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Okay, gang,” I said, “according to blueprints, there’s an elevator access panel on the east side of the building. We may get a little dirty, but—””I thought we’d just go through the doors,” Liz said, flashing three beautifully engraved invitations and some wonderfully authentic fake IDs.The tickets were $20,000 each. The Secret Service had been vetting the guest list for weeks, so Bex and I stopped beneath a streetlamp and studied Liz.”Do I even want to know where you got those?” I asked.Liz seemed to ponder it, and then she said, “No.
