The plaza in front of the Pittsburgh Branch.
The air was thrashed to pieces by the rotor blades.
A police helicopter circled low overhead, its massive rotors slicing through the air with a deafening roar.
Dust, discarded newspapers, and strands of hair were all swept up by the man-made gale, dancing wildly in every direction.
Outside the police cordon was a sea of people.
Thousands of citizens who had heard the news rushed to the scene, packing the area wall to wall.
At the very front were the workers, led by Louis. Luna stood behind him on her tiptoes, her gaze vaulting over the men's broad shoulders to stare intently at the Branch's tightly shut main door.
The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.
This tension wasn't born of fear, but of the feverish excitement of witnessing history in the making.
"Here he comes!"
Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted.
In that instant, all the ambient noise bizarrely vanished, leaving only the monotonous drone of the helicopter.
