swinging his rifle up, he went for his first target. "Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh," he whispered, but the thrill was so exquisite, he didn’t know if he could stop himself. He looked through the scope as he slipped his finger on the trigger. Gentle now. Gentle now. Wait for it.
Noah had just nudged the altar boys toward the side door and was turning to intercept Laurant before she reached the center aisle. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. She would leave with Tommy and him.
He was about twelve feet away from Tommy when he saw the beam of light bouncing across the wall. He instantly reacted. "Gun!" he shouted as he pulled his own weapon from his sleeve and raced toward Tommy. His attention was focused on the choir loft as he fired at the source of the light.
Nick had seen the laser beam skipping across the altar toward Tommy just as Noah shouted the warning. "Get down!" he yelled as he shoved his way through the startled crowd.
Tommy didn’t have time to react. He heard a spitting sound, and a chunk of the altar splintered into the air. One second Noah and Nick were shouting, and the next, Noah was firing his gun at the balcony as he made a diving leap at Tommy and knocked him to the floor. Noah’s head struck the edge of the marble top as they went down, and then he fell like a dead weight on top of him. Tommy pushed himself free and scrambled to get the unconscious Noah behind cover. As he struggled to pull him back, Tommy saw the blood pouring from Noah’s left shoulder.
The screams from the crowd, frantic to get out of the church, pierced the air. The aisles were crammed with hysterical men and women. Nick had his Sig Sauer in his right hand, and as he pushed forward, knocking people out of his way, he reached behind him under his jacket and pulled out the loaded Glock from his waistband. He leapt onto a pew and opened fire. Running along the tops of the benches, he fired the guns in succession, trying to keep the bastard pinned down.
Stark ducked behind the railing. What was happening? The blond-headed priest had pulled out a gun and started shooting at him, and he’d been able to get off only a few shots. He’d seen Father Tom go down, then the other priest, and he was sure he’d hit both of them.
Now he had to get Laurant. Stark inched the gun up and got her in his sights. She was down on her knees at the bottom of the altar steps. She was struggling to get up when he fired. She went down again, but he couldn’t tell where the bullet had struck her. Gunshots were blazing away at him. He dropped the rifle and scrambled on his belly to get to the trapdoor. The videotape. He had to get the tape. The air around him sizzled with bullets. One nearly got him in his hand as he reached for the video camera. Couldn’t get it, but he couldn’t leave without it. Stark crawled to the outlet next to the organ, then jerked the cord. Gunfire and screams ricocheted around him. The camera crashed to the floor, shattering, and he reeled it toward him. A second later, he had the tape. He shoved it into the pocket of his windbreaker, zipped it closed, and then scrambled behind the organ and lifted the trapdoor. Swinging his feet in first, he slid down onto the ledge he’d built in the ceiling below. Then he reached up, pulled the trapdoor closed, and slipped the bolt in place.
There was so much noise he didn’t worry about anyone hearing him kick through the ceiling. He landed in the closet, opened the door, and peeked out. No one was inside the vestibule, but he could see the swarm of people pushing and shoving to get out the front doors. Stark decided to blend in with the mob. He ran through the vestibule and then elbowed his way into the crowd. An old woman grabbed his arm to keep from being pitched forward, and gentleman that he was, he wrapped his arm around her and helped her outside.
He glanced back once and had to fight the laughter. Nicholas was probably still fighting the crowd, trying to get to the iron gate. Eventually, he’d make it up the stairs, but would he find the trapdoor? Stark didn’t think so. It had been so cleverly designed. He could just picture the mule standing there, scratching his head in puzzlement. Where oh where had Justin Brady gone? Yes, that’s who the mule would be looking for, but when Nicholas next saw him, Stark was sure the FBI agent wouldn’t recognize him. The beard would be gone, the farmer’s haircut would be longer, styled, and dyed a different color. He’d also change the color of his eyes, maybe green or blue. He had such a nice collection of contacts to choose from, every color of the rainbow at his disposal.
Stark believed he was the master of disguises. Subtle changes, that was the ticket. Nothing dramatic, just a little of this and a little of that to make a world of difference. Why, his own mother wouldn’t have recognized him today if he’d walked up to her and tapped her on her shoulder. Of course, Mother Millicent wasn’t seeing much of anything these days, rotting as she was in her backyard under the petunias she was so partial to. Still, if she could see him in his farmer’s getup, Stark was sure she’d get a kick out of it.
He didn’t let go of the old woman on his arm but dragged her along with him as he turned the corner. He kept close to the building so that when the mule got up to the loft, he wouldn’t see him if he looked out the window.
The hag was crying. He reached the side door where the crowd was spilling out of the church, and she started to resist. "Let me go. I have to find my husband. Help me find him."
He shoved her away from him and watched her fall into the bushes. Then he moved on, pushing his way through the throng of people and turning again to make sure the mule wasn’t hot on his trail.
He let out a low squeal. Father Tom was rushing outside, and the crowd was parting for him. He was carrying the other priest. Tom’s white vestments were bloody, but Tom didn’t look any the worse for wear. And Laurant. God Almighty, she was coming out of the door with him.