It was exactly eleven when Kegan saw Morse approaching. He leaned casually against the arch, calling out softly, “Good to see you again.”
Morse replied with a salute. “You made it.”
“Back? I told you I was on my way. Are you planning on staying down there? I’d rather not broadcast what I have to tell you to the world.”
“I feel the same,” Morse replied, although he didn’t move.
For a moment Kegan feared their plan was going to go south when Morse lifted his hand. He expected to see a gun. Instead, Morse used his hand to shield his eyes from the moonlight—Kegan thought—as he scanned the area. “You’re alone,” Morse said as he finally started up the stairs.
“Told you I would be,” Kegan replied laconically.
“And unarmed?” Morse asked, when he reached the step right below Kegan.
Kegan spread his arms. “Feel free to check.”
With a nod, Morse reached behind his back, pulled out a gun then stepped onto the terrace. “I think I will, just for safety’s sake,” he replied.