From the Heart

cavalcade, into the crowd. There were screams and a new rush of panic. People were knocked underfoot while others scrambled for safety.
    Liv pushed her way through, dashing after her cameraman. She had to shove and duck as she fought against the flow of the crowd, which rushed pell-mell in the opposite direction.Shots rang out over the shouts of anger and terror. She took a sharp blow on the arm as someone clawed his way past her. Never faltering, she continued forward, speaking into her mike.
    Thorpe caught Liv’s wrist as she started to brush by him. Pulling her back, he kept his body firmly planted in front of hers. He’d seen a bullet smash into the pavement no more than three feet from where he stood.
    “Don’t be a damn fool,” he snapped before he lifted his mike again. “Four men,” he continued without taking his eyes off the scene, “masked and armed with high-powered rifles . . .”
    Liv jerked her wrist out of his hold. Because her way was blocked, she was forced to give her report from where she stood. Over Thorpe’s shoulder, she could see the wrecked car and the gunmen. There was no need to give Bob instructions. He was down on one knee at the front of the crowd, taping the shooting as coolly as he would have taped a garden party. From whatever cover they could find, members of the world press did their job. In a medley of languages, the word of the attack went out over the airwaves.
    An explosive blast of gunfire erupted. Then there was sudden and ominous silence.
    Thorpe continued to report after the four men lay sprawled in the street. His voice was objective, if hurried. He had to give the facts as he saw them. He had chosen television news for just this purpose. The immediacy. It would always be the newsman’s greatest challenge—to report accurately what was happening as it happened, without a script, without preparation. His adrenaline was pumping. His instincts had been right on target.
    For the next fifteen minutes, he talked nonstop until the crowd was calmed and the procession continued on to the abbey. The service would go on. Inside, the London correspondent for CNC would take over. It would give Thorpe time to dig up information on the attack. He signed off and signaled his cameraman.
    “You had no right,” Liv began immediately.
    “Shut up, Olivia.” He hadn’t realized until that moment just how furious he was. As he turned his mike over to thesound technician, his hand shook slightly. She could have been killed, he thought grimly. Standing right beside him, she could have been killed.
    Incensed, she drew herself up straight. “Who do you think you are—” The furious question was cut off when he grabbed her arm.
    “Somebody had to stop you before you ran out into the crossfire. You damn idiot! ” He stopped, took her shoulders and shook her. “Who’d give your precious report if you walked into a bullet?”
    Liv jerked away from him. “I had no intention of walking into a bullet. I knew exactly what I was doing,” she said coldly.
    “You weren’t thinking about anything but getting on top of the action.” He was shouting now, drawing the curious attention of a few of their colleagues. “Did you think you could ask politely for them to stop shooting and give you an interview?”
    Almost as bewildered as she was infuriated, Liv stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I didn’t do anything any other reporter wouldn’t have done.” With a quick move of her hand, she pushed back her tousled hair. “It was exactly what you did yourself. You had no business interfering with my work.”
    “Interfering with your work?” he repeated incredulously. “There were four crazy men with high-powered rifles out there.”
    “Damn it, I know that!” Exasperated, she gestured with her mike. “That’s the story. What’s the matter with you?”
    Thorpe stared back at her. He was overreacting and knew it. But the fury wouldn’t die. To keep from shaking her again, he jammed his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t able to deal with knowing she could be in any sort of danger . . . and that he could do nothing about it.
    “I’ve got a story to cover,” he said tersely, and left her there.
    Placing her fists on her hips, Liv glared after him. Glancing to the side, she caught Bob’s questioning stare. After blowing out a frustrated breath, she went to him. “Come on, get the rest of the crew. We’ve got a story to