State of Siege - Tom Clancy [43]
But Harleigh could smell the tartness of the gunpowder-or whatever the smell was-wafting from the man's gun. And she thought she saw blood spots on his glove. Fear froze her throat and loosened her insides. Her legs really did go weak, though at the thighs, not the knees. She didn't say anything and then got angry at herself for having been afraid. Talking could have gotten her shot, but it also might have made the intruders sympathetic toward her. Or maybe they would have made her a spokesperson or a group leader or something that would have taken her mind off her fear. And what if they all got shot later? Not necessarily by these people but by whoever came to save them. Her dying thought would be that she should have said something before. As she watched him go, she almost said something again, but her mouth wouldn't let her.
Shortly thereafter one of the men-again speaking very quietly, with an accent that sounded Australian-began collecting people around the table. The children were first. He told them to leave their instruments where they were, on the floor, and come over. Harleigh's violin case was already open, and she took the time to lay the instrument inside. It wasn't a small, belated act of defiance. She wasn't even testing the man to see what she could get away with. Her parents had given the violin to her, and she wasn't going to let anything happen to it. Fortunately, the man either didn't notice or decided to let it go.
As Harleigh sat at the circular table, she felt very exposed. She'd liked it better by the drapes, in the corner. The fear, which had been liquid, began to solidify. Harleigh began trembling as she sat there and was almost glad when one of the girls beside her began to shake. Poor Laura Sabia. Laura was her best friend, but she was a skittish girl to begin with. She looked like she wanted to scream.
Harleigh touched her hand and caught her eye and smiled at her. It's going to be okay, her smile said. The girl didn't respond to that. She did respond when the masked man began walking toward them. He didn't have to say a thing, didn't even have to walk all the way over. Just coming over scared her to silence. Harleigh patted the girl's fingers and then withdrew her hand. She folded her hands in front of her. Harleigh drew a deep breath through her nose and stopped herself from trembling. A girl across the table saw her and did likewise. After a moment, the girl smiled. Harlei.gh smiled back. She discovered that fear was like. being cold. If you relaxed, it wasn't as bad. The cavernous room became quiet. There was a feeling of tense resignation at the table, an awareness that the quiet was thin and could be broken at any moment. Inside the table, the diplomats seemed a little more restless than the musicians, probably because they were the most vulnerable.. The intruders seemed very angry about somebody not being there, but Harleigh didn't know who. Perhaps the secretary-general, who had been late. Ms. Dom was sitting at the head of the table. She made eye contact with each of her violinists, making sure they were all right. Each girl responded in turn with a little nod. It was all bravery, Harleigh knew; no one was really okay. But in the absence of anything else, the sense of we're all in this together was something to hold onto.
Harleigh thought she heard footsteps outside the door. Security people were bound to show up. She looked around for places to hide if something did happen, if people began shooting. Behind the horseshoe table looked like the safest spot. She could run over, slide across, and be on the other side in a matter of moments. She lifted her knees very slowly against the bottom of this table, like she did to her desk at school when she was bored-make it seem to float. The table