Page 77 of The Presidents Shadow

I HAVE LEARNED from experience—perhaps more experience than I ever wanted—that if you are working against time and evil, there is just one thing to do: make a plan. Dache taught me long ago that the best plans usually have the highest risk. And the best way to proceed is to accept the risk.

I’ve got Dache’s words in mind as I imagine how to capture Dr. Laksa’s terrible acolyte, Glenn Ambrose. But I can’t help but remember Margo’s words after she swam out of Delaware Bay: Next time, Lamont—a better plan would be nice.

But with the fate of the entire world on my shoulders, and time of the essence, I also need to come up with something fast. If I can capture and destroy this horrid genius, I can ultimately stop him from using Terrageddon.

High risk. High reward.

My plan? With the travel ban scheduled to end, I will convince Glenn Ambrose that Laksa is traveling to the Scientific University of the South in Peru.

Then I will have the college officials evacuate the campus.

With the false information we’ve provided, Ambrose will believe that Laksa is back in his office in Peru.

Once he’s made good on this threats by unleashing Terrageddon on an empty campus, we will track the satellite’s route and, hopefully, discover Ambrose’s location. Poland? Norway? Samoa? Ohio? Wherever.

We will find him. We will destroy him. We will… Well, we will save the world.

I, of course, discuss this idea with Laksa, and to my surprise and satisfaction, he agrees to participate without hesitation. He is willing to be the bait. I realize for certain that I am dealing with a person who is both extremely smart and extremely brave.

First, I ask Burbank to use his superior skills to tap into government travel databases.

I know he can do that. He will create an entirely false flight to Peru, which will appear as completely booked to anyone else who might be trying to travel into the city.

Then he will fabricate plane tickets in Laksa’s name and send them via email, where Ambrose will be sure to spot them.

Then I give Margo the task of writing bogus emails to be sent out as if they were actually written by Laksa.

Margo has the creative skills to monitor Laksa’s old emails and then mimic his tone and style.

The mix of phony emails filled with serious, official-sounding phrases, interspersed with ordinary everyday messages (“I am wondering if the antique Picasso lithograph is still available?”) will be meticulously constructed so that it appears Laksa has no idea he is being monitored. I know Margo can do this.

It’s a very risky plan. My companions and I will have a very short time between the evacuation of the campus and Ambrose’s launch of the geological disaster.

During that time, Burbank, with Jericho helping remotely from the UNC campus, must find and identify the specific satellite signal Ambrose uses to deploy Terrageddon, so that we can track his location.

It could be coming from India or Indiana, China or Cheyenne, anywhere on earth—and maybe even beyond.

Now I know what Dache meant by high risk, high reward. Gotta go. Gotta do it.

We are fortunately off to a good start.

Within twenty-four hours, Burbank has the tickets delivered to Laksa’s inbox, all while Margo keeps a steady stream of emails coming from the account. By all indications, Laksa is leading life as normal, with no suspicions he is being monitored.

My job is to convince the dean of the Scientific University of the South in Peru that his entire campus needs to be evacuated and shut down.

I expect resistance and have a string of arguments prepared, but the dean is happy to comply—none of the major institutions of learning across the world wants to be the site of the next tragedy.

Then it happens. The fake flight to Peru takes off. Will this plan of mine actually save this sad, threatened world of ours?