Alien Diplomacy

by Gini Koch

  “Dude, really, you too? I loathe this place.” I realized what I’d said and winced. Chalk one up in the Darcy Lockwood Failure Column. I had no idea why it had slipped out, other than that I liked him already and didn’t feel that I was next to someone I couldn’t or shouldn’t trust.

  McMillan laughed. “Nice to see you’ve relaxed around me. It’s a harsh change from our beautiful home state.”

  “No one else seems to think the desert’s pretty. But I miss it like I can’t even describe.”

  “It’s a different climate, topography, and mindset back home. You’ve only been here three months. Wait until you’ve been here longer.”

  “I’ll like it then?” I asked hopefully.

  “No. But you’ll really treasure the few times you’ll be able to take a vacation and go home.”

  CHAPTER 81

  WE BOTH HAD A GOOD LAUGH, but I did have a question. “Is it that obvious that I hate it here?”

  “Only because I expected and was looking for it. Transitions are always difficult. Especially if you’re…used to being in a more…active role.”

  Chuckie and Mom had said he knew about Centaurion Division, meaning he probably knew who I was, outside of my relationship to Caroline. Still, I was supposed to be keeping the profile low.

  “Yeah. How did you handle it? I mean, you’re a war hero. Can’t imagine a more drastic change than moving from that to what you do now.”

  “Oh, yes, it’s very different.” He sighed. “Let’s stop pretending, just for a moment. When you’re used to being actively involved in things, especially things like protecting innocent people from very real and very threatening dangers, focusing on compromise and diplomacy can be a rocky road to travel on. How are you really doing?”

  “I suck at it. Big time. Why don’t you? Is it just that you’ve been doing it longer?”

  “No. There are times, many times, when I feel just as you do. Like I’m a failure.”

  “Why do you keep on? You’ve been a senator for a long time now. I mean, I know you have a big ranch back home. Why don’t you retire and just have fun for a while?”

  McMillan was quiet for a few long moments. U2 shared that “Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own.” I agreed with their sentiments. “I think about it, periodically. Certainly when it’s time to campaign for reelection.”

  “So what makes you go for it?”

  He gave me a small smile. “Long ago, I was complaining to Kelly about some county ordinance. She got fed up and told me if I really wanted to fix things, then I needed to get involved. So I did. One thing led to another, and suddenly, there I was, on Capitol Hill, representing my entire state.”

  “Was it cool?”

  “It was hell. War is worse, but it’s also more straightforward. The other side wants to win as much as your side, and that means lots of killing, on both sides. And within that, there’s strategy, maneuvering, and more. But the overall goals are simple—especially if you’re fighting in the trenches. The business of politics is all compromise. You break a promise over here so you can get a more important agreement over there. It’s hard not to go to bed feeling dirty.”

  “So, again, why do it? Why keep on?”

  “Kelly asks me that, every election year. But she also asks me this—do I know the hearts and minds of my opponents?”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “I know my own mind, my own heart. I know that what I’m doing, I’m doing for the right reasons, to protect and serve my constituents, this country, the world at large. But I don’t know and can’t know my opponents’ hearts and minds. Or at least, so far, I haven’t believed any of them are more committed than I am, more willing to make the hard choices, more able and willing to call foul when it needs to be called. And until that time…” He shrugged. “I don’t do this so much because I want to, but because I haven’t yet found someone I trust with the job more than I trust myself. And I know I’m not the only one in government who feels like that. There are more of us than I believe most people think. It only takes a few high-profile bad apples to ruin the entire barrel.”

  I looked around the ballroom while I digested this. The former Diplomatic Corps had screwed their own people, as hard and as viciously as they could, for what had turned out to be decades. They hadn’t been willing to step down, ever. White, however, had been a great leader, for a long time. And he stepped aside when he didn’t feel he could lead the hearts and minds of his people as well as Gower could. But he didn’t step down until he knew Gower was ready.

  Jeff and Christopher had done the same thing, left jobs they’d loved and worked hard to get, because there were others they could trust with those jobs—and they were needed elsewhere. Because White had felt there was no one else we could trust to take over the Diplomatic Corps and do the job that needed to be done.

  “So,” I said slowly, “you’re saying that sometimes you need to do the job you hate, that you don’t think you’re good at, because there’s no one better available, and at least you know that you’ll do the best you can.”

  “Yes. I’m saying that unless or until you can trust someone else, you have an obligation to do the job, and do it well, to the utmost of your ability. At least, if you’re a leader,” he added. “Though I think it applies to everyone.”

  “Even if you think you’re better at doing the real protection stuff?”

  “Even then. And, who knows? You might surprise yourself, if you give it a chance. Understanding people’s motivations is a huge part of this job, and from what I gather, you’re quite good at that.”

  “I suppose.” I wasn’t doing so well with motivations right now; none of us were. I looked at McMillan. “Can I ask a hypothetical question?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Why do you assassinate someone?”

  This earned me a long look. “I don’t, but I understand your question. There are a few reasons, all of them political. To remove someone from office, to make a statement against what your target stands for, or to remove someone standing in the way of what you want.”

  “That last one, why do you feel it’s a political reason?”

  He shrugged. “Most human motivations can be boiled down to very simplistic emotions or desires. Love, revenge, money, power. There are others, of course, but you can probably boil them all down to those few.” He chuckled. “Money can boil down to power and revenge can boil down to any of the others. So, I guess that leaves us power and love.”

  My mental wheels were finally turning. But the answer was still out of reach. “Okay, that all makes sense. So, why assassinate someone, as opposed to merely killing them?”

  “You mean, why was JFK shot publicly?”

  “Yes.”

  “To make that statement. And access, of course. Most people of high political importance have a great deal of security around them at all times. Usually it’s only at big events where there are so many people that an assassin can take their shot.”

  “You mean an amateur assassin, right?”

  “Right.”

  Almost there. “So, what if you didn’t want to make a statement? What if you didn’t want anyone to know?”

  “It’s difficult to kill someone and not have the police take an interest. While there are sadly many unsolved murders, the police do their best to solve every case they can. Especially high-profile ones. Killers tend to get caught.”

  “Amateurs, yes. But not the professional ones.” I could feel it, the answer to the question of what was really going on, but my mind couldn’t quite wrap around it. I scanned the crowd.

  “Ah, then we’re talking straightforward murder for hire. That’s a different thing. Your professional assassin doesn’t want to get caught, of course, or make a statement—if a statement’s being made, the assassin isn’t the one really making it. He or she is merely doing a job.”

  “The person paying them doesn’t want to be found out, either. That’s part of why they hire a professional.”
>
  The room was packed, but I finally spotted Leslie dancing with Bryce. They looked extremely comfortable with each other, both laughing and smiling. They smiled a lot alike. I wondered if Leslie still wanted to talk to me or if that had all been some sort of weird thing going on around Ryan’s death.

  “Exactly.”

  “So, it’s safe to assume that some suicides are actually murders done so well that the police are fooled?”

  “Yes, I’d have to say that’s a likely assumption.”

  “So, what do you think about the current police situation in the city?”

  “I think it stinks. I’m not a fan of Titan Security. For a variety of reasons.”

  I looked at his expression. Everyone I knew seemed to trust him. And I knew something he didn’t, which I was fairly sure no one, including Caroline, had briefed him on. “Titan hired people to…watch you while you’re in Paraguay.”

  “Oh, I know. Can’t stand them. I do not approve of turning the protection of city, state, or country over to private enterprise. Possibly because I’m an old soldier, so to speak, but more because I think it’s incredibly dangerous to our liberty, as well as providing no protection for those who’re likely to need it most. Antony Marling and I agree on some things, but not this one.”

  “I’m with you on that sentiment. But there’s more than that. The Titan guards with you in South America…they’re not…what you think they are. And definitely not who you think they are. If you see them in the room, avoid them, and let me know.”

  I got a shot of the McMillan Gaze, which was reputed to be something prisoners, soldiers, and the faint of heart cracked under back in his war days. It reminded me a lot of my mother when she was seriously pissed. Ergo, it didn’t affect me all that much. I’d grown up with this look, usually when I came home late from a date.

  “Just what are you trying to share, young lady?” Young lady, not Ambassador. Yeah, he was trying the Parental Gambit.

  I could play the game, but time was short, we were on the same side, and I still didn’t know what was going on. “Peter and Victor are actually some of those professional assassins we were just talking about.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You have proof?”

  “Right now, only my word. The real evidence was destroyed earlier today.” And, I realized, that was exactly why the garage had been blown up. If the bombs and resulting building collapse killed all of us at the same time, it merely meant it was doing double duty. I had a feeling the Dingo was still alive and that he was here, right now.

  I ran his clue over in my mind. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I knew he’d been telling me what I wanted to know. But the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog still made no sense in terms of anything going on, unless Prince was the target, which seemed more than farfetched.

  McMillan shook his head. “You can’t afford to get into a pissing match with Titan. And by you, I mean American Centaurion. The big security companies are your enemies in more ways than one.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re trying to find down in the Chaco. We want to stop that program, too.”

  He looked grim. “My entire congressional team wants the project found and stopped. We’re so close, but every time, we’re just a little too late. And now I know why.”

  “What do you know about Marling? I mean that the papers don’t print.”

  McMillan shook his head. “Before this conversation, I’d have said we both agreed on the philosophy of increasing help to local, state, and national protection agencies and differed on the paths to take. Now? If your intelligence is correct, it shades everything I know. But why would anyone hire assassins to be a part of the protection team? Doing that kind of clandestine work seems more suited to spooks than to killers.”

  “Aren’t plenty of spooks killers, too?”

  “Yes, but not normally as a professional choice. You have to make hard decisions when you’re in the thick of things, but that doesn’t mean you murder for a living. I know you know that. Because I know you had the misfortune to meet Leventhal Reid before he…died.”

  I looked him right in the eye. “The story is that he was after a group of college coeds while he was high on meth and was subdued by county sheriffs. Unfortunately, to save the girls, the sheriffs had to kill him.”

  “It’s a good story, and you tell it very well.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “I’m close friends with your uncle; we served together for a time. Who do you think he turns to when he needs political approval to pull a particularly brave young lady’s fat out of the fire?”

  “I can guess.”

  “Reid was the worst kind of politician, and man, there is. You did the world a favor. But you didn’t do it because you were paid to, did you?”

  “No.” And actually, Jeff had killed him. To save me. But that distinction wasn’t important right now.

  Some people passed by and waved at McMillan in that way you do when you know you have to be polite but you really don’t want to stop to chat, let alone hang, with the wavee. He gave them a curt nod in return, and we went back to looking like party guests.

  “Who was that?” I asked as much out of interest as to sort of change the subject.

  “The head of the ATF. We’re not on good terms right now. Of course, I don’t get along all that well with most of the Alphabet Agencies, at least, not with the people in charge of them, your mother excluded. All of whom are in the room with us now. Should be a fun party.”

  And there it was. Total clarity.

  CHAPTER 82

  BUT I HAD TO BE SURE BEFORE I leaped into action. “Senator, a related hypothetical. What if you wanted to kill some specific people, but you absolutely didn’t want anyone to know that they were the ones you wanted killed?”

  “A diversionary killing, you mean?”

  “Maybe. More that you don’t want the cops able to determine who the real intended targets were, so that the cops don’t figure out that you gave the order to terminate.” The few cops left, that is, who would be so overworked they’d take the first easy answer they could find, because doing otherwise would mean they, like the K-9 team, would be cut.

  “Terrorist attack is your best option,” he replied without missing a beat. “It focuses everyone on the larger threat to national security, while leaving you free to kill off anyone you don’t like. Of course, you’ll kill many other innocent people along the way, but that’s essentially the point.”

  “Yes, it is. And they’ll get at least a double out of it, too.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  I looked around again and spotted Doreen and Irving just coming off the dance floor. I waved them over and did the fast introductions. “I need you two to stay with the senator and pay attention. Sir, you need to look for anyone on your congressional teams, the one going down to South America for sure, but possibly others. Any of them who are in agreement with you on the private security issues and their related projects. Anyone who the two Titan employees you know would also know by sight.”

  I got one more long look, then he nodded. “Should I get Kelly out of here?”

  “I’d love to get everyone out of here. I’m just betting we won’t be able to.” I was sure I was giving off stress vibes. I wanted to really focus, in case Jeff was involved in a particularly deep and interesting conversation, but before I could, the music went to something really dull and undanceable, and the dance floor cleared. Caroline, Michael, and Kelly rejoined us, Amy, Christopher, and Tito in tow, which was great. But Leslie Manning followed them, which wasn’t.

  “Kitty, there you are.”

  “Hey, Leslie.” I did the required introductions.

  “Where’s your husband?” she asked when I was done.

  “Around. Somewhere. I’m sure.”

  “Well, then, can I steal you away for a minute so we can talk?”

  It was say yes or tell her she’d won the Worst Timing in the World Award. I voted for the former. “Sure. Where’s Bryce?”<
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  “Around.” Leslie looked worried. “I need to talk to you now, while he’s busy.”

  I needed to get the rest of the team focused on what I’d figured out, and I needed to do it without Leslie catching on. She might have information about what was going on, or this might be her way of suggesting I share the bed of love with her and Villanova.

  “Sure. Oh, Ames, your earring’s sort of screwed up. Let me fix it.” I got up close to her. “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog equals the Alphabet Agencies.”

  “Huh?” Amy said, as I fiddled with her earring then moved away. “Uh, thanks, Kitty.” She put her hand to her ear, a confused look on her face. Oh, well, I’d tried. Hopefully Leslie’s weirdness would be brief and I could get back and get everyone moving on getting the obvious targets protected.

  Leslie was watching me; I couldn’t pass any other information without her seeing it. “Be right back. I promise.”

  We walked off. “Thanks, Kitty,” Leslie said. “I appreciate you being willing to help me.”

  “I have no idea what you need help with, and I didn’t exactly promise to help. I said I’d talk to you at the ball. So talk, what’s going on?”

  We passed Bryce who was talking to Marling. They were behind a column and seemed to be arguing, albeit quietly. I turned and headed us closer to them. Leslie noted where I was looking. “You know about Jack?”

  “There’s a lot about Jack going around right now. Which ‘about’ are you referring to?” We were close to Marling and Bryce. Marling looked annoyed.

  “…don’t want to keep on doing this,” Bryce hissed. “We’re tired of pretending.”

  Marling saw us, and his expression shifted to pleasant. “Ah, how nice to see you ladies.”

  Bryce spun around, eyes narrowed. But he smiled when he saw us. “Hey.”

  “Hi,” Leslie said. She seemed uncomfortable. “We were just going to powder our noses.”

  Bryce smirked. “The ambassador does that a lot.” He shot Leslie a look I could only think of as annoyed. I was fairly sure he hadn’t wanted this conversation interrupted.