Alien Diplomacy

by Gini Koch

Len cursed. “We need to turn, but no one’s letting us over.”

  Sure enough, we were in the middle of the group, like our own little mobile pod of gray whales. Only we didn’t belong in the pod.

  “Boys? I think evasive maneuvers are going to become a necessity.” No sooner had I said this than I saw the windows of the limos next to us roll down. “Kyle! Hit the laser shield button!”

  I hoped he’d been told where it was, because the guns pointed at us started firing.

  CHAPTER 15

  IT HAD BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE I’d actually been inside a laser shield, and now here I’d gotten to do it twice in one day. Not that I was complaining.

  Actually, what I was doing was shielding Jamie. But, fortunately, Kyle had found the button in time, and we were treated to the interesting sight of watching bullets ricochet. The sound was different—a sort of deep pinging combined with a weird boing at the end. I decided I liked it a lot better than the sound bullets made when they hit people I cared about.

  “Kitty, sit down!” Len sounded pissed, not that I could blame him. “I’m going to ram through. Keep the baby in her seat.”

  I sat and rebuckled. “I’m not so sure—” I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to do this, but Len floored it and proved that concern to be a moot point. We slammed into the car ahead of us, but the impact didn’t feel like too much. A-C technology had a lot of advantages, and every A-C vehicle had a lot of cool, high-tech after-market stuff in it. Which begged the question of how someone had managed to rig our former limo. However, I didn’t have time to ponder that one at this precise time—I was focused on not getting whiplash.

  “You sure they’re all unfriendlies?” Pierre asked, with a lot more calm in his tone than I’d have expected.

  “Don’t care,” Len snarled.

  “I don’t think American Centaurion would be firing on their own people,” Oliver said. He sounded fairly calm, too.

  Kyle was on his phone barking something to someone, and Len was snarling but driving really well, if I defined that to mean we were going to totally win this demolition derby. Even Jamie seemed to be handling this like a trooper. Leaving me to act like a normal person. Always the way.

  Of course, screaming wouldn’t help anyone and would probably scare Jamie. So I went for my other standby—running my mouth. “So, Mister Joel Oliver, with all your contacts, you didn’t spot yourself as the assassination target du jour?”

  “I’m with you,” he pointed out as we rammed the car next to us.

  My phone chose this moment to ring. I managed to grab my purse as we jerked and slammed against the other car next to us. The gunmen inside had recovered themselves and were now aiming lower. “Len, they’re trying to hit our tires,” I shared as I flipped my phone open.

  “Great, that is your car on the news. Girlfriend, I can’t let you out of my sight.”

  “James, a little help would be appreciated.”

  “Serene’s team is altering footage, and we just dispatched agents to help.”

  “Could they help with the bullets flying?”

  “What?” He sounded shocked and horrified.

  “I thought you said we were on the news.”

  “Major traffic incident, that’s all they’re showing. No mention of gunfire.”

  “Well, there’s a lot of it. We’re surrounded by gray limos, by the way, so be sure the agents don’t just randomly go help gray cars, because the chances are good they’ll be helping the bad guys or get shot. No worries about police interference, though, so there’s that going for us. I guess.” A few cops shooting back at the bad guys wouldn’t have gone unappreciated by me at this point.

  Len broke us through and floored it. We weren’t by our street. I had no idea where we were by now, though I thought we were close to Georgetown. Len either knew or didn’t care. We careened down street after street, weaving in and out of traffic as “Destination Unknown” by Missing Persons fittingly came on the sound system. I cringed, waiting for us to run over some random tourist. “James, where is that help that’s supposedly coming?”

  “They’re with our other car.” His voice sounded funny.

  My stomach clenched. “They didn’t activate their laser shield in time?”

  “No, they didn’t.”

  We were too far away for me to have a hope of spotting them, but I turned around anyway. There were several gray limos following us. They all had guns. “We’re doing okay, I think.” I considered our options. “We’d have a better chance of getting away if we were on foot, I think. Using hyperspeed.” A-Cs could drag anyone along with them if they were touching. I figured I could do it, too, since I had the powers if not the full control. Besides, slamming into a building had to be better than being shot, right?

  “I can’t authorize that.”

  “Um, why the hell not?”

  “Serene says there’s an unreal number of cameras trained on you right now. If you bolt, someone will catch it, and she’s concerned Imageering will miss something.”

  “Great. Just great. Where are Jeff and Christopher?”

  “At the Embassy.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the Pontifex’s Residence.” The Pontifex had digs in D.C., close by but not within or attached to the Embassy. Before we’d become the Head Diplomats, I’d never known it existed—Richard White had never used it. Since we’d changed jobs, Reader and Gower were there a lot. The implications of this were crystal clear—we were screwing up. A lot. However, right now what I cared about was getting some help.

  “Okay, I’ll call you back.”

  “What? Stay on the phone with me.”

  “Um, no. Gotta make a call.” I hung up and dialed as Rihanna’s “SOS” came on. “Jeff, where are you?”

  “Tracking you.”

  “I thought you might be. James doesn’t want us to run, and I don’t want you or Christopher to get shot.”

  “Wow, I don’t want my wife or child to get hurt. Guess what? I plan to win this argument. We’ll be there in a couple of seconds.”

  I hung up. “Guys? Be prepared. Kyle? Unlock the doors, please. Now.”

  “What?” He sounded freaked. I didn’t care.

  “Unlock the damn doors!” He did. Jamie cooed and looked expectant. “I know, Jamie-Kat, Daddy and Uncle Christopher are here.” Blocks or not, Jamie always knew when Jeff was nearby. About a second later, the doors on either side opened and shut. If I hadn’t been prepared for it, I’d have missed it, enhanced vision or not.

  No one else was prepared for it, of course. Pierre yelped, Oliver jumped, Kyle shouted, and Len spun the wheel to the right.

  “We want them in,” I shared as Len got the car under control. I realized he hadn’t actually lost his cool. We’d gotten onto a dead-end street and had to get out of it. “Hi, guys. Missed you.”

  Jeff shook his head. “Only my girl. You okay, baby?”

  “Yeah, we are. Per James, the other car wasn’t as lucky.”

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” Christopher said. He was glaring, Patented Glare #3, but I had the feeling he was glaring at the situation in general, not at anyone specifically. He was a glaring impresario, after all, and had great range.

  Jeff looked around. “Why is the reporter in the car with us?”

  “Chuckie and I thought it was wise to protect him.”

  Jeff grunted, then nodded to Pierre. “Glad you’re here. Sorry about the welcome.”

  Pierre waved his hand nonchalantly. “Darling, really. Bullets and a rather slow car chase? That’s nothing. You’re speaking to a man who spends his time in the midst of crises of epic proportions. Now, if the cars were manned with half-crazed and completely stressed-out mothers of the brides? I might feel a quiver or two of fear. Otherwise, this makes a lovely change.”

  Oliver shrugged. “I’ve covered wars. So far, he’s right, this isn’t too bad.”

  “I mention that it was really bad for the car of ours that didn’t get its laser shield
up in time, and we’ll let it go at that. Good speed on that one, Kyle, by the way.”

  He turned around. There was a funny expression on his face. “Kitty, I didn’t hit the shield button. It activated before I could reach it.”

  We all stared at each other. A suspicion niggled. Operation Confusion would have been a lot more confusing, and we’d have lost at least every guy on Alpha and Airborne, if not for the fact that Jamie had talents even Jeff hadn’t been able to figure out yet. Hybrid girls were nothing if not exceptionally gifted. And, as had been pointed out to me frequently, while Jamie’s blocks kept her from feeling everyone’s emotions, her hearing was topnotch. After all, I knew why the bus had acted strangely earlier.

  I looked right into her eyes. Jamie looked back and grabbed my nose. I laughed and kissed her head. “You’re such a good baby.”

  CHAPTER 16

  TO EVERYONE’S CREDIT, while they looked shocked, no one asked me if I was crazy. I didn’t figure this kind of luck would hold, but I enjoyed the moment.

  Then again, they might not have said it aloud, but their expressions showed a variety of “you so crazy” looks. I could understand why the others were surprised, but, really, Operation Confusion had only been three months ago. You’d think Jeff and Christopher both would have remembered that Jamie had had a tiny hand in helping to save the day.

  Then again, they’d been tied up and tortured while most of that was going, so perhaps it wasn’t foremost in their minds.

  Or maybe it was because Len was skidding us around yet another corner. He avoided hitting the cars coming for us, I had no idea how, though driving onto the sidewalk had something to do with it.

  “How are we getting out of this alive?” I asked.

  Jeff grunted. “I plan to take care of that shortly.” He turned around. “Kid, take the next three rights, then two lefts. You’ll see a parking garage under renovation, head into it, barriers be damned.”

  “Yes, sir, Ambassador,” Len said, teeth gritted.

  “I’m glad Len has athletic reflexes.” I was. He was doing things with the car I’d expect from Reader or Tim, or myself. But I hadn’t seen this level of competence since we’d been relegated to the Diplomatic Corps.

  “We had to take a course,” Kyle shared. “Len got one of the highest scores ever, per Mister Reynolds.”

  “We’ll cheer later,” Christopher snapped as we skidded around yet another corner, narrowly missing a gaggle of students. “If, you know, we don’t die or kill someone on the way.”

  I checked behind us. “We still have our pod of gray killer whales behind us. They don’t give up easily, do they?” No police cars were anywhere in the near or far distance. So much for the idea that regular people would be adequately protected. Anyone around us right now was in danger.

  “Killer whales?” Oliver asked.

  “Don’t ask,” Christopher said. “You get used to the Kittyisms or you go insane.”

  “Thanks ever, Mister Happy.”

  “Limos are like the car version of whales,” Len said, teeth still gritted, as he spun us toward Jeff’s requested parking garage. “These are trying to kill us.”

  I sighed happily. “See? Someone understands me without a translator.”

  Jeff grunted. “I’m thrilled. Kid, head for a middle level, not the bottom, not the roof, spin our whale around, and have it ready to go either up or down.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “His name is Len,” I mentioned.

  Jeff gave me a look that indicated he was close to having to have the jealousy chat with Len. I decided I liked who my driver was now, so shutting up was likely going to be the better part of valor. Besides, I had to cover Jamie’s ears while I screamed as we careened through a barricade, drove up a small ramp, took to the air, and landed to the sounds of Saliva’s “Click Click Boom.” At least we had a good soundtrack going, though I got the impression I was the only one taking the time to enjoy it.

  “Kitty, need the eardrums,” Christopher said, wincing. “You’re louder than the music, which is saying something.”

  “Don’t care. I’ve needed to scream for what seems like hours now, and couldn’t before.”

  “Why not?” Jeff asked as Len spun the car.

  “It would have scared Jamie.”

  “You screaming your head off now didn’t scare her?”

  “No. You’re with us now, so she knows Daddy will take care of it.”

  “Oh.” Jeff looked extremely pleased. The car stopped, however, and his expression went hard. “I want us ready. Music off, I want you all paying attention.” Kyle turned off the stereo just as Iron Maiden’s “Dance of Death” was starting. I controlled my complaint as Jeff shot me the hairy eyeball look. I’d been paying attention but decided now wasn’t the time to protest or demand musical accompaniment.

  “Kid, Christopher and I are going to take whoever’s coming, but just in case we get into more than we can handle, I want you heading the car down if you can get out safely, or to the roof if you can’t.”

  “Len and I can handle ourselves in a fight,” Kyle said.

  “I want you doing your jobs, and that’s driving and protecting Kitty and Jamie. Period.” Jeff wasn’t growling, but he was close.

  The boys chose not to argue. I knew they were smart.

  Mr. Joel Oliver cleared his throat. “Why don’t you simply ask the baby to get us safely home?”

  “Kitty was joking about what she said earlier,” Christopher said, sounding strained. Or maybe it was because they were hoping I hadn’t told Mr. Joel Oliver what he likely already knew.

  Oliver, who was sitting between Jeff and Christopher, gave me a small smile. “I know, Mister White. You can stop pretending.”

  “No idea what you mean,” Christopher said, while he looked at his hands.

  Oliver sighed. “I know you’re aliens. I know you have special…skills. Skills that humans don’t. Mister Reynolds is fully aware that I know he’s the head of the C.I.A.’s Extra-Terrestrial Division.” He looked sad. “No one believes me, mind you, but I know the truth.”

  “They print everything you write,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged. “They print it because it sells, but my editors don’t believe anything I submit. Most of our readers don’t either, and the few who do are, for the most part, crackpots, to put it charitably.”

  “That kind of sucks.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, it does. Then again, I get to do what I love, and I know the truth. Everyone can call me a crazed conspiracy theorist or whatever the insult of the day is. But knowledge is power.”

  I’d seen this same expression on Chuckie’s face all through school—it was a combination of determination, disappointment, hurt, and defiance. That look on Chuckie’s face had always made my heart hurt. It was somewhat unsurprising to discover I didn’t care for it on Oliver’s face, either.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Jeff said to me.

  “I don’t what?”

  “You are not getting attached to him! Having Mister Joel Oliver here in the limo is one thing. Thinking of him as your friend is another.”

  “I’m not your enemy, Ambassador Martini.”

  “Nothing you do helps us,” Jeff snapped.

  “Oh, on the contrary,” Pierre said. “He’s helping you far more than you realize.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Jeff shook his head. “How is what he writes a help?”

  Pierre sighed. “Really, it seems so obvious.” He looked around. “You lovely people are hiding in plain sight. Mister Joel is considered to be writing fiction by almost everyone. Therefore, if the man who routinely shares that Elvis is still walking amongst us also says that the dear people from American Centaurion are actually aliens living as our neighbors, what will the general populace think?”

  “That it’s a load of crap.” Pierre had a strong point. “In fact, the more MJO insists we’re not normal, the more likely it is that someone’s going to assume he just feels we insulted him in som
e way.”

  “Too much attention isn’t good,” Jeff protested. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Too many people insinuating that we’re…different, and someone’s going to decide that maybe we are.”

  Oliver shook his head. “The government is protecting you, Ambassador. If no one was insinuating that something funny was going on with you, then you might have more cause to worry.”

  “There were diplomatic plates on some of the cars following us,” Len said.

  Kyle nodded. “I’m having them run.”

  “Meaning that not everyone in the government is protecting us, which, I have to add, isn’t any kind of a shock.”

  The sound of a lot of tires screeching echoed through the parking garage. The pod had caught up to us.

  “No problem,” Jeff said, as he and Christopher prepared to get out of the car. “I’m going to find out exactly who’s behind this.”

  “How?”

  He grinned at me. “Well, I’m hoping by beating the crap out of these people, but I’m open to other options.”

  “I like a man who’s willing to experiment with new ideas.” Especially in the bedroom, but that wasn’t relevant at this precise time.

  Jeff chuckled. “I love how you think.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “REMEMBER THEY HAVE GUNS and a seemingly unlimited supply of bullets,” I reminded Jeff before he leaped out of the car.

  “We have hyperspeed and an unlimited supply of pissed off,” he replied.

  I didn’t need Christopher to chime in. Jeff was bigger and stronger, but Christopher was nastier, especially in a fight. And both of them had been, like me, feeling tied up and put on a major time out. I almost felt sorry for the guys in the whale pod. Until I thought about what they’d done to our other limo full of people.

  “Hurt them. A lot.”

  “On three,” Jeff said to Christopher. He nodded. “Three.” They were out of the car, doors nicely closed, before any of us could blink.

  “He’s not much for patience, is he?” Pierre asked. “Not that I can blame him.”

  “No, Jeff’s not all that patient in these situations.” Come to think of it, neither was I. And while I could see bodies flying, there were at least ten cars full of nasty people, and only two of our side involved. “Um, Pierre…”