“The crazies targeted the World Trade Organization. What they call the 'power elite.' I was a district supervisor in charge of crowd control. We got caught with our pants around our ankles. Ended up with a hundred thousand demonstrators pissed off at what they said was an oppressive world trade system. There was looting, curfews, cops and National Guard running around shooting rubber bullets or tear gas at the nonviolent as well as violent protesters. The city ended up with an international black eye and a pile of lawsuits. Some people said the police overreacted. Others said they didn't do enough. Go figure.”

“As you said, a major mess.”

Malloy nodded. “But the Battle of Seattle was the turning point.”

“In what way?”

“The protesters learned that marching down the street wasn't enough to get attention. Only direct action worked. You had to break things up, inconvenience people, disrupt the focus of the people in your bull's-eye.”

“From what I've seen around the city today, the power elite have come a long way since Seattle.”

“Hundred percent,” Malloy said. “I was in Philly for the GOP convention when the anarchists made us look silly again. They'd raise hell, then run down the streets with a bunch of overweight cops chasing them. Created chaos and confusion. They stirred up the pot at the WTO conference in Miami too. We finally began to get a handle on things at the World Economic Forum here in 2002, and pretty much had our strategy in place for the Republican Convention in 2004.”

“You kept disruptions to a minimum, but there were complaints about civil rights being violated.”

“That's part of the protest strategy. These guys are sophisticated. It's mostly a small group of hard-core instigators that moves from city to city. They provoke authority hoping we'll overreact. Whoops!”

Malloy pulled off to the side, double-parking near a group of people carrying musical instruments, and barked into his hand radio.

“Nomad to MACC.Guerrilla musicians gathering for an unpermitted march from Union Square to Madison Square Garden.”

Barnes scanned the sidewalk on both sides of the street. “I don't see anyone marching.”

“They're walking in two-by-twos now. Nothing illegal about that. They'll start coming together in a minute—no, wait, there they go now.”

The musicians were coalescing into larger groups, stepping off the curb into the street to form a procession. But before the parade began, police officers on bicycles and scooters swooped in from both sides and began to make arrests.

Barnes furiously scribbled notes.

“I'm impressed,” he said. “That went off like clockwork.”

“It should. That little maneuver was the result of years of experience. We're only dealing with an in-between economic conference, but there are hundreds of guests and protesters, so there's the potential of big trouble. The crazies are always trying to stay one step ahead of us.”

“How do you tell the real fanatics from people who simply want to protest?”