Treasure Templari by David S Brody

Author:David S Brody [Brody, David S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780990741350
Publisher: Eyes That See Publishing
Published: 2019-09-12T04:00:00+00:00

Cam no longer had to bull his way along. The counter-protestors, whose numbers seemed to have doubled in the few minutes since he arrived, had begun to swarm toward the arriving white supremacists. It looked to Cam like a score of black-clad Antifa (for ‘anti-fascist’) activists had joined in and were shoving their way forward, whooping, hoping to inflame passions. Each group was funneling into a twenty-foot-wide pathway at the edge of the plaza running alongside the federal building. Normally a twenty-foot passage would more than suffice. But not when hundreds of angry people were converging like stampeding animals. Cam rode the tide. He had lost sight of Astarte. But based on the sea of humanity moving her way, she was likely about to be sandwiched between the two seething hoards.

Standing on a concrete planter box, he glanced to his right. A phalanx of police wearing riot helmets and carrying Plexiglas shields pushed forward, trying to wedge themselves between the two groups before the pushing and shoving along the front lines turned into something worse. Cam redoubled his efforts, pulling protestors aside as he careened his way to the front of crowd. He arrived to find Astarte, arms linked on either side with fellow counter-protestors, almost chin to chin with a skinhead with a swastika tattoo across his forehead, the rest of his face covered with a red bandana. He could tell she was frightened, but she and her cohorts were matching the white supremacist chant with one of their own: “Say it loud! Say it clear! Refugees are welcome here!”

Shit. This was bad. The groups were being forced together by bodies pushing from behind. The white supremacists had rearranged themselves, now forming a battalion line of fifteen wide and six or seven deep. Cam knew that even minimal contact would be like dropping a torch into the tinderbox. And the police were still sixty or seventy feet away. He reached over a woman wearing a brown and blue hijab and grabbed for Astarte’s arm. Astarte turned in alarm at the contact, wide-eyed, until she recognized Cam’s face. She blinked. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

He pushed closer. “Getting you out of here. Come on!”

He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “No way! I’m not leaving now.”

A man ten feet from Astarte fell, apparently knocked down from behind. A skinhead wearing a MAGA hat kicked at him, but the man’s friends pulled him back out of range as the neo-Nazi spat in his direction. “Astarte, listen to me. It’s not safe here.” He managed to grab her arm. “Come on.”

A water-balloon filled with sewerage landed on the bricks at their feet, spraying them with foul liquid. Astarte, repulsed, staggered back and met Cam’s eyes. But she steadied herself with a deep breath. She lifted her chin and shook her head. She was surprisingly calm. “Sorry, Dad. But evil triumphs when good people do nothing.”

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