CHAPTER 13
Nobody talked. Kennedy kept her eyes on the ground as General passed her by. He wore faded Nikes, with the sole of one shoe starting to peel away. She couldn’t explain why it struck her as strange. Here he was, ready to kill over a hundred civilians while an entire nation watched, and he was wearing shabby shoes.
Maybe he wasn’t so scary after all.
Or maybe that was the cognitive dissonance talking.
He strolled the aisle slowly, his gun swinging low in his hand. Why didn’t someone grab it?
“Are you recording?” he asked the man in the Hawaiian shirt. Kennedy wondered what news source his camera fed. Were people watching this in real time? What if he had a bomb? What if the plane exploded? They wouldn’t really air that live on network television, would they?
At least while G
