Page 91 of The Presidents Shadow

NOTHING UNUSUAL OCCURS in the final moments of my meeting with Townsend. He promises to help me find Maddy, and, of course, I don’t actually believe him. I promise to share espionage info with him and the American government, and I’m certain he doesn’t believe me.

Our truce is based on the foundation for most mutual agreements in today’s world—anger, deceit, and total mistrust. Yet, one immediate positive result does emerge from this meeting: Townsend offers to allow me and my team to travel to Dubai on a secret military transport jet.

I assume that Townsend realizes that I may be suspicious of his generous offer. So he quickly adds that this gift of safe travel will be “impeccably secure” (his words). Then he adds more assurance.

“Let me put you at ease,” he tells me. “The national transport is equipped with a device that can detect and dissolve any airborne projectiles. It will automatically release, aim, and fire when any destructive geological material is within a two-hundred-mile radius.”

I have a question.

“Doesn’t that assume that a Terrageddon launch device will be tracking our flight to Dubai?” I ask. “What about another satellite attack exploding and destroying other places in the world?”

His eyes narrow as he looks at me and responds.

“You mean like the destruction that you allowed to happen in Peru?”

I have no defense for my ineptitude, which caused that tragedy. So Townsend fills the silence with more of his considerations.

“At least you and your team will be safe,” he says. “And just remember. This is merely the beginning of our offensive.”

Hmm. This sounds like an eminently reasonable assessment. But since it’s coming from Townsend, I’m scared of such deep concern and cold logic.

He speaks again. “I will be following your flight, and I will see to it that even if this Ambrose monster launches an attack, he will be destroyed before he can do harm.”

This confrontation could go on and on. Right now—whether Townsend is to be trusted or not—I must begin the search for Maddy.

“I think it’s time for me to get started,” I say. “I’ve got to first pick up my team and, of course, Margo.”

He smiles and speaks.

“Ah, of course, the lovely Margo, your elegant paramour. I hope to spend some quality time with her one of these days.”

My elegant paramour? That word, coming from Townsend, sounds vulgar and dirty. I am sure that’s why he phrased it that way, purposely ignoring the fact that she’s my wife. My blood is boiling.

Townsend presses a button on his computer, and within seconds, two armed security guards enter the room.

“These gentlemen will escort you to the aircraft,” Townsend says. “I sincerely hope that you are pleased with this situation.”

“I guess I don’t have much choice,” I say.

Townsend’s smile cannot mask his pleasure at holding my fate in his hands.

“Good luck,” he says.

Should I say “I’ll need it”? Should I say “Thank you”?

I decide to say nothing. The security guards and I head out.