Then he realized he was in a white-and-gray helicopter that had just lifted off from a rooftop helo pad. He watched spellbound quickly coming awake, as the craft quickly began a flight path that circled around and past the lower end of Manhattan. Then he heard the pilot speaking curtly to an air controller somewhere and he looked up and realized it was the same samurai bastard who'd slugged him on the street and then aided in his kidnapping. But that had to be yesterday, or God knows how many days ago. He was realizing he'd just lost a chunk of his life. And now he was being taken somewhere. In a very big hurry. "Being up here always seems like being closer to God" came a voice from behind him. He recognized it with a jolt. It was the man who thought he was God. Shakily he removed the scarf that had been holding his head and turned around. Winston Bartlett was gazing down through his own plastic window, seemingly talking to himself. "What . . . what the hell is going on?" He could barely get the words out. "Oh," Bartlett said turning to look at him. "Good I particularly wanted you to see this. It should help make my point." Stone struggled to comprehend what was happening. He was with the man he had wanted to call Father for nearly four decades, whether he could admit that to himself or not. It could be the beginning of the kind of bonding he had always hungered for, but he didn't want it like this. They finally had a relationship, and it was completely antagonistic. He had just been drugged and kidnapped by his own father, this after being threatened and fired. Again, Daddy dearest. So what was this evolving chapter about? Winston Bartlett, he knew, could be ruthless, but he also was a visionary in his own way. Then he remembered what had happened. He'd been trying to track down Kristen. "Where . . . where are we going?" "We're going to the place you seem to find so interesting," Bartlett declared over the din of the engine. "But I was hoping that we could have a rational discourse along the way. What's been happening thus far doesn't serve either of us. I'm hoping things have cooled down a bit and we can call a truce." Stone was still trying to clear his head, get the cobwebs away. It was difficult. He'd lost consciousness in a town house in the Village, on solid ground, and regained it here, where the earth itself seemed in motion. And now Bartlett was trying out another bargaining style, so even the rules appeared to be in flux.