The Eleventh Commandment

Lawrence was able to recall an appropriate fact or anecdote about every person he was introduced to, including the little old man wearing a Redskins blazer who couldn’t possi

bly have been a former player.

‘This is Pug Washer,’ said John Kent Cooke, placing a hand on the old man’s shoulder. ‘Now, he …’

‘… is the only man in history to make the Redskins Hall of Fame without playing a single game for the team,’ said the President.

A huge smile appeared on Pug’s face.

‘And I’m also told that you know more about the history of the team than any living person.’

Pug promised himself he would never vote Republican again.

‘So tell me, Pug, in Packers versus Skins games, what were Vince Lombardi’s regular-season points when he was coaching the Packers, compared to his year with the Skins?’

‘Packers 459, Skins 435,’ said Pug with a rueful smile.

‘Just as I thought - he should never have left the Packers in the first place,’ said the President, slapping Pug on the back.

‘Do you know, Mr President,’ said Cooke, ‘I’ve never been able to come up with a question about the Redskins that Pug wasn’t able to answer.’

‘Has anyone ever stumped you, Pug?’ asked the President, turning to the walking encyclopaedia again.

‘They try all the time, Mr President,’ Pug replied. ‘Why, only yesterday a man …’

Before Pug could complete his sentence, Andy Lloyd touched Lawrence’s elbow. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but we’ve just been informed that President Zerimski is only five minutes away from the stadium. You and Mr Cooke should make your way to the north-east entrance now, so that you’ll be in time to welcome him.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Lawrence. He turned to Pug and said, ‘Let’s continue our conversation just as soon as I get back.’

Pug nodded as the President and his entourage left the room to go and greet Zerimski.

‘It’s a bit cramped in here,’ Connor shouted above the noise of the large ventilation fan in the ceiling.

‘Sure is,’ said Arnie, finishing off his Diet Coke. ‘But I guess it goes with the job.’

‘Are you expecting any trouble today?’

‘Nope, not really. Of course, we’ll all be on full alert the moment the two Presidents walk out onto the field, but that only lasts for about eight minutes. Although if Special Agent Braithwaite had his way, neither of them would be allowed out of the owner’s box until it was time for them to go home.’

Connor nodded and asked several more innocuous questions, listening carefully to Arnie’s Brooklyn accent, and concentrating especially on any expressions he used regularly.

As Arnie dug his teeth into a slice of chocolate cake, Connor looked through a gap in the rotating advertising boards. Most of the Secret Service officers in the stadium were also taking a snack break. He focused on the lighting tower behind the western end zone. Brad was up there listening intently to an officer who was pointing towards the owner’s box. Just the sort of young man the Service needed to recruit, thought Connor. He turned back to Arnie. ‘I’ll see you again at the start of the game. A plate of sandwiches, another slice of cake and some more Coke suit you?’

‘Yep, sounds great. But go easy on the cake. I don’t mind my wife telling me I’ve put on a few pounds, but lately the SAIC has begun to comment on it.’

A siren sounded to let all the staff in the stadium know it was ten thirty, and the gates were about to be opened. The fans began to flood into the stands, most of them heading straight for their usual seats. Connor gathered up the empty Coke can and the plastic container and placed them on the tray.

‘I’ll be back with your lunch when the game kicks off,’ he said.

‘Yep,’ replied Arnie, his binoculars now focused on the crowd below. ‘But don’t come in until after the two Presidents are back in the owner’s box. No one else is allowed in the JumboTron while they’re out on the field.’

‘OK, I understand,’ said Connor, taking a last look at Arnie’s rifle. As he turned to go, he heard a voice coming over a two-way radio.

‘Hercules 3.’

Arnie unclipped the radio from the back of his belt, pressed a button and said, ‘Hercules 3, go ahead.’

Connor hesitated by the door.