The woman's mouth worked up and down but no words came out. Her face was white and haggard.
The radio in Lowary's jeep began a familiar crackling sound as someone on the same frequency pressed a button on a handset.
Lowary was afraid to move. He could easily start a stampede if the civilians thought he was making the move just to get out of the line of sight of the machine gunners. Slowly, he raised his hand until it was near the .45 resting in the holster clipped to his web belt.
He waited.
"LARGO ONE—THIS IS LARGO NINE—OVER."
Lowary edged backwards, still facing the crowd. The woman was crying now. Down the line of cars he could hear the high powered motor being gunned as it was being maneuvered out of the line. Soon it would make the attempt of running down Morgan and the others. It wouldn't stand a chance, but the others might succeed in the confusion that would follow.
He made the decision then. Deliberately, he turned his back on the crowd and walked to the jeep.