by Gini Koch
Chuckie looked at Jeff. “She’s clean,” Jeff said. “Telling the truth as she knows it.” Chuckie nodded like he wasn’t surprised, which, all scary things considered, was a relief.
“Why would I lie to you about anything?” Caroline asked, sounding completely shocked. “Kit-Kat’s one of my best friends, and so is Chuck. You guys saved me from whatever’s going on.” She looked at me. “What is going on?”
“Caro, the President’s Ball is still on. You, however, are only going under full guard.”
“Why? Not that I’m complaining, not after this afternoon, but I’m confused.”
“You didn’t ask who took this picture or where we got it from,” Chuckie said.
She shrugged. “I figured you’d gotten it from Esteban. I know you work with him frequently; he’s mentioned it because he knows we’re friends.”
“Esteban Cantu?” Chuckie asked. “As in the head of the C.I.A.’s Antiterrorism unit?”
“Yeah. You do know him, right, Chuck?” Caroline sounded worried.
“Oh, I know him all right.” Chuckie looked at me. “Well, now we know.”
“Now we know what?” Christopher asked.
I sighed. “Now we know who’s in charge of Operation Assassination.”
CHAPTER 44
ON CUE, EVERYONE WINCED, except Chuckie, who was too busy thinking, and Caroline, who looked as if she were considering making confusion an art form. I couldn’t blame her.
I was thinking, too, of course. So I kept on talking. “So, Caro, didn’t it seem weird to you that Pete has an odd accent?”
“No. He sounds like everyone else from Paraguay.” She jerked. “Wait a minute, how did you know he had an accent?”
“Well, I could say I guessed, but I’ve actually met him. And we didn’t get that picture from Esteban Cantu. We got it from Nurse Carter here.”
Caroline looked at her. “I’ve never seen her before. How did she get our picture?”
“Doctor Rijos had it in his file,” Nurse Carter said. “I put it in my purse. The Dingo did not search us.”
“We don’t have a Doctor Rijos attached to our mission,” Caroline said.
“Nope, you probably don’t.” I looked at Michael. “Be prepared. She’s normally fairly cool under pressure but…”
He nodded. “Happy to help.” I was sure he was. Michael was clearly doing his best to stake his claim on Caroline early.
“What are you expecting me to freak about, Kit-Kat? I think I’ve handled everything pretty damn well.”
“You have.” I took a deep breath. “Caro, here’s the thing. Your sorta boyfriend?” She nodded. “He’s the guy we were talking about before. Peter Kasperoff, aka the Dingo. As in, the dude who tried to off me in several ways yesterday, assisted by his cousin, Surly Vic. They’re now presumed dead or back under C.I.A. and Titan Security control.”
She stared at me. She stared some more. No one spoke. Caroline stared some more. She finally opened her mouth. “You’re saying that the people who were hired to protect us, and that us includes a number of prominent and influential politicians, are actually assassins?”
“Pretty much.”
“And I was going to go to the President’s Ball with an infamous assassin?”
“You got it.”
She looked around. “And no one in this room seems overly surprised.”
“We’re kind of used to it. Welcome to My Super Secret Life, where people try to kill us on a regular basis, and we thwart bad-guy schemes for breakfast. We’re almost like a reality show, only without the alcohol and hot tubs.”
Her mouth went to a straight line. “I need someone to check on Senator McMillan and his wife, right now!” I was so proud. She was going to save the freak out I knew would be coming for later. That was my Caro Syrup.
“Already on it,” Mom said approvingly. Apparently, Caroline was her favorite daughter. My memory nudged me again, harder.
“Caro, Peter seemed to be under the impression you were my sister.”
“I am.”
“I mean real, as in blood, not as in sorority. Any guess as to why?”
She grimaced. “Not really. I mean, I have our sorority composite picture up and he’s asked about it.” She blinked. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“He asked me about you. He point-blank asked me if my sister was attached to American Centaurion. I said yes, because you are. I didn’t say you weren’t my real sister. I didn’t say that you were, either, but I guess he assumed.”
“Or he was having a joke.”
Chuckie’s head snapped to me. “Explain that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Peter the Dingo Dog seems like a very interesting person. He clearly has a strong attachment to his cousin.” Like Jeff and Christopher had, but I didn’t think they’d appreciate me making that comparison out loud. “To the point that he’ll do things against his best interests if it’s for someone he perceives as having done either of them a true service.”
“Fine, but the joke?” Chuckie seemed rather intent.
“Why are you haranguing her on this point?” Jeff asked, sounding protective.
Chuckie made the exasperation sound. “She’s making profiling statements. We have a good file on the Dingo, but not good enough. We have three people in this room who have all interacted with him and lived. One of those people has shown an amazing ability to think like the people we’re trying to stop. Now, can Kitty answer my damn question?”
“Fine, fine,” Jeff muttered.
I leaned down. “I’m fine now,” I whispered to him. “You can relax.” I heard his stomach grumble. “And hopefully food will be here soon.”
As I said this, agents appeared with a full spread. A buffet table was set up and everyone filed through to get food. I looked at the food. I looked again. “Um, what’s all this?” There was nothing on the buffet I could recognize as edible.
“National specialties,” Pierre said, as he fussed around the display and sent some of the agents off for things he felt were missing.
“What nation?”
“Your neighbors’.” Pierre shook his head. “We need to blend a tad more effectively, darling, and your kitchen staff is, what, actually several thousand miles away? Today that was a blessing, but otherwise we need a better system for entertaining. However, until such time as we can achieve it, I want us all getting used to eating the foods of those countries near and dear to us.”
“By near and dear you mean on our block?”
“That and the surrounding neighborhoods. The Gas Leak District, so to speak.”
I felt I should recognize something on this table, but so far, every dish was a mystery. I wanted to ask what everything was, but I could tell Chuckie wasn’t happy with the delay, so I made sure to stand next to him in the food line and instead of asking him to tell me what I was eating, I took one for the team. “You want me to give you my joke theory now or wait?”
“Now. We don’t have time to wait.”
I heard Reader groan. His view was that the moment I gave my theories, we had no time to eat. But since the main action was set for tomorrow night, I figured we could risk it. “Works for me. Okay, Peter called me Miss Katt. I know he knew I was married. He was calling me Miss Katt for a reason, and I think it’s because he’s seen my picture at Caroline’s place and has thought of me, therefore, as Katherine Katt.”
“Kitty,” Caroline, who was with us, clearly intending to stay as near to Chuckie as possible, said as she loaded some food onto her plate without grimace or hesitation. “I have the fancy-shmancy composite picture, the big one. It has everyone’s names, nicknames, and pledge names on it. He commented on you being called Kitty Katt. He thought it was funny.”
“So he was in Caro’s apartment basically casing her life. Great. And cats have nine lives, and he’d been trying to kill me all day and I’d evaded it. I think he was getting a triple, at least, out of the joke.”
Chuckie nodded slowly. “That kind of wor
d play, especially the layers of it, indicates a high intelligence.”
“Maybe more than one kind of intelligence.”
Chuckie raised his eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“Maybe Peter the Dingo Dog knows that I’ve foiled some other assassination attempts.”
“Extra layers to the nine lives joke. I can see it. We need to have Caroline’s apartment searched and watched.”
“I agree. What the heck is that?”
“Pasta of some kind,” Jeff said as he put an extra helping of the supposed pasta onto his plate. “We already assigned teams to Caroline’s place, Reynolds.”
“It doesn’t look like pasta.”
“It looks better than that tapeworm dish Alexander said was a delicacy from ‘home.’ Anyway, we sent teams to check it out,” Jeff said, piling what might have been squid, might have been octopus, or might have been really thick weeds onto his plate.
“What are they searching for?” Mister Joel Oliver said as he cheerfully shoved in with us.
“None of your business,” Jeff growled.
Caroline looked at Oliver. “I know you. Mister Joel Oliver, right? The investigative reporter?”
Oliver nodded. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you in person, Miss Chase.”
“You haven’t. I’ve seen your picture and byline. The senator reads every article you write.”
I looked up at Chuckie. “He knows, doesn’t he? And by knows, I mean knows everything.”
Chuckie nodded. “He’s from Arizona. The higher-level politicians with Centaurion bases in their states know some to all about what’s going on.”
Caroline cleared her throat. “What, really, is going on?”
I looked at my plate while I pondered how to answer her question. I had a tiny bit of everything on it. No worries, if anything actually tasted better than vile, I could go back for seconds. “I wish something normal, like steak or macaroni and cheese, was going on,” I muttered.
“Kit-Kat, I’d really like an answer.”
I looked up at Jeff and Chuckie. They both had resigned looks on their faces. Oliver cleared his throat. “May I?”
“Yes,” Chuckie said quickly. I almost asked why, then it dawned on me that if Oliver gave away classified information, Chuckie could say he was wrong, but if I did it, it would be kind of damning. Besides, maybe he’d break it to her gently.
Oliver smiled. “Miss Chase, about half the people, or more, in this room are originally from one of the planets in the Alpha Centauri system, or their parents were. Honestly, most in the room are Earth-born, and all born here are considered American citizens with all the rights and privileges thereof. American Centaurion is the name given to the several tens of thousands of alien refugees who now live among us.”
Or, you know, he could just blurt it all out and let the chips fall where they may.
CHAPTER 45
CAROLINE STARED AT ME. “You married a space alien?” she asked finally.
I gave her a bright smile. “Jeff was born on Earth. He’s a legal U.S. resident with all the rights thereof. And he’s a prince.” Hey, it had mattered to my other sorority sisters.
Caroline shook her head. “You never change.”
“I didn’t date aliens before!”
“Or royalty. However, if there was a way to work in the bizarre naturally, you were always our go-to girl.” Caroline took a long look at Jeff, then slowly turned around and scanned the room. “Chuck?” she said finally.
“Yes?”
“You’re not an alien, right?”
“Correct.”
“And neither is Kit-Kat, right?”
“Right.” Chuckie shot me a worried glance. I checked Jeff’s expression. He was trying not to laugh.
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “But Michael is, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” I gave up and gave in. “You want me to point out the, ah, American Centaurions from the regular U.S. citizens?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
I was kind of shocked. “Why not?”
Caroline grinned. “Jelly Bean and Twix told me about your wedding, and they mentioned how incredibly good-looking your husband’s entire extended family was. I think I can spot them on my own.”
“I think my feelings should be hurt,” Chuckie said with a laugh.
Caroline shook her head. “Oh, no, Chuck. Don’t feel like that at all. You’re still considered our sorority’s most eligible bachelor.” Chuckie looked shocked and slightly embarrassed. Caroline, however, was still scanning the room. “The model, James. Is he an alien?”
“Nope, merely good-looking enough to pass.”
“His boyfriend is, though, right? And that’s Michael’s older brother?”
“Yes. You’re handling this really well.” Better than Amy had, as I thought about it, and Amy had heard all of Chuckie’s theories at least as much as Caroline had.
Caroline grinned. “I work in D.C. You’re crazy if you think this is the most bizarre thing going on around here.” She laughed at my expression. “Unlike your friends from high school, or even most of our sisters, I not only listened to Chuck’s theories, I never discounted them. It’s part of how I got the job with the senator.”
“Because you’re a conspiracy theorist?”
She snorted. “No, silly. Because Chuck’s always right. You took him seriously, so I took him seriously. And it helped a lot. I sounded like I was already an insider when I interviewed.”
Jeff groaned. “Great. Another one who thinks you walk on water.”
Chuckie laughed. “It makes a refreshing change.”
Caroline shrugged. “Let’s eat and figure out how to stop these creeps from hurting anyone else.”
“I like where your head’s at.” Went back to our seats. I put my plate down and decided I could wait a bit before diving in.
I went to Mom first. “Do we have enough to take Cantu in for questioning?”
She shook her head. “Hardly. That Caroline thinks he took the picture with people only you and a completely unreliable source say shows the Dingo in it is even less concrete information than what you normally come up with. Charles and I need hard, solid proof before we move against Cantu or anyone else politically connected. Without it we might as well quit before they fire us.”
“I didn’t think spies got fired.”
“True. We get burned. Or killed. I’d like to avoid both choices.”
“No argument here.”
“Go eat the dinner you whined for.”
“Yes, Mom.”
I contemplated my plate and decided I could wait just a little longer. I trotted over to Chuckie instead, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the picture. “Since everyone knows, other than Nurse Carter, who likely suspects, let’s save ourselves a lot of pain.” I handed the picture to Christopher. “Time to show off the skills.”
He sighed. “Can I eat first? I’m hungry.”
“You can’t eat and paw a picture at the same time?”
“I can. However, I’d prefer to do it on a full stomach. The speed I had to go to get you and my father to safety demands rest and fuel.”
“Wimp.” Though, he was eating the food, so clearly, he was a braver cuisine enthusiast than I was.
I sat down and gingerly tried my food. Most of it was actually pretty good, but from the way everyone else was chowing down, you’d have thought they were either starving, international gourmands, or ate these foods every day. I voted for starving. I was, which was why I was overcoming my current food fear.
Michael and Chuckie were quietly explaining some things to Caroline, and everyone else was chatting about whatever while they ate. I wanted to think, but that meant talk, and my mother was in the room. I didn’t want the “don’t talk with your mouth full” lecture again, and certainly not with this many witnesses present.
So I forced myself to try to untangle what was going on while trying not to look at what I was putting into my mouth. This,
of course, meant that, instead of focusing on the problem at hand, my mind was merrily wandering all over the place.
“Caro doesn’t have a date for the President’s Ball anymore.”
Jeff snorted quietly. “I’m sure Michael will be more than happy to stand in.”
This appeared to be true, since Michael clearly had the charm turned up to eleven. “Okay, great, so that’s good. But should she go?”
“Yes,” Christopher said. “Because if she doesn’t, it could indicate that we’re onto their plan. Whatever it is.”
“I think Len and Kyle should go, too.”
“Why?” Jeff asked. “Besides, they don’t have dates.”
I snorted. “I’m sure they can both head over to either Dulce or NASA Base and find at least a dozen A-C girls, each, who’d be willing to take one for the team and go to the President’s Ball with two cute human guys of eligible age.”
“Stop matchmaking.”
“I’m not. At all. But I think we want as much of our team as possible there, because I have a feeling we’re not going to stop the whatever from happening, at least until such time as we’re physically on-site.”
“Let’s keep trying anyway,” Christopher said. “Just for laughs.”
“Kitty, Pierre says that we have dress fittings tomorrow morning,” Amy shared.
“Can’t wait.”
“He also says that he’s ordered up something for your friend Caroline, too, since she’s now part of our strike force.” Amy was clearly acting as the Pierre Translator. I assumed he was too well-mannered to shout at me the way everyone else usually did. I didn’t expect this nicety to last, of course.
“Excellent. Maybe we’ll all match or something.”
“I don’t see why you’re being snippy,” Amy said, sounding hurt. “Pierre wants to be good at his job.”
“I’ll bet cash money that Pierre is always good at any job Pierre wants to do. He was James’ go-to guy during our wedding.”
“Caroline wasn’t in your wedding either, right?” Amy asked, voice carefully neutral.