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Mark left the man and dove for the grenade. Instantly, the man was on him and tried to snatch it from him. Mark managed to throw it further away into the open meadow ... far enough for them not to be hit when it exploded right afterwards.
They rolled in the snow, each trying to get the upper hand: Both of them exhausted from the previous pursuit and both determined not to give up. Mark's earlier boxing training finally gave him the vital advantage. He managed to subdue the other man.
But now – what should he do with him? He didn't even have any handcuffs. He would have to hope for a police patrol. He snatched the man's backpack, turned his arm around and started to walk him towards the roadblock.
The man gave him a hard time: With his ski boots he kicked against Mark's shinbones whenever he had an opportunity. And of course – according to the 'law of the biggest possible anger', as Mark thought - there was no police patrol.
Finally they reached the roadblock and the police officers who were in charge.
"Handcuff this man and take us to the police Chief of Davos!" Mark commanded between gasping breaths.
"And who wants us to do that and with what right?" a baffled police officer asked, eying the black-skinned young man warily.
"I'm Mark Sanger, I'm with the American special consultant working with your boss. You should have heard of us, and you'll find my identification in the left pocket of my parka. I don't have any official right to arrest anybody, but I strongly suggest that you do it for me, or else your boss might not be pleased."
Mark wasn't really fraternizing. He was just worn out and wanted to get the job done.
"I've heard of you," the officer in charge confirmed. "But you'll have to wait until we find out what happened at the electric power station. We've just been told that there was an explosion. Perhaps my patrol car will be needed there."
"I can explain that." Without much enthusiasm Mark reported to them the events at the power plant. He opened the bearded man's backpack and found another two grenades. This was enough to convince any sceptical officer.
Finally he was taken back to Davos by car, together with his captive, only stopping at the power plant to retrieve his skis.
Ironside had been informed by radio and was awaiting him at the police station. Mark gave an account of the events of the last two hours.
When they finally came back to the Chief's suite, Eve was reading Ironside's New York Times while Ed was teaching Rebecca to play chess. Without even taking off his ski boots Mark plunked down onto the sofa.
They didn't have much time, so Rebecca reluctantly started to open his boots.
She apologized: "Mark – I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have forced you into skiing down once more if I had known that you were so tuckered out!"
How typical for her to feel guilty!
Mark grinned and answered: "Never mind, I'm the born hero, didn't you know?"
"Come here, peewee", Ironside said softly. He picked her up and sat her onto his knees. "That's not your fault. Actually – if you had not taught Mark skiing and if you had not recognized that man up on the Rinerhorn, we would be out of electricity now, and above all: the congress centre would, too. Can you imagine the problems it would have caused? You prevented that. You did just fine."
Understanding well that all Mark wanted was to relax and drink coffee, Ironside asked him: "Are you up for another tough evening?"
Mark would have done everything for his boss anyway, but that he even showed his care had an almost drugging effect.
Immediately he stood up. "Heroes are always up for anything", he replied and left to take a quick shower. He had to hurry up in order to be ready for the formal reception.
When they stepped out onto the road, they were baffled. It was jammed with people: A demonstration against the WDF.
Police officers held the protesters back so the invited guests were able to pass.
Ironside and his staff observed the protesters closely. There were hippies, workers, farmers and old people, even whole families, and they were very quiet. Eve saw the receptionist of their hotel. He was holding a little girl by the hand. At his side was a woman pushing a perambulator. Together with another man he was holding up a placard: 'Affordable housing for families'.
Seeing her questioning look the Chief explained that because many strangers could afford paying expensive rents, the latter went up in general. Native workers, for instance those who worked in tourism, didn't have high salaries, but had to pay high rental fees.
Two young women were carrying another placard: 'Others are hungry too'.
"With what each of the people at the WDF eats tonight a family could live for a week," Mark guessed.
One placard asked: 'Right or wrong?' – and that matched quite exactly what Ironside and his friends were thinking.
Ed bent down and whispered into Rebecca's ear: "I'd like to join them as much as you do. But we have a job to do. We have to protect those politicians and managers. Afterwards we will think about how we can change things. Ok?"
Rebecca nodded, not very happy with her current job.
Meanwhile they had reached the congress centre. In a low voice Ironside addressed his staff: "Those people won't do any harm. But there might be others hiding in the crowd who will. Stay alert!"
If possible, the participants of the formal dinner were clothed even more exquisitely than for the opening.
They felt a little embarrassed about the demonstration, but most of them were used to worse affronts.
They entered the festively lit hall and looked forward to a pleasant evening.
Ironside kept studying the faces of the protesters. Suddenly he recognized a face: He had seen it in the mug files of the RAF. This time, he didn't want to chase away the suspect. He beckoned Ed to come closer. "Look at the blond man in the dark green jacket. He might be an RAF member."
Ed watched him as inconspicuously as possible. The man deposed a holdall behind a tree under a window of the congress centre…
