Out of the corner of his eye Lazar could see the film crew scrambling to get the cameras rolling, wiping the dust off the lens, abandoning the tripods, desperate to capture the footage. If they missed the collapse, no matter what the excuse, their lives would be on the line. Despite the danger, no one ran away, they remained fixed to the spot, searching for even the slightest movement, a tilt or jolt-a tremble. It seemed as if even the injured were silent in anticipation.

The five domes did not fall, aloof from the petty chaos of the world below. While the church remained standing, scores in the crowd were bleeding, wounded, weeping. As surely as if the sky had clouded over, Lazar sensed the mood change. Doubts surfaced. Had some unearthly power intervened and stopped this crime? Spectators began to leave, a few slowly, then others joined them, more and more, hurrying away. No one wanted to watch anymore. Lazar struggled to suppress a laugh. The crowd had broken apart while the church had survived! He turned to the married couple, hoping to share this moment with them.

The man standing directly behind Lazar was so close they were almost touching. Lazar hadn’t heard him approach. He was smiling but his eyes were cold. He didn’t wear a uniform or show his identity card. However, there was no question that he was State Security, a secret police officer, an agent of the MGB-a deduction possible not through what was present in his appearance but what was absent. To the right and left there were injured people. Yet this man had no interest in them. He’d been planted in the crowd to monitor people’s reactions. And Lazar had failed: he’d been sad when he should’ve been happy and happy when he should’ve been sad.

The man spoke through a thin smile, his dead eyes never moving from Lazar:

– A small setback, an accident, easily fixed. You should stay: perhaps it will still happen today, the demolition. You want to stay, don’t you? You want to see the church fall? It will be quite spectacular.