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“They can’t exactly go back home,” McCarthy says. “Not after the things they’ve seen. When the people who hired them are finished, they’re sent to a confidential research lab outside of Sacramento.”

He begins to explain. He tells Maddy and Belinda that there is a medical research lab in a town named Rancho Cordova. There the abducted victims are injected with a very specific dose of Newbola. Then they are reassigned to foreign dignitaries and global celebrities—from CEOs in Japan to university professors in South America, sheiks in the Mideast and presidents in Africa—so they can spread the horrendous disease around the known world.

“Do you know the specific locations?” asks Maddy.

“I heard that some were sent to Japan, some to Denmark. And, like you already know, we were working to get some girls to Dubai.”

“That’s what you injected us with, isn’t it?” Maddy asks, horrified.

“Yes,” McCarthy admits. “But don’t get all freaked out about it. The strain that the abductees are injected with is a special, dormant kind. The carriers can’t drop dead; they wouldn’t be very useful, then, would they?”

Maddy and Belinda are, of course, horrified by the revelation. Maddy wonders if the injection of Newbola affected her differently than Belinda because of her innate powers.

“These places you mention were struck by Terrageddon,” says Maddy. “That means there’s a connection between the kidnapped kids, the spread of Newbola, and the natural disasters that are destroying the world.”

Belinda nods in agreement.

They both look at McCarthy. The sneer on his face has disappeared. His shoulders have slumped forward. His eyed are partially closed.

“Is that what’s going on, McCarthy? Is Glenn Ambrose working with Carla Spector to disperse Newbola far and wide?”

“Wait. I think he passed out,” says Belinda.

“As soon as he comes to I have a lot more questions that need answering,” says Maddy. “If the Newbola strain that the carriers are injected with isn’t meant to kill them, it’spossible we could still find kids like Chloe and Travis alive.”

The only problem is that Detective McCarthy can’t answer their questions.

He’s dead.

CHAPTER 113

THE LIFE-GIVING POWERS of the earth nurtured me through the close shave in Africa. Now recovered, I sit and listen at home while Maddy updates us about her extraordinary confrontation with the late Detective McCarthy, who had ultimately made use of a cyanide capsule under his tongue. At one point, he knew he’d said too much and would never be forgiven by Carla Spector.

Margo is shocked and furious at Maddy’s revelations. I am shocked and furious and—I must also admit—proud of Maddy.

With the vital information that Maddy gives, I believe, more than ever, that another expedition—this time to East Africa—is the only way to combat Newbola Strong, and possibly advance some sort of solution or defense to the Terrageddon crisis. The sooner the better. And by “sooner” I mean immediately.

I was unprepared on my first attempt, and possibly still in a weakened state. Quite simply I believe that the returnjourney I will soon undertake is the most important mission I have ever had and will ever have. I also realize without a doubt that it could be my final mission.

There is a group of evildoers at the root of these exceptional tragedies. From Carla Spector to Glenn Ambrose, but who knows how much further their circle extends? It could be anyone from Townsend to Khan. One of them? All of them? It is my job to find out. Then it is my job to do something about it.

I organize my thoughts. Then I gather my colleagues and inform them of my plans. I begin my remarks with an honest note of reality and humility.

“I realize that I am the person in this group who is fortunate enough to have special powers. The ability to shape-shift, the ability to exert control over the minds of others, the ability to defy the structure of time and space. But these powers can weaken and disappear without warning. Thus, I need strong and smart and faithful colleagues on this mission. It will be a tough, smart, and small group.”

Everyone is standing very still. I now say what they all want to know.

“Margo will accompany me. If I am the power in this project, she is the brains.”

My wife’s face remains placid. She knows that this is not idle flattery on my part. I really mean it, and, deep inside herself, I sense Margo knows that this is true.

“Maddy and Grandma Jessica will remain here in New York.”

I can easily tell that Maddy is disappointed… no, not just disappointed, angry. But she knows that this is not the time for protest.

“We’ll keep everything in top form,” says Jessica. Then she turns to Maddy and says, “Won’t we, Maddy?”

Maddy says, “Of course.” I believe she’s frustrated by being excluded, but I hope she will come to see the wisdom of my decisions.