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and Ronnie stood on the edge of the swelling mob. They wore press badges pinned on their jackets. Lamont and Ronnie carried cameras. The sky was gray, overcast with the feel and threat of snow, the temperature hovering somewhere in the low 30s. The crowd filled the square and spilled over the edges onto the stone bridge and beyond, a ragged riot of coats, hats and scarves bundled against the chill. Handheld signs and homemade banners condemned corruption, demanded Mitreski's resignation and called for new elections.
    A succession of speakers exhorted the crowd, warming them up for the main event when Jerzi Todorovski would appear and make his speech. Ranks of riot police stood on the far side of the square. Behind them were four armored personnel carriers filled with soldiers.
    "This could go bad real fast," Lamont said. "Feel it?"
    Nick's face was tight. "Yeah. It's like that feeling you get right before a big thunderstorm, when there's a lot of ozone in the air. Like something's going to happen."
    "Those soldiers are armed," Selena said.
    "We already know part of what we're supposed to find out," Nick said. "Todorovski is who people want in place of Mitreski."
    "We don't know how they feel about the Russians," Ronnie said. "Just because they like Todorovski doesn't make them anti-Russian, just against Mitreski."
    "For the Russians it's the same thing. Whatever happens today you can be sure Moscow doesn't want to see Mitreski go. Those troops are a bad sign."
    Lamont pointed. "Something's happening on the bridge."
    A new group was pushing its way across on the stone bridge across the river. Their signs were different.
    Down with traitors!
    Todorovski is a puppet of the West!
    Unite against the fascists!
    "Who are the fascists?" Selena asked.
    "Anyone who doesn't agree with them," Nick said.
    They were standing near the spot where the bridge opened onto the square. As the group of counter-protesters came by, Nick recognized two of the hard men he had seen yesterday from the hotel window.
    "It's a set up," Nick said. "They've been sent to start trouble."
    The crowd was starting to notice the newcomers. A murmur of anger swept across the square. On stage, the current speaker was shouting something.
    "What's he saying?" Nick asked Selena.
    "He's calling for calm. He's telling the crowd not to let them provoke trouble. He's saying it's what Mitreski wants."
    "I don't think anybody's listening," Ronnie said.
    Angry voices called out as the new demonstrators spread out through the crowd, pushing and shoving. Somebody shouted. One of the newcomers hit someone over the head with his sign. Another punched a woman standing nearby. That was all it took. The crowd closed in, fists flying.
    A whistle blew on the far side of the square. The riot police advanced in a line behind their shields. People backed up in front of them but there was nowhere to go. The police reached the crowd and began swinging their batons. Selena saw a woman shouting at them. They clubbed her down. Blood streamed from her head. Others began to fall before the onslaught.
    Some of the crowd had come ready for trouble. Pieces of pipe and improvised clubs appeared. A surge of shouting demonstrators swept into the police, like a wave crashing on a rocky shore.
    "Whoa," Lamont said. "Those people have some balls."
    In seconds the scene in the square turned into a full-fledged riot. People were fighting and screaming and trying to get away.
    "They're unleashing the Army," Ronnie said.
    The soldiers waiting behind the police deployed in skirmish lines. Behind them an officer stood on the hood of an armored carrier with a bullhorn. He began barking something. The harsh words carried across the square.
    "What's he saying?" Nick looked at Selena.
    "He's telling them to disperse or he will open fire."
    "Shit," Lamont said.
    "They're not listening," said Ronnie.
    "Time to boogie." Nick pointed at the bridge. "Let's get back across the river."
    By now they weren't the only ones