Beginning on page 215...............

There is nothing worse than a hangover, except maybe having one without the foreplay of intoxication. My head is floating several feet above my body. If I can just get my eyes open, maybe I'll be able to locate the rest of my body. Raising my eyebrows in an exaggerated gesture, I struggle to lift my upper lids away from the lower ones. A sliver of light! Ah, it's working. There it is. Eyes wide open.

Where the hell am I? Looking around, it's obvious that I am no longer in the brownstone unless captains' chairs and portholes with sliding shades were installed while I was in my transitory coma. I lean toward the window. No doubt about it. We are in the clouds.

I am distracted by the aches and pains that are everywhere present in my body. My legs are aching. My arms still feel like they're weighted down. Now that I've leaned against the window, I can't seem to sit upright again.

"Grady," I murmur. It started out as a shout but disintegrated before it even left my vocal chords. I try clearing my throat. It doesn't help.

"Ah, Miss Gray. Got yourself in an awkward position, I'd say." Grady catches hold of my shoulder and pulls me off the window. He places each of my arms on a seat arm to balance me.

"What?" That is all I can manage.

"It was necessary to subdue you until we were in flight. Less messy."

"Messy?" I ask. My voice seems to be improving with use, but it is still difficult to talk.

"This way I didn't have to cold-cock you. I really doubt if you would have cooperated otherwise." Grady seems to be enjoying his role as villain.

"Thank you for that," I say facetiously.

"You're very welcome! By the way, once we land, you will be drugged again so that we can travel to our destination."

"What if I promise to cooperate?" I ask. "I mean, could we skip the drug thing? I don't think I could survive two hangovers so close together. I'm not even sure that I'm going to survive this one!"

Grady laughs. If I could get out of this chair, I would drive my knee so far into his groin that all his kids would be shitheads. A slight response in my leg to my intense emotion heartens me. Once the effects of a drug start to wear off, the progression can sometimes be swifter than one might think.

"Just where are we going?" I ask when Grady doesn't respond to my earlier request.

"You'll find out soon enough."

"You've been watching too many B movies, Grady."

"Huh?"

Considering his obvious loyalty to the political elite, I'm not surprised that he is slow on the uptake. The inability to think rationally is a prerequisite for a contender for political office. Why wouldn't they pass on that little trait to their aides? Pondering this makes me realize that at present, I'm not thinking very rationally myself. Otherwise, I would be worrying about more important things.

"Forget it," I tell him, not in the mood to explain the connection between him and B movies. "I have some other questions for you. Who do you work for? And don't tell me Senator Douglass. It wouldn't be necessary for him to go to this much trouble to kidnap me. Besides, I can't think of a single reason he would need to."

Grady stares at me unblinking.

"You might want to blink. You can hurt yourself that way. Dries out your eyes. Makes it hard to focus." I can't help being a smartass. It's my only weapon. "Are you going to answer me or not?" He just keeps staring.

"All right, screw up your eyeballs. See if I care. But, let me tell you one thing. You have moved to the top of my shit list." Okay, my repertoire is pretty pathetic, but I have a legitimate excuse. I just woke up from a hangover, and if what he says is true, it won't be long before the next one hits.

Turning my head, I pretend I'm going back to sleep. I can hear his footsteps as Grady moves down the aisle. Maybe I can come up with a plan. I have to stop them from drugging me again. Thinking back, the night before begins to come into focus. The food, I realize. It was in the food. No wonder he didn't want to eat with me!

Well, I can certainly refuse to eat. No, that's no good. Grady probably came prepared to inject if necessary. Besides he'll probably watch me eat just to make sure. Wait! If I beg for something to eat like I'm starving to death, he might feel confident enough to leave me alone. Then I can stuff all of it into the magazine pocket.

I focus on my arm to see if this plan is even possible. It raises off the armrest and hangs in the air for a minute. I never thought I would be so thrilled to see my arm move. The communication signals from my brain are online. Knowing that the only chance I have is to stop him from drugging me, I raise my voice, "Grady!"

His head comes into view as he approaches me from the front of the plane. "Yes?"

"Grady, I'm starving to death. Isn't there anything to eat on this plane? Crackers? Peanuts? I'll even eat airline food! My stomach is starting to gnaw on itself." Hopefully, my performance isn't over the top.

Grady looks at his watch. I assume he's checking to see how long it is before we land. I'm in luck. We must be close enough that the thought of drugging my food again makes his day. "Well, as a matter of fact, we do have some meals that are ready to prepare. I think even you will be pleased. The food on a private jet is worlds apart from commercial airline food."

"Oh, thank God! I would eat anything right now, but if it tastes good, it won't hurt my feelings any."

Grady smiles and heads back toward the front of the plane. He looks like a man who thinks his plan is coming together. With a little luck, I can crumple up his blueprints and stomp on them.