He saw Conley disappear into the stadium. He counted to one hundred and then emerged from between the cars, walking toward the gate. He could only hope the guards wouldn’t recognize him, with his current disguise, from the old photograph. If they did, this mission was over for him, and it was all up to Conley.
Morgan walked confidently to the nearest guard and presented his ticket. The man scanned it, saying courteously, “Good evening, sir.” He motioned for Morgan to open his arms and spread his legs, then ran the metal detector baton along the outline of Morgan’s frame. “Enjoy yourself, sir,” the guard said, waving him in. Morgan walked past the guard into the stadium, then breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sir! Hold on!”
Shit, he thought. Had they recognized him? Could he take on both guards at once? His mind raced to devise a strategy, and his eyes hunted his surroundings for possible ad hoc weapons. He turned around to face the guard.
“Yes?”
“Don’t want to forget this.” He had Morgan’s ticket in his hand. “They won’t let you in without it.”
Morgan thanked him and walked away, into the stadium. He went up a flight of stairs, and Conley was there waiting for him.
“No trouble?” Conley asked.
“All good,” he answered. They walked together up more stairs. There was another pair of security guards, dressed in sharp black suits. Morgan and Conley offered their tickets.
“That would be about halfway down and on your right,” said one of the guards, after examining the tickets.
The doors to the luxury boxes were on their right along an elegant wood-paneled hallway. The number of each box was emblazoned on the door. Together, they reached the one they had come for, number thirteen. Morgan caught Conley’s eye and held up three fingers. He counted down, and on his mark, he turned the knob, pushing the door open and rushing in, expecting violent resistance from T.
But, as they stood in the luxury box, with its lounge chairs and bar and wall-mounted high-definition TV, they didn’t see Natasha but rather just a man, handsome, silver-haired, looking at them indignantly.
“Nickerson!” Morgan gasped. He expected the senator to yell for help, but instead he composed himself and then looked at Morgan and Conley with controlled nonchalance.
“I can’t believe how shoddy the security in this place is,” Nickerson said.
Morgan twitched, ready to go for his jugular.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Nickerson. “All I have to do is call out, and there will be a dozen security guards in here.”
“So why haven’t you already?” asked Conley.
“Ah, you must be Cougar,” he said, with mild amusement. “Alive and kicking, I see. I’ll have to let Natasha know that she failed even worse than she thinks.”
He cleared his throat. “The reason I haven’t called the guards is that I have no interest in seeing you captured by them. I must admit, I thought you would have skipped the country by now. But the truth is, I don’t want to attract any attention to myself, which having two men arrested or killed in my box would certainly accomplish. So let me tell you what’s going to happen. You’ll have thirty seconds to leave this stadium before I let security know you’re here. You’ve gotten this far, but I doubt you will be able to evade them if they know you’re inside and what you’re wearing.”
“Or maybe I’d rather snap your neck before I go,” said Morgan.
“No doubt you’d like to. But we all know why you’re here today, and it’s not for me. She is not here, obviously, and your time is running out. Try anything, and I’ll yell. Even if you do manage to kill me, you will risk capture. Get captured, and there’s no one left to stop her. So, what will it be?”
Morgan’s fury was close to flash point, but Conley put his hand on Morgan’s shoulder, which calmed him enough to control himself.
“One day, sooner or later,” said Morgan, “you’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”
“I’m sure,” said Nickerson dismissively. “Now, off you go.”
Enraged, Morgan stormed out of the VIP box, with Conley behind him. They walked down the hallway they had come in through and past the two entrance guards, who merely regarded them blankly.
“I can’t believe we just left like that,” said Morgan.
“But he’s right, Cobra,” said Conley. “It’s a stalemate situation.”
“And meanwhile, we’re back at square one,” said Morgan.
“There are more than twenty thousand people in this stadium,” said Conley, “we have no idea where to even begin looking for T, and the speech is about to start. So the real pertinent question is, What now?”