"It's pissing me off, but getting better slowly. I've taken care of everything, bud. We're booked in under the names we travelled here on. Get straight on up and see her if you want. I can get your bags sorted out. She's in room 109."
"Cheers, Dave," said Morgan. "But I think I'll get a shower and straighten up first."
"Alex, I know you like this girl, I know she messed you around some, and I know you're still pretty pissed about it. You think you can manage this? You know, stay on task?"
'Tll be fine," Morgan responded humourlessly. 'I'm sure her intention is to keep it professional, too. I can handle that."
"OK. So, you want the word on Cornell and Lundt?" Dave asked, tactfully changing topic. Morgan nodded. "Cornell's in Sydney. He's staying at the Novotel, Darling Harbour. Know it? New South Wales cops have got eyes on him and they'll keep me posted if he so much as gets up to go to the bathroom." "Boss says you kept Cornell company on the flight out here," said
Morgan, knowingly.
"Oh yeah. You should have seen the look on the poor bastard's face, man. He turned grey when I told him who I was. I think he was planning to hit on me..." Sutherland smiled. "Can't blame him."
"There's no accounting for his taste," Morgan laughed. "So what's the score now?"
"Well, bud, during the last 16 hours of our flight, I took our friend
Cornell through the surveillance reports and photos we have, documenting his movements in London over the past couple of weeks, including his call for help to Johnson."
"How'd he take it?"
"Not well,' Sutherland smiled. "He had no idea Johnson had been pulling his strings all this time, said he'd been dealing with someone totally anonymous to him via some email procedure. Using star signs to identify themselves. Needless to say, Mr. Cornell is now more than willing to contribute if it means keeping his arse out of the electric chair."
"They don't use the chair in England, Dave."
"Maybe they should," Sutherland countered, meaning it. "Everything set for this to play out as per the plan?"
"Sure is," Sutherland replied. "According to Cornell, Johnson sent him out here to facilitate a meeting between Lundt and some guy who's representing the alternate President."
"Sounds a bit unnecessary, don't you think? Sending Cornell all the way out here to set up a meeting. Sounds like something Lundt could have arranged himself."
"I agree. Sounds more like an excuse for Johnson to get Cornell out of England for a while."
"Never to return," said Morgan with a wry smile.
"Makes sense," agreed Sutherland. "The key thing is to be sure we can cover wherever this meeting's going to happen. Cornell doesn't know the location yet."
"What about local cops?" Morgan queried. "Any support?"
"Oh yeah. We're partnering with the New South Wales Police Counter Terrorism and Special Tactics Command. Our contact is a guy named Stojakovic. John Stojakovic. Police Inspector. Good man. Steady. He's already got surveillance teams organised and on station down at the Novotel. Cornell told me his instructions were to stay put at the hotel and wait to be contacted from there. The cops will shadow Cornell, monitor his phone and internet, and report developments to me. I'll then feed the info to your girl; she'll feed it straight to Johnson - as per his instructions to her - and he'll be none the wiser."
"As long as she can keep her wits. IfJohnson smells a rat, there's every possibility we'll lose him and Lundt."
"So far, Cornell hasn't met anyone, and hasn't used the phone or the net. We have to hope he sticks to the plan. This is his only possible chance to walk away without a life sentence, and I've made that crystal clear. No word on Lundt yet, but the Australian Federal Police are watching the airports for us."
"How's Arena dealing with the revelations about Johnson?" Morgan asked.
"OK, considering. But, I guess she'll talk through that with you.
Meanwhile, I'm about to meet Stojakovic for an update."
"Sounds good," said Morgan. "You need me to come along?"
"I got it covered, bud. You'd better get on," replied Sutherland. "Chow later?"
"Yeah, Dave, and a drink?" "You got it. Oh, and Alex..."
"Yes, mare," Morgan picked up his atrache case and turned back to Sutherland as a porter came and collected his luggage.
"I told Arena you were due in this afternoon," Sutherland said. "So, she's expecting you, and even seemed keen to see you. Must be something wrong with her after all. Anyway, she's pretty shook up about being sent out here by Johnson like a sitting duck. So, go easy. You and I both know that Celtic convict blood of yours has a tendency towards a fiery disposirion."