IT WASN’T OFTEN the vice president got to take his son to a Redskins game.

     Randy Adams was one of his biggest supporters. As the CEO of the second largest pharmaceutical company in America, he had season tickets to one of the poshest boxes close to the fifty-yard line, complete with a fully stocked wet bar, flat screens to watch the televised version of the game in full Sensurround, deep, comfortable, soft, leather recliners with their own stereo speakers mounted in the headrests -- it was cherry!

     No sooner had the third quarter started than Vice President McClure thought he heard someone call his name. He looked behind him. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the game.

     Vice President McClure -- if you can hear me, nod your head up and down, slowly.

     McClure asked Harrison, his Secret Service agent, “Did you hear that?”

     “Hear what?” Harrison stepped forward, leaning down to talk with the VP.

     “I guess it was nothing,” McClure said, as he slowly nodded.

     You’re in no danger, the voice said through the speakers in his chair. If I can continue, nod once -- slowly.

     McClure figured he had nothing to lose. He nodded.

     You’re out of the loop, the voice continued. The president is keeping the lid on what I am about to tell you. Should I go on?

     McClure nodded slowly.

     My name is Dave Ruskjer. I was falsely imprisoned.

     McClure slowly moved his head from side to side.

     The reason I’m talking to you is this: the president agrees that I’m innocent. He’s agreed to grant me the pardon. But he wants to wait six months until after the election.

     McClure paused to reflect before turning his head from side to side.

     That's what I hoped you would say, Ruskjer said.

     We’ll be in touch.

     McClure waited to see if there was any more to the message. When he was convinced there wasn’t, he flagged Harrison.

     “Someone’s tapped into the speakers in this chair. Whoever it is can see us -- or at least could.

     “Lock this place down and find him. He may be a threat to the president.”

     The fans weren’t happy about having to wait to exit the stadium.

     Police at each exit made them file out single file. Males between six feet and six foot four were pulled out for further scrutiny.

     Three and a half hours later no one matched the photo or written description.

     Meanwhile, a search of the box turned up a Bluetooth earpiece embedded into the speaker circuitry of the chair.

     Further searching found an iPhone in a flowerpot at the edge of the box window in line of sight with the front of the chair that McClure had been sitting in.

     As Maxwell Smart was fond of saying: “Foiled again!”