Brad said, "Is there any way of knowing if this is a terrorist attack, Cassidy?"
"It could be, Brad. We just don't know. It could be an isolated incident. It could even be some kind of accident. The exact nature of what has happened we're not clear about at the moment. Right now, the police and other emergency personnel are focusing on getting people to safety."
Cassidy saw someone running toward them, dodging cars. A policeman. Andy watched Cassidy's head swivel to the left, and he swung his camera, guessing it was worth the shot.
"You can't be here!" the cop yelled. He was young, his face red and sweaty despite the cold.
Cassidy pulled herself up to her full height, wishing she were still wearing her four-inch heels instead of Jim's Nikes. "We have to be here," she told him in a voice that brooked no arguments. "This is history. We are keeping hundreds of thousands of people informed."
The policeman stared at them for a moment, considering. "Okay;' he said and left--again on the run.
Andy gave Cassidy a nod, and she knew that she had earned his respect.
Even though the adrenaline was pumping into her veins at full force, Cassidy made herself continue to speak slowly and clearly. "We want to tell our viewers some things not to do. We'll see if we can put these up on your screen.
"First of all, stay away from downtown. If you are on 1-5 headed north or south, I'd recommend taking 1-205 and bypassing downtown entirely. Traffic is being allowed to travel in some outbound lanes on 1-5, 1-405, and surface streets. Some people are simply abandoning their cars in the middle of the road, making an already nightmarish traffic situation worse.
"In addition to the streets being gridlocked, cell phone traffic is jammed and landlines are overloaded. If it's not an absolute emergency, please stay off the lines."
Eric had passed some of the information that Cassidy relayed along to her; some came from Andy's sources.
"We are hearing that the hospitals have been overrun with people who have been exposed to whatever this is. There are also injuries from trampling and fender benders as people are fleeing the area. If you are a doctor or a nurse, you should report to the nearest hospital. We will keep you updated with further reports as we get them. This is Cassidy Shaw, reporting live from downtown Portland."
Cassidy let her shoulders droop. She knew they would be back on in a minute or two, that she would need to keep broadcasting until they were forced to leave or this thing sorted itself out. In a second, she might look around for someone to interview, but for now, she just let the chaos wash over her. She realized she was trembling. A block away, she saw a man pushing his way through the crowd, fighting upstream. The only reason she picked him out was because he was well over six feet tall and seemed to be all muscle. The build and the red-gold hair were familiar--it was Leif Larson, the FBI agent, and her friend Nicole's . . . question mark. Boyfriend, friend, friend with benefits? Cassidy didn't know.
Right now he looked like a man on a mission, every inch the Viking warrior.
Chapter 8
Mark 0. Hatfield United States Courthouse
Why do you need a gun?" Mrs. Lofland asked in a calm voice. Nothing so far today had seemed to fluster her--not being questioned by a judge, not being forced to evacuate, not even seeing a gun in Nic's hand.
"Here's our problem. There could be poisonous gas at ground level, because it's heavier than air. But if we stay here, then as the building's air system sucks in fresh air from ground level, it will spew it right back out at us. So we're probably not safe here either. I'm thinking if we could break out a window, we could bring in fresh air that's not contaminated."
Nic walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down. The sidewalk was full of panicked people. Bile rose in her throat when she saw that a few were prone or on their hands and knees, already overcome. Were these the same people who had been on the stairway a few minutes earlier?
She focused on the glass itself. Now that she was away from the chaos, away from the immediate danger of being trampled, her thinking felt slow and muddy. Finally she holstered her gun.