Chapter 10
“Oh my goodness, Your Honor....” No, that’s how you address a judge. “Your Excellency.” Am I suggesting the President of the United States is a sultan? “Sir.” Okay, that’s just plain sad.
No wonder the injured head of state turned away without speaking, his face contorted with what at first appeared to be pain before settling into the red-cheeked bluster of anger.
And, yeah, I’d just tossed a prehistoric cat tooth at him. But the President I’d seen interviewed on 60 Minutes was soft-spoken even when discussing g******e. There was definitely something wrong with Jim Kelter, something that filled the air between us with a strange sort of electricity that prickled at my forearms and raised hairs along the back of my neck.
My instincts told me to run away from the airplane, back
