He lowered the bullhorn as he saw them enter the street and then raised it again.

“And here they come now, the private army of the ruling class.” Fraina pointed, and the crowd turned to see the blue uniforms coming up the street toward them.

“Comrades, feast your eyes on what a corrupt society does to preserve its illusion of itself. They call it the Land of the Free, but speech is not free, is it? The right to assemble is not free. Not today, not for us. We followed procedure. We filed our applications for the right to parade but those permits were denied to us. And why?” Fraina looked around at the crowd. “Because they fear us.”

The Letts turned fully toward them. On the steps, up by Fraina, Danny saw Nathan Bishop. He seemed smaller than Danny remembered. Bishop’s eyes locked on his, followed by a curious cock of his head. Danny held the look, trying to will a pride he did not feel into his own eyes. Nathan Bishop’s eyes narrowed with recognition. Recognition, followed by bitterness and then, most surprising, a crestfallen despair.

Danny dropped his eyes.

“Look at them in their domed helmets. With their nightsticks and their guns. These are not forces of law. These are forces of oppression. And they are afraid—terrified, comrades—because we hold the moral high ground. We are right. We are the workingmen of this city and we will not be sent to our rooms.”

McKenna raised his own bullhorn as they got within thirty yards of the crowd.

“You are in violation of city ordinances prohibiting assembly without permit.”

Fraina raised his bullhorn. “Your ordinances are a lie. Your city is a lie.”

“I order you to disperse.” McKenna’s voice crackled in the morning air. “If you refuse, you will be removed by force.”

They were fifteen yards away now and spreading out. Their faces were gaunt and determined and Danny searched for fear in their eyes and found very little.

“Force is all they have!” Fraina shouted. “Force is the weapon of choice for all tyrants since the dawn of time. Force is the unreasonable response to a reasonable action. We have broken no law!”

The Letts strolled toward them.

“You are in violation of city ordinance eleven-dash-four—”

“You are in violation of us, sir. You are in violation of our constitutional rights.”

“If you do not disperse, you will be arrested. Come down off those steps.”

“I will no more remove myself from these steps than—”

“I am ordering—”

“I do not recognize your authority.”

“You are breaking the law, sir!”

The two crowds met.

For a moment no one seemed to know what to do. The cops mingled with the Letts, the Letts mingled with the cops, all of them interspersed, and few among them aware of how it had happened. A pigeon cooed from a windowsill and the air still carried a hint of dew. The rooftops along Dudley Square smoked with remnants of the early-morning fog. This close Danny had a hard time telling who was cop and who was Lett, and then a group of bearded Letts walked around from the side of the Opera House wielding ax handles. Big guys, Russians by the look of them, eyes clear of anything that could be confused with doubt.