I broke in. "Or any streetcar." I was feeling cocky.
"Or any streetcar. I would suggest, General, that you choose a target for its visibility. One that you cannot mistake."
The uniforms were suspicious, as they conferred with their noses flat against the glass. They beckoned to me and pointed.
"That one there."
"Which one where?" They had to be more explicit than that.
"The big truck. The one with the green top and the pipe sticking out."
I spotted it. It slowed for a red light, and came to a complete stop. I concentrated. Blow, Gabriel.
The crosstraffic halted, and the truck again got under way. Then suddenly, as it must have been, although from where we were it seemed like a leisurely stroll, it veered through the other traffic lane and smoke burst from its hood. We could see the driver pop from his seat and race to the corner fire alarm box. Almost instantly traffic both ways was four deep. I turned away from the window. I don't like heights, anyway.
"Now can I go?" Walk, not run to the nearest exit.