They both got dressed. Halley wore a form-fitting white suit. He hated to admit it sort of made her look like the sacrificial lamb. But white was her choice. They took a cab over to the Grand Fordham, because it was random and anonymous and breaking a routine, which was important for today.
The cab driver smelled of pot, which annoyed Morgan. It also annoyed him that Gibril had thought he and J.J. were gay.
“So Gibril will meet you up on stage, then? He’s going to be in the wings?”
He knew this would be safe, because orders were for everyone to go through a metal detector, even the stage crew and cameraman. And there would be at least three snipers in the rafters checking out the crowd below, as well as everything behind the curtain. Halley was having the show taped for later airing. Morgan thought that was a rather bold move.
“Yes. He’s meeting his niece in the audience, and then he’ll join us backstage.”
“What are you going to say to him when he discovers I am not really a pot farmer?”
The cabbie raised his eyebrows and peered into the mirror at him for the remark.
“I’ll let you figure that out.” She opened her computer and sent her notes to the technician preparing the teleprompters. After she hit send, she took a deep breath and closed her laptop. “All done. Just in case, though, in case they screw it up, I want you to hold onto my computer.”
“I’m going to have my hands full, Halley.”
“We’ll know right away if their system is working, and I’ll take the computer back from you. Just keep it in my bag, okay?”
Of course there was no problem with this. His main job was to stay as close to her as possible, and, if need be, take the bullet for her. If Gibril was there too, he could protect the other side of her.
They arrived at the rear, passing the main entrance of the building. Crowds of women were standing on the steps, taking selfies, and hugging their buddies. Morgan was proud of the positive attitude and number of smiling faces he saw. He looked at the top of the building and noted a well-placed agent, crouching behind the concrete façade of a winged angel. He was watching the steps below with binoculars.
Morgan paid the cabbie and escorted Halley through the service entrance. He recognized the look of the Delta Force guy who opened the door for them.
“Thank you for being here,” he said.
“Just doin’ my job. Thanks for having me. You look wonderful, Miss Hansen.”
Halley smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.
“There. Don’t say I never gave you anything,” Morgan whispered.
A hotel representative showed Halley to the green room for her makeup. A red bouquet of roses waited there as well. “I see a pattern here.”
“He knows I love roses. Read me the card,” she said as she got up into the makeup artists chair and let her begin.
The envelope was sealed, and the handwriting was very small. “You lead women to—” Morgan had to stop. This was a threat.
Halley instantly sat up and brushed the artist to the side. “What did you say? That’s the same as the email I got.”
“I’m not reading this to you. You don’t need it. But I’m calling J.J. and have to get it to him.”
“No. Don’t leave me. You get someone else to deliver it,” Halley demanded. “Before you call him, tell me what this means.”
“It means they’re trying to scare you, play with you. Get you to focus on the wrong thing while they carry out their plan. Don’t let them win, but, Halley, I have to get this to somebody right away.”
She nodded. Morgan called J.J., who promised to send one of the guard detail.
“Hey, Morgan, you hear from Stanley yet today?” J.J. asked him.
“Nope. Not a word. I take it you haven’t, either.”
“That’s right. And Taylor hasn’t talked to him in two days.”
“Probably means he’s in real deep.”
“Should I try to call him?”
“He’s smart enough to turn off his phone when he has to, but let’s not take that risk. Have your guys looking out for him, both here and outside the entrance. And text me when you find him, okay?”
“Sure. Sending someone down now.”
The knock at the door confirmed J.J.’s promise. Morgan handed him the note.
The guard read it over and glanced at the roses. “Those better come out of here.”
Morgan hadn’t thought about that.
The guard turned to the makeup artist. “Ma’am, were these in here when you got here?”
“Yes, they were.”
“I’m sorry, but we’re switching rooms. There’s a smaller green room down at the end of the hallway. You take that. Don’t know how it happened, but we gotta sweep the entire backstage now.”
Morgan spoke into a microphone on his lapel. Then he turned to Halley. “I’m going to punch someone’s lights out for this,” he said.
Two other guards arrived to escort the three of them down the hall. Morgan told J.J. what had happened. The flowers were whisked away and a large German Shepherd was lead in by a leash.
“This room been searched?” Morgan asked.
Both guards nodded. Halley sat down and resumed her makeup. Morgan excused himself to the outer hallway, the guards right behind him, and watched them blend into the considerable traffic of technicians go back and forth. A young girl with headphones on arrived. “I’m Dorey, production assistant. She’s on in thirty minutes. Either of you need anything?”
“Yes, I’d like to know how those roses got in her dressing room?”
“She had a pass.”
“Who did?”
“The lady with the flowers. She had a backstage pass.”
Morgan turned to open the door and found it locked. He kicked it in. Halley was on the ground. The makeup artist bent over her, ready to inject her with a needle. Morgan gripped her wrist, twisted the woman’s arm backward, and heard a satisfying cracking sound as he fractured the two bones in her forearm. She screamed, and immediately Morgan twisted her neck and dropped her lifeless body to the ground.
Halley had walked backward like a crab, her eyes wide and filled with horror. Her fingers rubbed her neck, pulling off a silk scarf that had been used in an attempt to strangle her. Morgan picked her up in his arms. A small crowd had gathered outside the door he’d smashed in.
Halley was still in shock. “Are you okay?” he asked her. “Did she hurt you?”
“No, but how—I don’t understand.”
Morgan recognized the signs of emotional trauma common after a physical attack. “Get her some water right now. And can you quickly get another artist?”
“No! No more of that,” Halley protested. I don’t want anyone here I don’t know.”
“That’s smart thinking. Maybe you could use—” He opened up the artist’s bag and found a small bomb made very crudely. One thing he did recognize was the plastic bag of ammonium nitrate strapped with duct tape to what looked like an incendiary device. He threw his jacket over the whole kit, and handed it to one of the guards outside. “Dispose of this as quickly as possible and then get back here.” The guard began a near jog, weaving his way around the stage crews until he exited a manned door. Less than a minute later, they all heard an explosion.
“Oh my God. I hope he’s okay,” cried Halley.
“We’re going back to Plan A,” said Morgan. He carried Halley back to the original dressing room. The dogs were being lead out.
“We’re clear, Morgan,” one of the security detail whispered.
Dorey handed her a cold bottled water and then said, “Let me get my purse. I have some stage makeup in it.”
“Dorey, forget it,” Halley blurted out, grabbing her arm. “Would you make sure the teleprompter is working correctly? Tell me what they’ve cued up first.”
“You got it. I’ll be back in two minutes.”
Morgan took her in his arms. “Baby, we don’t have to do this. Should we call this off?”
&nb
sp; “No. I’m not going to let them do this to us! I’m not quitting!”
Morgan’s phone rang with J.J.’s number.
“Okay, San Jose P.D. is on the makeup woman, and the bomb squad investigators are on what’s left of the kit. No one hurt.” J.J. briefed him.
“That’s good news.”
“Fast work there, stud. Anyway, we have another problem. We’ve found Stanley, barely alive. His throat was cut. They’re taking him to the hospital, but we’re not sure he’s going to make it.”
“Oh shit.” Morgan noted Halley was hearing part of the conversation.
“Good thing we had paramedics on scene already. I think he’d not have a chance otherwise. I’ve got to send one of the guard detail to stay with him.”
“Does Taylor know?”
“Yes. He’s still in Stockton. Said Stanley agreed to drive someone to the event.”
“Any idea who?”
“He said it was a couple. So there are two more we haven’t got to yet. He’s found someone who is willing to cooperate and is getting more information as we speak.”
“So nobody saw this happening?”
“Stanley was just standing in line to get in, and evidently they got him from behind. Witnesses just thought he’d tripped. So now we’re one guard and one man short. That changes things.”
“And we are looking for a female as well as a man,” Morgan whispered, watching Halley become calm, morphing into a woman of steel right before his eyes.
“Yup, and ninety-five percent of the audience is women. She’s gonna blend in, for sure.”
Morgan was amazed Halley wasn’t more fearful now than before. But if anything, her resolve had grown. Her jaw locked tight. Her eyes didn’t waver, nor filled with emotion. She was set. All set. Locked and loaded.
J.J. asked again, “You sure she wants to go on and do this? I think it’s folly, myself. That’s two close calls already in one night.”
Morgan held the phone up to Halley’s mouth. “Your call, sweetheart. Tell him what you want.”
Halley blurted out, “It’s showtime, J.J. Now don’t ask me again.”
Chapter 22
Halley brushed off her skirt as best she could. She’d ask the cameraman not to film that side. She combed her hair quickly, reapplied lipstick, and tried to take some of the sweat off her face from the altercation. Morgan watched her in the mirror, from behind.
“Wicked beautiful. I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
“What am I going to do, run? Would you run?”
Touche.
“Besides, I got the best of the best at my side. We’ve found a bomb, disabled an assassin, discovered we’re still looking for two more people, and found some holes in the operation that I’m sure you’ve plugged up. There’s nothing I can do except give the crowd what they want to hear, and the bad guys a heart attack.”
He grabbed her, pulling her face toward him with both hands. “Remember, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He wound up with half her red lipstick all over his handsome kisser. She wasn’t going to tell him, just let him wear the red until someone else blabbed. He’d like that, she thought.
“You have the computer?”
“Yup, right here.” He pointed to the chair. “Won’t leave my side.”
Dorey popped her head in, handing her the headset she’d use on stage and adjusting the battery pack under her jacket on her skirt waistband. “Can you test for me, Halley?”
“Can you hear me okay?”
Dorey nodded when she got confirmation the engineer had her signal. “Okay, it’s time.”
“They got the teleprompter set up with the notes?”
“Oh, sorry! Yes. They’re all set.”
Dorey opened the door and searched right and left. She took Halley’s arm, leading her in the opposite direction from the bevy of police at the end of the hall and up a half-flight of stairs to the stage wings. Halley had a vice grip on Morgan’s hand, but he stayed right with her. She took strength from the way he gripped her hand back, almost to the point of it hurting.
Gibril was there and greeted her with a big smile. “What the hell’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you later. Thanks for coming. How’s your niece?”
“I can’t find her. But there are just too many people. It was a madhouse getting back here.”
“Good.” Morgan leaned in. He waved at Gibril, who looked totally confused.
“Jeff? Or was it Hank?”
“Very good, neither. I’m Morgan. Halley’s ex.” He extended his hand. “Nice to formally meet you Gibril.”
Halley tried to concentrate on the first lines of her speech, but saw it was Gibril who told Morgan about the lipstick, even handing him one of his monogramed handkerchiefs.
The cameraman sidled up to her. “Announcing you now. Get ready.”
“Don’t film this side.” She turned and showed him the dark smudge from her fall in the dressing room.
“Not a problem, Halley.”
They heard the announcer and then the applause. Spotlights were turned on. She sucked in air and remembered her vow to make it the best speech of her life. Like doing a spacewalk, she let go of Morgan’s hand, her last tether to safety, and floated out into the light, walking on the rose petals she’d had laid out under her feet. The heady aroma calmed her. She waved to the crowd as a sea of cell phone flashes went off. She took the time to wave into the upper decks at the very corners, and scanned the front row, shaking a few hands of people she recognized from her previous events.
“Say it with me right now and make it count.” She hesitated so everyone could get ready, and in unison, the whole building roared, “Ladies, start your engines.”
The cheering was raucous and it did help ease her jitters, which had started the second she’d let go of Morgan’s hand.
“Do I have a tale to tell you tonight!”
Again she received applause. She heard Morgan’s phone ring and she turned to see him put it to his ear.
“I don’t know if you heard that, but would you please turn off your cell phones?”
She was going to wink at Morgan, but he was engrossed in his call. So she took another deep breath.
“Tonight, you and I are going to stand for the impossible. We are going to do something completely ridiculous. We’re going to change our lives forever. All our lives,” she said as she pointed with a sweeping arm to the crowd.
Again, the applause and even whistles filled the room.
“Show me by hands, who knows how to do that—whistle?”
Several arms shot up.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to whistle like a man. You’ve got to teach me, okay? That’s the other seminar we do. Whistling in the face of danger. Laughing at our fears and becoming the best we that we can be. Who’s for that?”
Hands waved, and again, the audience loved it.
“Would you believe there are those who are afraid of new ideas? Who don’t think women should have the kind of power they’ve really had for centuries. Who do you think gave birth to all the great thinkers, inventors, and doers in the world, huh?”
The audience shouted out, “women.”
“We all know the Ginger Rogers of the female population, don’t we? The ones who keep up with Fred Astaire, except they do it backwards and in high heels, right? Well, tonight we all are going to be Ginger Rogers. We’re going to dance our way into the history books.”
She waited for the clapping to stop.
“Tonight, we’re going to do something that others said couldn’t be done.”
She looked above her, saw faces of men dressed in uniforms, and the basket of rose petals that would fall at the end of her talk. She looked to the right and to the left of the stage, making eye contact with the cameramen, Morgan, Gibril, and Dorey.
“Are you ready?”
The audience shouted “ready!”
“Now, if I don’t look entirely perfect tonight, we’ve had
a little altercation backstage. All ably taken care of, thank you.” She bowed to Morgan and smiled at Gibril, who looked shocked again.
“There are those who want to silence me, not because I’m telling you anything that’s bad for you or for our planet, but because I bring you a message of hope, understanding for what you’ve been through, and a promise to stay by your side as long as I can be.”
Halley decided it was time to pay attention to the teleprompter, which was still stuck on, ‘Welcome to Success Summit, ladies.’
“And you know who taught me that? You taught me that. With your outpouring of love, your willingness to become something greater than the already-great you that exists. Because of our collective stubbornness to continually learn, transform, and spread the joy and hope that is all around us.”
The teleprompter wasn’t moving. Was she going to have to wing the whole forty-five minutes? She was about to launch into her Definition of Success.
At last, the words on the two sides moved, and in her greeting’s place, someone had hand-written a message, that read,
You lead women on a path to their own destruction.
Chapter 23
“—and he said she’d been promised in marriage to the cleric, but refused. He had her kidnapped and raped her.”
Morgan had one eye on Halley under the glowing lights of the stage, and the other on Gibril, who was clearly mesmerized with her presence. He’d found he couldn’t hate the man anymore.
Taylor continued. “Well, she got pregnant, and—get this—this guy told me she had an abortion. She’d wanted to go to college, have a life like so many of her friends had in California. A career. Her family found out about it, and—”
Morgan could see where all this was going, and it connected to Gibril. Taylor was jabbering about Gibril’s niece. Morgan whispered to the cameraman, who was not happy.
Bachelor SEAL (Sleeper SEALs Book 5) Page 17
