Bertram smiled. �The President is in town,� he explained. �He�s going to make a speech announcing that he supports Wilson as the next president.�
�You�re going, huh?�
�Yes,� Silverwebb answered firmly. �I wouldn�t miss it for the world. He already has my vote, but I really want to be there when his candidacy becomes official.�
�Have fun,� Michael said. Not many Defense Wardens would consider a political rally a fun way to spend an evening off, but then Bertram Silverwebb wasn�t like any other Warden Michael had ever met anyway.
***
Bertram took a seat near the front, hoping that he would be able to see the speakers better from there. Between his vision and his height, he had trouble seeing from too far back. Most of the other Wardens thought he was myopic, but if that were truly the case he wouldn�t have been allowed to join the Equisetan Defense Wardens.
No, Bertram wasn�t near-sighted. In truth, he could see very far away indeed. Silverwebb had astounded his instructors at the Academy with his ability on the range. Bertram had a rare gift that was found only among the Shynonians. He had what they termed �hawk-eyes,� meaning that he could see even minute details from a tremendous distance. However, it also meant that his eyes had trouble focusing at any distance within twenty feet of him. To correct this, he wore glasses constantly.
Eric knew of his hawk-sight for it had served them well on a few missions in the years since he�d joined the Wardens. What Eric didn�t realize was that Bertram also had �cat-sight,� the ability to see well in extremely low light.
As the lights in the auditorium dimmed, Bertram adjusted his glasses and scanned the crowd around him. For some reason, something didn�t set right with the young man. He couldn�t put his finger on exactly what was wrong, but he knew it wasn�t merely his imagination.
Bertram had an uncanny sense for knowing when a situation was going to turn bad. He�d used his ability to read a situation in the past and had fixed many problems before they became too big to handle.
As the spotlight shown on one corner of the stage, the emcee walked out. He approached the podium and cleared his throat. �Ladies and Gentlemen,� he started. �We gather tonight to both honor the end of one great political career and announce the beginning of another. Without further ado, The President of the United States of Equisetia!�
A second spotlight covered the entrance of the President to thunderous applause. Bertram clapped along with everyone else, but paused as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Turning, he saw a photographer standing only a few yards away. Something about the man didn�t set right with the Warden.
At first, Bertram wasn�t sure what it was, then he noticed that the photographer wore a press pass for a local radio station. Why would a radio station hire a photographer? Becoming concerned, Silverwebb walked up behind the man. As the photographer turned the camera to face the men on the stage, Bertram heard the distinctive sound of a gun cocking.
�Gun!� he shouted, throwing himself on top of the photographer. Just as he�d feared, the weapon was hidden inside the camera and discharged. Bertram knocked the concealed weapon away from the assailant�s hands and pinned him to the ground. Only when he was certain the man could not escape, did he risk a glance at the stage. To his immense relief, the President was being escorted off stage by his Watch Wardens, none the worse for wear.
An older man pulled Bertram to his feet, while two others took custody of his prisoner. �Good job,� the man stated.
�Thank you, sir,� Bertram said softly, recognizing him as the Chief of the President�s security detail.
Lionel Webster nodded. �You�re quite welcome, Mister��
�Silverwebb,� Bertram supplied. �I�m � I�m in the Defense Warden�s, sir. I was just here to watch,� he explained, showing Webster his identification.
Lionel nodded and said, �It�s a good thing you were here, Mr. Silverwebb. Tell me, how did you know there was going to be trouble?�
Bertram shrugged and told the man about the erroneous press pass and hearing the camera-gun cocking. �I didn�t do anything any other Warden wouldn�t have done, sir,� he finished shyly.
Webster shook his head. �On the contrary,� he argued. �There aren�t many, even among the Defense Wardens who would have noticed a problem until it was too late.� Smiling, the Chief added, �You�re to be commended, Mr. Silverwebb.�
�Yes, sir,� Bertram stated softly, not sure what else to say. While Webster turned and walked away, to coordinate with the rest of his team, Bertram sat back down in his seat. After a short time, the President returned to the podium and the evening continued without further incident.
Bertram, however, was now worlds away. His mind was turning over the assassination attempt. He didn�t see what he�d done as all that special, in spite of what Webster said, but he knew his mother would be proud of his actions. Not really hearing the speeches that were made, Bertram sat and contemplated the path his life had taken.
A few years ago, he�d been content � even happy � learning to be a bard. Now he was a Defense Warden, working to stop counterfeiters and others who would defraud innocent people. He had just saved the life of the President and would no doubt receive a formal commendation. All because his father had been killed and his brother kidnapped while on assignment. At that moment, Bertram resolved that, no matter what happened, he would continue to search for Edwin and try to find out who had killed his father. He owed them that much at least.
The room suddenly lightened and Bertram realized that the last speech had come to a close. He stood and slowly made his way from the room. �I guess you never can tell how things will turn out,� he mused. �Life�s a gamble.�
End