by Gini Koch
“We have no way of knowing, since the cameras were tampered with.”
Len cleared his throat. “The guys in the taxis seemed a lot less…effective than the ones who blew up the limo and put us into that car chase.”
“And Kitty into the Potomac,” Reader added, while shooting me the cover-boy grin. “But yeah,” he said, smile gone, “I’ll give you that our other limo was destroyed.”
“They had a lot of firepower.”
“The limo was blown up, though,” Reader said shortly. “They shot out the tires, shot out the windows, and tossed in an explosive.”
“Who saw it happen?” Chuckie asked.
“What? Why?” Reader sounded almost as snappish as Jeff normally did when talking to Chuckie.
“Because we still don’t know who bugged Kitty or how,” Chuckie replied. “And, as Kitty just pointed out, if they were taking the picture to avoid White or Serene reading it, then they know us very well. And infiltration is always a risk in any operation, especially this one.”
“I hated my last driver. Not that I want to speak ill of the dead. If we really think he’s dead.”
Reader, Tim, and Christopher were all on their phones. Jeff didn’t look convinced. “I didn’t pick up anything treacherous from any of your drivers, and I check for it.”
I sighed. “Jeff, there are liars in the A-C community. It’s a skill, and it’s a well-hidden one.”
“I know you’ve told me about it. I just don’t believe it,” he said.
“Christopher can block you.”
“He’s enhanced. Serene can probably block me, too. But I don’t really buy it with our regular people.”
“Camilla is our shining example. I wonder if we should bring her over?” Camilla had been, thankfully, a double agent during Operation Confusion. Without her, and her ability to lie, we’d all likely be dead or enslaved by Ronaldo Al Dejahl.
I liked her, though she wasn’t someone anyone hung out with. A-Cs who were truly able to lie convincingly were extremely rare, trained in secret, and pretty much could be considered the Jedi Monks of the A-C population. They had their own clubhouse somewhere, but the rest of us never got to go there. Most A-Cs didn’t know the clubhouse existed. Jeff’s father, Alfred, had, but Jeff hadn’t. Which was an interesting point to ponder, only not right now.
“She’s on assignment,” Chuckie said.
“Huh? What assignment?” I was never told anything even before I’d moved into the Embassy, and it was worse these days.
“She’s doing something very delicate,” Chuckie said. “It’s approved at the highest levels.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. And nothing you do or say is going to get the information out of me. However, I’m with you—it’s fairly easy for a human to lie to an empath if they know what to focus on.”
“Huh.” Jeff shot Chuckie a dirty look. “Not that anyone can tell with you.” Chuckie laughed.
“Boys…”
“Not starting,” Jeff said quickly. “But do you really think we had a car full of traitors following you?” He sounded a little freaked out, a little angry, and a lot protective.
“No. I think we had one guy, maybe two, whoever the humans were. I think, once the gunfire started, they shot the A-Cs in the car, rolled down the windows, jumped out of the car and into one of the many other limo options surrounding us, while their cronies tossed a bomb into the limo and blew up any sign of internal foul play.”
“Glass in the limos is bulletproof,” Reader acknowledged as he hung up. “All the metal’s reinforced, too.”
“So even if you’re slow on the laser shield button, you should have time to hit it, right?”
He nodded. “Right. And there were two humans in the car, the one who’d driven you to your Washington Wife class and the one you’d had before him who also hadn’t worked out.”
“One human was driving and I remember that the other one took shotgun. Meaning they were the ones who had the best access to said laser shield button, as well as every other doohickey in the car.”
“So, maybe Kitty didn’t like them not because they hadn’t gone through a danger situation with her, but because she picked up something wrong they were doing,” Len suggested.
“Or maybe it was both,” Tim said, closing his phone. “But I just checked on the teams James and I sent out to reclaim our agents’ bodies. They found six A-C bodies.”
“Oh, let me play! Let me play! No humans, right?”
Tim nodded. “Forensics is looking to see if they can tell if the blast was internal and where it was centered. Not sure they’ll get much, it was pretty big.”
“Okay, no worries, ’cause I think we’re right unless they find something that completely contradicts this theory. Let’s get back to the bigger worries. Jeff, I know you monitor emotions, but what if someone has an empathic shield up? Could you tell?”
He shrugged. “No idea, baby. At all.”
“So are you sure you’re reading people correctly?” Chuckie asked, pointedly looking at Nurse Carter.
“Yes, because I’m getting plenty of emotions from her.” Jeff looked thoughtful. “Usually humans and A-Cs feel more than one emotion at any time. Terror usually wins out and holds the emotional stage alone, but otherwise, and sometimes even when terrified, we all have more going on than just one emotion.”
“So maybe you can sort of monitor for someone exhibiting only a single emotion.”
Jeff nodded. “The way you try to think about something benign when you don’t want me to know you’re upset, lusting after someone other than me, or angry with me.”
Damn. The whole focusing on flowers thing didn’t work? This fooling the superempath stuff was clearly not my forté.
Jeff grinned at me. “It’s okay, baby. I usually ignore you when you want me to. I figure it’s only polite.”
“Humph. But anyway, clearly it would take someone with a lot of training, like Camilla had, someone having the Surcenthumain assist, or some kind of device that would block an empath without raising their internal flags.”
Chuckie nodded slowly. “Your former Diplomatic Corps had, what, over twenty years to have people working on this? It would be doable in that time if you had empaths to use as test subjects.”
“Which they did.” I shuddered. The memory of what had been done to our agents and hybrids before we’d caught on always lurked on the edge of my mind, waiting to jump out and scare the crap out of me while also making me sick to my stomach and enraged.
William cleared his throat. “Ah, Commanders, Chiefs? Do you need me for anything else?”
“Sorry,” Jeff said quietly. “Why don’t you get the rest of the teams back to Dulce?”
William gave him a quick smile. “Happy to.”
“Stop in and see Walter before you go,” I suggested. “He’s doing a great job, but I don’t think he believes us when we tell him so.”
William chuckled. “I’m sure he doesn’t, but thanks, Chief, I will.”
We waited until William was out of earshot. “Okay, I feel stupid and thoughtless for bringing that up in front of him.”
Jeff shook his head. “He understands. We lose people all the time, including people we love. It’s part of our jobs and always has been. William understands more than most. He’s our best imageer right now, after Christopher and Serene.”
“Then ensure he’s guarded,” Chuckie said. “Because we don’t know much, but we do know that there’s already been too much killing, and there’s bound to be more before this is through. And as of now, every Centaurion agent needs to be considered a target.”
CHAPTER 51
“YOU’RE A TARGET, TOO,” I MENTIONED. “In fact, I think you need to be under whatever guard everyone else is, Chuckie. My parents, too.”
“We already have Centaurion and ETD guards with your parents, in addition to P.T.C.U. ones. I’ll be fine. Use the personnel for other people.”
“Ha. Last big operation we had you
were only fine by seconds. For all we know, you’re only here tonight because you and Mom were up all night doing interrogations and so were safe. But I’ll give you an option. You stay here in one of the empty guest rooms, I’ll let the personnel go elsewhere.” Jeff opened his mouth. “Do not start.”
Jeff sighed. “I’m not. I agree with you. I think Reynolds should stay here until this is over.”
Everyone, not just Chuckie and I, heck, even Nurse Carter, stared at him. “You okay?” Christopher managed to ask.
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Kitty’s right. Someone’s trying to kill God alone knows who. Reynolds likes to act like he’s invulnerable, but he’s not. And I don’t want to have to deal with the hysterics my wife will go through if you’re hurt or killed,” he added to Chuckie.
“Thanks, I think.” Chuckie sounded dazed. “Really? You want me here? Without extra threats or a pack of Dobermans outside my door?”
I put my hand on Jeff’s forehead. “No fever.”
Jeff gave all of us a dirty look, me in particular. “You ask me to behave in a mature fashion, but the moment I do…”
“Just happily shocked, that’s all,” I said quickly. “Let me applaud the grown-up moment. Chuckie, take some agents with you when you go to get your stuff. And before you start arguing, Mister Joel Oliver is staying here too. Look at it as you riding herd on him, okay?”
Chuckie sighed. “Fine. Let’s get that over with before the next confusing yet deadly thing happens.”
“And,” Oliver said, “remember that you, we hope, still have things to get.”
“Good point.” Chuckie grinned. “They’re mostly new things I had to get in the last three months, so I’ll stop arguing.”
“Great, hurry it up, though,” Reader said. “We still need to work on determining what’s going on. Before whatever it is happens and all we can do is clean up or bury the dead.”
Cheerful pronouncements of doom over, we fretted some more about things we couldn’t control, got more useless information that merely confirmed things were dire, and speculated on whether Chuckie’s place would be toasted before or after he got there.
In the midst of the useless fretting, my phone rang. I stepped away from the group while I dug it out and looked at who was calling. “Bernie! Hi, what’s up?”
“Hey, Kitty! I heard there was some kind of gas leak scare around where I think you live. You guys okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. It was a false alarm.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to do a play date sometime. I know you have the big shebang tomorrow night, but maybe in the day beforehand?”
I really wanted to say yes. Bernie was normal, and her son was normal, and wouldn’t it be nice for me and Jamie to just go hang out and pretend to be normal? But duty was calling, loudly, and this was, I reminded myself, why I’d lost touch with most of my friends over the past two years.
“I can’t.” I didn’t have to fake the regret in my voice. “There’s too much we have to do before we go to the ball. But hopefully sometime next week. Maybe after Mommy and Me.” If, you know, we survived tomorrow night.
“Okay, well, have fun. I spent dinner last night and tonight whining to Raul about how you get to go and we don’t.” She laughed. “He said he has another friend going, and he’s going to see if he has a spare invitation. I doubt it’ll happen, but I have a nice dress on hand, just in case.”
“It’d be great to see you there!” It would. Not that I necessarily wanted yet another person in whatever danger was going on, though the idea that Bernie was the Dingo’s target seemed as unlikely as me winning the Miss Universe pageant. But I figured their chances of actually getting to go were slim to none, so I could be excited safely. “I really hope Raul swings it.”
“Me too, like you wouldn’t believe. Well, I’ll let you go. See you tomorrow, maybe, and next week for sure!”
“Plan on it!” I hung up and heaved a sigh as I dropped my phone back into my purse. Being married to Jeff and saving the world on a regular basis had seemed worth the sacrifices three months ago. Now, being married to Jeff still rocked, but the sacrifices didn’t seem as worthwhile by a long shot.
My phone rang again. I pulled it out. Not a number I knew. Hoped another “relative” hadn’t “died” and answered. “Hello?”
“Is this Kitty Martini?” The voice was familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Leslie Manning. I wanted to…apologize for how everyone was yesterday morning.”
It had been so long ago in terms of experience, I’d almost forgotten about Kitty and Eugene’s High School Reunion moment. “Yeah, thanks. We’re used to it.”
“Look…I want…” Her voice trailed off.
I waited. Nothing. “Yes? Leslie, is there something you needed?”
“Yes.” I realized she was crying. “I need help.”
“Why the hell are you calling me?”
“Because you’re not my friend.”
“Excuse me?”
She sniffled. “It’s complicated, okay? Like everything else in this town. You’re still fighting it, trying not to fit in. And I think I need someone who cares more about being a real person than being a Washington player. You stick up for Eugene when, if you cut him dead, I promise you, Abner would pull you into the group because he thinks you’re cute. He thinks he could make you his little pet. I know you’d kick him in the balls before he ever got a chance to try it.”
“Got that right. Leslie, really, what’s this about?”
I heard a voice in the background. “I can’t tell you right now.” Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Tomorrow, okay? At the ball. I’ll find you and find a way, okay? Please?”
“Um, sure. That sounds good. Try to find me before I overturn the punch bowl or something, though.”
She laughed. “I will. Kitty…thank you. See you tomorrow.” She hung up before I could say there was no reason for thanks—I hadn’t done or promised to do anything other than speak to her tomorrow night.
My phone rang again. Again a number I didn’t know. As I answered, it occurred to me that I had no idea how Leslie had scored my phone number. “Hello, is this Ambassador Martini?”
“Yes.” This voice I recognized. It was good ol’ Jack Ryan. “What’s up, Jack?”
“Don’t go to the ball tomorrow night.”
“Right. Hilarious. I may die laughing.”
“No,” he said urgently. “You might die.”
CHAPTER 52
I CONSIDERED HOW TO REPLY to this statement of potential fact. Saying “Right you are, and you, too!” indicated more knowledge of current clandestine events than I wanted Ryan to know.
However, playing stupid was always sure to work in some ways, so I went for it. “Oh, come on. What, Abner decided I have to die because I won’t play your little high school games?”
“No. Look, I’m not supposed to be saying this to anyone. I already warned the others. I know we’re not friends, and I’m not interested in being your friend, either. But I know you, and I know that something bad’s going to happen at the ball tomorrow. So, I’m telling you, as a fellow classmate, not to go.”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t want someone I know to die horrifically, okay? Is there a problem?”
“No, not with that mindset.” Ryan’s wife was in the C.I.A. If she’d leaked something to him she could lose her job. “Jack, how did you hear this information?”
“I eavesdropped on a conversation of Pia’s.”
“Why are you eavesdropping on your wife?”
“I thought she was cheating on me.”
I could understand why she’d want to, but I managed to keep that statement to myself. “That was sort of low.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was. She’s not cheating, so there’s that.”
“So glad to hear it.”
“But she was saying that they expected some kind
of action tomorrow at Planet Hollywood.”
“Um, that’s a defunct restaurant chain, isn’t it?”
He sighed, rather condescendingly. “That’s the code name for the President’s Ball.”
“How do you know?” He was silent. “Jack, how do you know?”
He sighed. “I looked through her Blackberry and found the reference.”
“Again because you thought she was cheating?”
“Yes.”
“She works for the freaking C.I.A. Why is her being secretive some kind of shocker alert to you?”
“Look, I don’t ask about your relationship with your husband! Besides, that’s not why I called. Don’t go tomorrow night, okay? I’m trying to protect you. You’d think you’d be a little grateful.”
He had a point. “Thanks, Jack. I appreciate the head’s up. You called everyone in class?”
“And Missus Lockwood. Well, I haven’t called Eugene yet. But he’s next.”
Nice to see where Eugene and I rated on the Danger Warning List. But then again, it hadn’t occurred to me to even think about warning any of them to stay away from the ball, in part because I knew it would leak classified information, but also because I hadn’t thought about any of them since before my limo exploded.
“Okay, I’ll do my best.”
“Good. See you next week. I hope.” He hung up, presumably to call Eugene and freak him out next. I mentally kicked myself. I hadn’t asked Jack how he’d gotten my number either.
I wondered if Leslie had called me because Ryan had called her, or if she was calling about something else entirely. If she’d gotten Ryan’s warning, she certainly hadn’t acted like it when we’d spoken. In fact, just the opposite. She clearly expected and wanted me to be at the ball. This opened up a whole new set of questions I would have asked myself, only my phone rang again.
“What am I, the switchboard for American Idol?” I looked at the number before I answered. “Hi Eugene.”
“Kitty, I just got the strangest call from Jack. I didn’t know he had my phone number.”
“Ditto and ditto, dude. You’re calling me sooner than I’d have expected, though. He just called me a couple minutes ago.”