Never lost sight of the mission, she told herself.

In the command center, Grace turned to Toussaint. “You can’t stop her. We need to make the best of it, if we can.”

Toussaint had no time to reply to Grace; he barked out commands. “URGENT, Convoy Charlie, listen up. IRON LADY is in motion.

“She’s wild carding. Don’t squeeze her, put a V shape of agents in front of her, with titanium shields ready. Expect rocks to be thrown. Don’t react without my orders. The choppers are going move in overhead, doors open with snipers readied.” Toussaint paused and looked at Gen. Grace, who nodded affirmatively while relaying commands to Zebra forces.

“If any metal is flashed grab her and throw her back in the car. End of story. Understood?”

When she stepped out of the back seat of the Saber, the slogan-shouting crowd became eerily silent. Fixing her gaze on the woman wearing the farmer’s overalls, she walked directly toward her inside the cocoon of the Secret Service agents who left a sightline open at the front of their V formation.

Hillary stopped a few feet before the woman and cold-eyed her. The woman raised her middle finger, and mouthed what seemed to be an obscene expression. Hillary smiled while drilling her eyes into the woman, and took a few steps closer. The mob rabbled, like a dead-end bar’s patrons itching for a back alley fight. Hillary took another step closer to the woman; she could see her eyes twitching nervously. Her children were tugging confusedly at her sleeves while the veteran in the wheelchair didn’t look up.

She held out her hand to the woman. “My name is Hillary Clinton, but I guess you know that. What’s yours?”

The woman started to work her tongue and jaws as if trying to create spit, but her mouth must have been too dry. Hillary ignored her now and leaned over to the veteran speaking into his ear.

“There’s too much suffering in this world. It’s not God’s way. You gave up your legs for your country,” she said, as she looked down at his stumps. “We need to help each other.”

The man still didn’t look up. The woman, enraged, took the back of his wheelchair and flipped it over. The crowd became agitated, with some shouting out of ugly slogans as Hillary and two Secret Service agents righted the wheelchair while the woman fled back into the crowd leaving her terrified children. Hillary approached the two boys as her mind searched for some long stored information.

Finding the thought, she asked, “Do you know the Boy Scout Code?”

One of the boys turned and fled into the crowd when Hillary spoke. The remaining child, looking confused and frightened, seemed adrift. His mother, who most likely told him what to do, had disappeared. His father didn’t seem to speak, and so he probably couldn’t look to him for cues.

“When I was your age,” Hillary continued, addressing the child, now looking like a deer, at twilight, crossing a highway suddenly caught by a car’s headlights, “someone told me to be kind like a Boy Scout. I was told that a scout understands there is strength in being gentle. He treats others, as he wants to be treated. He doesn’t hurt or kill harmless things without reason.”

Out of her pocket she took out two gold–plated ballpoint pens engraved with ‘Hillary Clinton, President of the United States’ and handed them to the boy. “One’s for you and give the other to your brother,” Hillary said.

A tentative smile replaced the fear, which gripped the boy’s face as he muttered softly, “Thank you” and a second later he added “Ma’am.” He stuffed the pens in his pocket, looking nervously around to see who might be watching.

“You’re a brave boy … a very brave boy.” Hillary said, as the terror of second thoughts appeared to flash across the boy’s face.

As she backed off toward her waiting car, Hillary stopped and stared intently at the faces of the crowd. A minute later, people started to throw rocks. Secret Service agents snapped open their shields.

Toussaint screamed into the transmitter, “Get her out now.”

“Let it play for a few more seconds,” she said into her transmitter, as her voice filled with a grim determination, “And don’t let the agents touch me.” A dozen more rocks clambered harmlessly against the titanium shields.

“Okay, it’s finished,” Hillary said. “Let’s get out of here.”