Six Seconds

81

Cold Butte, Montana

The papal entourage arrived at the school.

The pope entered the foyer, where he first embraced

Father Andrew Stone.

“God bless you, my brother.” The pontiff smiled. Brilliant light flashes rained on them as news cameras from around the world photographed the meeting. “Welcome, Eminence.” Stone introduced the pope to the line of local officials and school staff backed by hundreds of wildly happy students.

After small presentations and a brief tour, the pope entered the gym, triggering applause and camera flashes as TV crews jostled for angles.

Having hosted state basketball championships, the gymnasium was the largest in the region. But today it seemed small. Nearly eight hundred people in their

Sunday best filled rows of folding chairs and bleachers, and crammed the balcony at the back.

Amid the clapping, Walker pressed on his earpiece while he responded to a radio status check and took stock of the venue.

The children in the choir were in place on the stage. Uniformed police and newspeople lined the walls.

FBI and Secret Service marksmen were concealed in strategic points throughout the gym. Federal agents in plain clothes had been inserted into the audience. Special closed-circuit security cameras had been in stalled to watch the crowd. They were monitored from the command post truck parked among the scores of emergency vehicles encircling the building. Walker and the other Secret Service agents took points at stage right and stage left.

Onstage, the pope stood at his chair, spread his hands and smiled to the audience, telegraphing his love. Next came welcoming remarks from more local, county and state officials as the agents and security cameras continued scanning the crowd.

They were as ready as they would ever be, Walker thought and offered every cop’s prayer.

Lord, please don’t let anything happen on my watch.