He walked slowly. He could have explained, but there wasn't time. Decisions had to be made quickly, right or wrong. Perhaps the kid down there _was_ afraid, just running away. But he couldn't take that chance. There was no reason to believe that the military didn't have some subversive elements within; the Reds had infiltered everywhere else. And what better time for the rats to come out of their nests, then now, when the country was on their target list! One man could be as dangerous as a Red Division. Lowary climbed into his jeep conscious of how tired he felt. I'm getting old, he thought. He leaned back and took off his helmet and looked up at the clear blue sky, letting the breeze fan his face. A high, distant speck caught his eye. It was trailed by a four-forked stream of white. He felt his stomach grow cold, as he stared in fascination at the four vapor streams that could only be one thing; a multi-engine bomber. It was coming in from the Northwest, heading for the City. The enemy had slipped one through the defense. He tore his eyes from the sky. Perhaps no one else had seen it. It would be better if they never did. And so it comes, he thought. The end of an age ... back to the sticks and stones for good. He drew in on a new cigarette, thinking of Dorothy and Susan and Ronnie. He became conscious of Meyers standing beside him. He wished he would go away, there was so little time left to daydream. He wanted to be alone. "The guard down the road says there is a pile-up of civilian cars that demand to go across." Lowary looked up. "Send some of the reserve platoon down and force them back. You know the orders!" "Look, Captain. We've got maybe ten ... fifteen minutes left. What harm will it do?" Lowary felt weary. Meyers hadn't failed to see the bomber, neither had the people in the cars. They knew it was the beginning of the end. Meyers and Tudor, and the others were wearing him down. He felt like giving them their damn bridge. It would be easy, so final. He took the yellow paper out of his pocket and glanced at the pasted letters again. When he was finished he knew what he had to do. He had no choice. Lowary handed the paper to Meyers. "I'll take care of things down the road. Perhaps you might like to read this while I'm gone," he said. The Lieutenant looked puzzled when Lowary drove away. * * * * * The traffic was jammed just as Meyers said it was. The Sergeant in command of the squad had set up a small road block. A machine-gunner, Morgan, was sitting behind a .50 Cal. looking down the barrel. Lowary drove past them, up to the lead car. As he threw his legs out over the side of the jeep he looked up quickly. The single multi-engine bomber was overhead, still heading South. In the distance he could see new vapor streams, much smaller, much faster. The Interceptor Command was giving chase. Lowary could see that they would be too late to save the City.