Chapter 14
THE MOMENT TOWNSEND disembarks, I’m ready and waiting.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, I remember how everything about him sickens me—the phony smile, the extended arm waiting for a handshake, the retinue of flunkies. I do not return the smile. I do not shake his hand. I ignore the army of subordinates.
I recall all too well the betrayals past world leaders like him have foisted upon me. And now I remember the expression that has guided me in the past: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
“Lamont, my friend. I come to beg for a favor,” he says, his face serious.
“You’ve come to the wrong place, Townsend.”
“The greater good, Lamont. Let us put the past behind us. Without our combined resources, the world could conceivably end. The tragedy of Kyoto, the—”
I enjoy interrupting him.
“I don’t need a current events class,” I say. “And you’re not on camera right now, so cut the speech.” But Townsend keeps talking.
“Then let’s discuss how we can help humankind by helping each other.”
This is the artificial sincerity he’s so good at. He continues his infuriating charade.
“Let’s go inside, just you and me. Let’s talk. Make a plan. Secure the future.”
I am burning with anger, remembering how two other world powers once deceived me when they tried to seize a superweapon—a deception that almost led to the end of the world.
“Look,” he says. “I understand your hesitation. But I need you. The destruction of Kyoto, the obliteration of Denmark. I need your advice. I need your help.”
I can’t take it anymore.
“No president of the Americas will ever again have my help, Townsend. Here’s what I advise: turn around immediately, climb back up those steps, get back into your stupid flying machine, and get the hell out of here.”