Page 71 of The Presidents Shadow

The lights come back on. The aircraft begins to straighten out and calm down. As do I.

What did Margo do that the rest of us failed to do? The four men look at her in shock and joy and total puzzlement. She sees how astonished we are.

“It’s a good thing I’m the one who gives Bando his medications,” Margo says, lifting an eyebrow.

I’m too tired to understand. Hawkeye, Burbank, and Tapper continue to stare at her. She sighs at how slow we are.

“Ever heard of ‘push down and turn’?” she asks. “This dial performs a very important task; they don’t want just anyone accidentally bumping into it.”

“It’s childproof!” Hawkeye shouts.

“Well, itisinstalled on a government aircraft,” Margo adds.

We have avoided a catastrophe of enormous consequence, thanks to Margo.

And, of course, I realize now that Townsend betrayed us utterly. He must have alerted Ambrose to our flight, leaving us at the mercy of a madman.

We are all still anxious and shaking, but we are safe, at least temporarily.

I am hating myself for allowing myself to be so smoothly deceived by Townsend. If I had any more tears inside me, I would weep. But I’m tired of crying. First for Jericho, and then for Maddy. I’m tired of being one step behind and blundering ahead.

I scream what I feel, “That bastard. That evil devil. That filth. That monster.”

But it is only after this outburst, as I sense a personal power and force from within me, that I realize our salvation comes with another reward.

Glenn Ambrose just suffered his first failure.

CHAPTER 93

WE ROAM THE streets of Dubai searching for Maddy. I have no words of inspiration for Margo, for my team, for myself. Anything I might say would be empty, useless. We wander the city, learning it as we go.

The place itself is a mass of contrasts. Emirati men in dark kanduras. Emirati women in colorful abayas. Others, presumably tourists or those on business, are in Ralph Lauren and Armani. While the streets are bustling, they are not nearly as full as I had expected for such a large city.

Around every corner, we look, we search, we call her name. Maddy? Maddy? People sidestep us, annoyed as they try to move about their daily lives with us in their way.

Both Margo and I try to use our powers to look through walls, to transform ourselves into flying creatures, to jump from street to building to park to restaurant. Anyplace. Anywhere.

The rest of the team check in with their contacts in thearea, meet with people who might know something, and, of course, walk the streets themselves.

With a touch of hope, we visit the vast Dubai Mall, full of luxury retail stores, movie theaters, and high-end restaurants. The day grows darker, but the weather remains stiflingly hot.

“A little bit of food would help,” says Margo. “It’s been quite a while since we’ve eaten.”

“Energy,” Hawkeye says. “We need food for energy.”

Like all of us, he does not want to put his needs above the focus on our mission. But he and Margo are correct. We need sustenance if we are to succeed.

When we do agree to fuel up, we find, ironically, ridiculously, that we are standing outside a restaurant called Somewhere.

Yes, of course Maddy is somewhere. The thought is both comforting and infuriating.

We order, and dishes with unexpected combinations of ingredients arrive. Chinese-style dumplings with Mexican flavors. Barbecued Greek-style grilled chicken breasts with a Canadian maple-flavored sauce. Lovely though the food might be, and hungry as we all are, we are mostly interested in hydrating ourselves with seltzer water and chai tea.

Our waiter, a sweet-looking young woman who wears a burgundy hijab covering her hair, her neck, and much of her chin, delivers a second pot of tea along with a third bottle of sparkling water.

The young woman finishes her delivery and walks away.Tapper tells us that she has dropped a small piece of paper on his lap. The paper is folded into a neat triangle.

“The check?” asks Margo.

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