Page 84 of The Presidents Shadow

Right now, in the two-seater front section of the vessel, sit two angry, unhappy passengers.

They are tightly buckled in, with twine and cables binding their hands and feet.

They are being nourished by feeding tubes, which are looped around their seatbacks.

The ramjet engines are so loud that conversation is completely impossible, even without their gags.

The two very unhappy passengers have been informed the flight time is three hours from takeoff to landing.

Suddenly, the plane makes a dive-bomb descent. It feels like a crash landing is about to occur, but then, within seconds, the plane lands softly on the ground. From the small windows, the two passengers see only endless miles of sand and bright sky.

In less than a minute, the plane doors open and the two passengers appear on the landing strip. It is not Laksa and Dache; they are safely in Tibet already. It is not Lamont and Margo. They are still in New York, anxiously hatching a plan for moving forward.

The two passengers are Maddy and Belinda.

They emerge blindfolded and handcuffed, accompanied by Detective McCarthy and three other men Maddy continues to think of as stooges.

She can hear them all talking to one another even though she can’t see anything.

She assumes the two new men—whose voices are unfamiliar—must have been sequestered in the rear section of the plane.

All four men shove the women out onto the tarmac. Maddy estimates that the heat level surrounding them is 110 degrees Fahrenheit at minimum. The air is so dry and hot that when she takes a deep breath, her throat and nose are filled with pain.

“Move fast and watch your pretty little heads,” says one of the new stooges. Within a few seconds Maddy and Belinda are pushed into an RV.

“Now that you are safely on board, we can remove the blindfolds,” they hear McCarthy say. “Let them enjoy the scenery during the ride.”

Two stooges remove the blindfolds, then unlock the handcuffs. To Maddy’s surprise, all four men then exit the vehicle. The only other person in the RV is the driver, a young man with a mustache and beard, wearing a black helmet.

As the RV makes its way along at an insanely high speed on a deserted highway, Maddy and Belinda begin to talk.

Belinda asks, “Do you have any freaking idea where we are?”

Maddy begins to answer. “No, it could be the moon for all I know. Maybe it’s—” But she is interrupted by the driver’s voice on the intercom.

“Kindly shut the hell up. We have work to do.” Maddy and Belinda trade looks of confusion with each other.

Then the driver talks again.

“I call your attention to the plastic bags under your seats, one each. There you will find fresh clothes to replace what you are wearing.”

Belinda and Maddy reach under their seats. The bags they find contain normal-looking street clothes.

“What the hell?” says Belinda. “How did you know my size?”

Maddy looks at her own outfit—a fashionable yet nondescript outfit that any young person her age could wear on the street and blend right in—exactly like the girls who were selling drugs under the bridge back home.

It looks like Belinda and Maddy have been relocated for work—probably because Maddy let on to McCarthy that she knew the green Escalade was involved in the disappearances of kids like Chloe and Travis.

In the middle of a desert, in a locked speeding vehicle, in a horrible new world with crazy people and killers, Maddy invokes her lessons from Dache. If she connects with her mental powers she can control the driver and force him to take them somewhere safe. Not… wherever it is they are going.

She tries hard for major mind clearing and concentration. She can feel her muscles begin to spasm mildly, then more vigorously.

She remembers that Dache’s lessons have not always helped her. Yes, she thinks, the power has often eluded her. Yet at other times it has helped her splendidly.

Yes, it’s happening now. Maddy will put an end to this terror.

Her arms strengthen. Her leg muscles tighten. She stands, feels power flooding her.

But then… damnit all… then… she starts to feel weak. She starts to feel dizzy. Her legs betray her, and she falls to the ground. She is not collapsing, but she certainly is not connecting with her power.

What the hell? What did McCarthy and the other goon inject them with?

“Belinda,” Maddy asks, her voice weak. “How do you feel?”

“Feel?” Belinda repeats, astonished. “Like a kidnapping victim, that’s how I feel.”

“No,” Maddy says. “I mean—”

The voice of the driver, on the intercom, comes through loud and clear.

“Girls! Stop screwing around. Just put on your clean clothes. Right now!”