by Gini Koch
“For what?”
“For Malcolm Buchanan.”
Mom was quiet for a few moments. “Are you and Jamie okay?”
“Only because you know me really, really well.”
“I am your mother.”
“Thank God.”
Mom laughed. “I love you, kitten. And from now on, do what Jeff, James, and Charles tell you to, okay?”
“Love you, too, and I will do. Um, what happens to Malcolm now?”
Mom barked a laugh. “Get used to your shadow. Just never rely on it.”
“Gotcha. Thanks Mom. You’re the best.” We hung up. “So, do you hate the Washington Wife class as much as I do?”
“More. I’m not married.” We were at a stoplight. He looked back at me and winked. “Tell your husband to stay on his toes.”
I felt my cheeks get hot. Great. Buchanan chuckled the rest of the way back to the Embassy.
CHAPTER 90
BUCHANAN DROPPED US AT the Embassy door. “See you around,” he said. “Oh, and remember that no one’s who they seem in this town. Stick with the people who like you for who you really are and you’ll be all right.”
“Thanks.” He waited until I got the Embassy door opened and I waved good-bye before he drove off.
“Kit-Kat!” Caroline called as I walked in. “Where the heck have you been?” She and Amy were both wearing shirts that said “D.C. Babe” on them.
Amy waved clothing at me. “We have one for you and one for Jamie, too!”
“We got them for the other girls, too,” Caroline said. “You think it’ll be okay if we give one to Adriana?”
“Yeah, as long as you have one for her grandmother, too. Who we should really visit at least once a week.”
“Already on the schedule, darling,” Pierre said as he joined us, D.C. Babe shirt on.
“I see you’re part of the gang.”
He grinned. “The requirements were charm and hotness. Our lovelies insisted I fit the requirements.”
I laughed. “Perfectly.”
Pierre clapped his hands twice in front of Jamie. “Is our precious ready to come to her Uncle Pierre for a while?”
Jamie squealed. With joy. I handed her to Pierre, who started dancing with her. The girls were chattering about where they’d gone and how I had to go there with them next time.
Tito joined us. “Christopher’s already out of isolation. He’s over at Dulce, giving his intel. Jeff’s due out in a couple of minutes, and they want the two of you over there once he feels up to it. James said that you two shouldn’t have sex first.”
I laughed and headed upstairs, the sound of my friends’ laughter echoing behind me. I ran into Nurse Carter coming out of our rooms. “Hey, I didn’t know you were still here.”
She looked a little embarrassed. “I think I’m staying. Staff nurse. Doctor Hernandez needs the help, and I have nothing to go back to Paraguay for. Your friend, the one who doesn’t trust anybody, said to tell you he’s cleared me.”
“Works for me, and I’m glad you’re staying. Go downstairs and demand your D.C. Babe T-shirt. It’s a new Embassy dress code requirement.”
She laughed and headed off. I went in to find Jeff waiting for me. He had his pants on, but happily, not his shirt. The sounds of “I Just Can’t Get Enough” by the Black Eyed Peas was playing in the background.
I chuckled and dumped my purse on the floor. “You changed the playlist.”
“Yeah. I like your ‘My Husband’s A Hottie’ playlist more for some reason.”
Katy Perry’s “E.T.” came on and I laughed. Then I heaved a huge sigh and let all the negative crap I’d been carrying for the last three months float away on the air. “It’s really good to be home.”
Jeff cocked his head. “Want to tell me about it?”
I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled my face between his pecs, enjoying the feeling of his hair, skin, heartbeats, as well as his arms around me, while he kissed the top of my head and Katy sang about how great it was to be in love with an alien. I wondered how she knew. “Not right now. Now’s just for being together.”
Washington, it really isn’t like any other town out there. But then, we’re not like any other people out there, either. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Coming in December 2012:
the sixth novel in the Alien series
from Gini Koch
ALIEN VS. ALIEN
Read on for a sneak preview
THE MARTINI COMPLEX WAS HUGE. It contained both the ginormous house Alfred and Lucinda lived in, an almost-as-big guesthouse, and a servants’ quarters that would make most millionaires drool with envy. It also took a good five minutes to drive from the entry gate to the main house. Under these circumstances, that wasn’t a lot of time to prepare for unwanted visitors.
“We really need to get anything remotely incriminating or telling hidden and out of the way.”
Amy shot me a look that plainly said she thought I was crazy. I got that look a lot, from just about anybody and everybody these days. “Kitty, you’re acting like we’re running a meth lab or something. This senator knows about…everyone, right?”
“Right.” He did. Armstrong was one of the people who had a very high security clearance, which included getting to know about the Alpha Centaurions who lived on Earth. But he wasn’t our friend in any way, shape, or form, and I didn’t want him finding some hidden weakness. “But still…”
My phone chose this moment to ring. I checked. Not the senator, but, indeed another number I’d become familiar with. “Hi, Malcolm, what’s up?”
Thankfully, Malcolm Buchanan had been assigned by my mother to be my permanent watchdog. He’d saved my and Jamie’s lives at the end of Operation Assassination. And now, wither I went, so Buchanan went, too. In the case of this situation, he was housing in the servants’ quarters.
“You have company coming.”
“Yes, we know. Not thrilled about Senator Armstrong’s arrival, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Well, get ready,” Buchanan said. “Because there’s a lot more than one person in the limo that’s just pulling up at your front door.”
“We have more than one coming in,” I shared as I slammed my phone closed. “How are we going to handle this?”
“I’m getting the door,” Kyle said. He nodded to Len. “You’re backing me?”
“Of course.”
Len and Kyle had been on the USC football team when we’d met in Vegas right before my wedding. Len had been the quarterback and Kyle had been on the line. They’d both given up promising pro careers to work with the C.I.A.’s ET division. Therefore, in addition to being big, athletic guys, they both packed heat. Ostensibly Len was my driver and Kyle was my bodyguard, but both boys weren’t fans of anyone who tried to kill me, in part because those people also tried to kill the boys at the same time.
I contemplated allowing them to open the door with an impressive show of force. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea that such a cheerful greeting wouldn’t be likely to be included in the Diplomat’s Handbook.
Jamie gurgled. She hadn’t seemed like she was in pain for the past couple of days, so, hopefully, she was fully recovered from cutting all of her baby teeth at the same time. I felt outnumbered and unprepared, and I missed my husband more than I would have thought possible. I opened my phone again and dialed.
“Hey, baby, I was just thinking about you. How’re my girls doing?” Jeff had to ask because he had had to have such strong blocks up in his mind to protect him from our emotions while Jamie was in pain. I really hoped it was time to take those blocks down.
“I think Jamie’s fine. I’m stressed out of my mind. Jeff, are you in the middle of anything you can’t get away from?”
“We’re just doing some paperwork with Reynolds.”
“Great. Can you all get down here, right away? We’re about to have an impromptu visit from Senator Armstrong and I don’t trust his motives at all.”
“Ne
ither do I. We’ll be there right away. You want Reynolds along?”
“Please. I have no idea who else is coming, but Malcolm said he saw more than one person when he called to warn me.”
Jeff grunted. “He’s not in the house, is he?”
“Spend needless jealousy on Malcolm when you’re here, okay?” I lowered my voice. “I miss you. Use the fast hyperspeed.”
“Love you, baby. Be right there.”
We hung up. I kissed Jamie’s head and handed her to Amy, then headed after the boys. Martini Manor was so huge it was easy to catch up to them before they reached the main entryway. And just in time—I got to them as the front doorbell rang.
“Boys, let’s remember that while we don’t like the senator, we aren’t allowed to act like we’re Al Pacino in Scarface.”
Both boys shot me betrayed looks. Their expressions shared that, yet again, this kind of “fun” was not something they thought they’d signed up for when joining the exciting ranks of C.I.A. operatives.
But they soldiered on. Kyle got the door, Len flanking him, just in case Armstrong actually had a carload of mercenaries along for the ride. Of course, I wouldn’t have put it past him, or any of the rest of the Cabal of Evil.
Amazingly enough, Armstrong was in the doorway, no gun or grenade in sight. He was carrying an expensive-looking attaché case and, as always, had the Senior Senator from Wherever look going strong. Even though we were now in the Diplomatic Corps, I still didn’t pay a lot of attention to politics, but the thought occurred that Armstrong probably had his eye on the White House.
This unsettling notion got pushed aside as Armstrong strode in. Armstrong wasn’t the issue—his companions were.
Guy Gadoire followed Armstrong across the threshold, beaming. My mouth fell open. “My darling Missus Martini. You look radiant as always.” He raced over to me as I slammed my jaw shut.
Gadoire was a lobbyist for the tobacco industry. He spoke in a fake French accent that made him sound like a less appealing Pepé Le Pew. He was also bisexual and had, along with his partner, Vance Beaumont, suggested I share a “bed of love” with them only a few weeks prior. Despite all this, somehow, he was not on my list of Potential Adultery Options.
“Guy, what are you doing here?”
“You are surprised to see me, my dove?” He grabbed the hand I hadn’t offered and kissed it. Based on his hand kissing alone, I never wanted this man’s lips near mine. Gadoire was the only man I’d ever met who could make kissing your hand seem completely charmless and unappealing.
The boys stared at him. They’d heard about him, of course, but this was their first real introduction to Monsieur Love, as I called him in private.
“Ahhh…” Gadoire tended to make me speechless, though not for the reasons he assumed.
I heard footsteps behind me and Gadoire’s eyes lit up. I looked over my shoulder to see Amy arriving. She didn’t have Jamie with her. I counted that in the win column.
Gadoire let go of me and turned the “charm” on Amy. “And who is this lovely vision with you?”
“I’m Amy Gaultier. Ah, White. Amy Gaultier-White.” Amy and Christopher had gotten married right before Jamie’s teeth arrived and she still wasn’t used to being married, partially because she’d spent more time away from her husband than with him. But, as she said, that’s what you did when your best friends needed you.
Amy made the mistake of offering her hand. Gadoire snatched it to his lips like he had to kiss hands or die.
She gave me the “oh, my God this is gross” look, but smiled sweetly at him when he straightened up. “Monsieur Gadoire, I’ve heard so much about you from Kitty.”
Gadoire winked at me. “I’m sure you have.”
I managed not to gag. “How’s Vance?” I hadn’t missed anyone from my Washington Wife class while in exile in Florida, but it was polite to ask about someone else’s spouse.
“He’s well. Looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Excuse me?”
No sooner were those words out of my mouth than Vance Beaumont sauntered in. Vance was one of those perfectly put together people the rest of us privately hated. I wasn’t so private in my hatred, but that didn’t stop Vance from grabbing me and giving me a big hug.
I managed not to go rigid or shove him away, but this wasn’t a typical greeting for the two of us. “Hi, Vance.”
“Kitty…if there’s anything I can do, I just want you to know I’m here for you.”
“Huh?”
Vance put the Frowny Face of Concern on. I didn’t buy it for a New York minute. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Talk about what?”
Armstrong cleared his throat. “Guy and Vance are aware of the…situation I need to discuss with you, Ambassador.” He looked around. “Is there somewhere private we can go to talk?” He pointedly looked at Amy and the boys, and it was clear he didn’t want them along for whatever chat he had planned.
“Whatever we need to talk about can be discussed with Amy, Len, and Kyle. They’re all part of our diplomatic mission.”
Armstrong shook his head. “I believe you’d prefer to have this conversation in private, Ambassador. Very sure.”
Something about his tone and expression made me want to pull my Glock. However, my purse was in the room Amy and I were sharing, and besides, if I didn’t want the boys to use extreme force, it was worse if I did.
What I really wanted was backup. I’d called for it. So why wasn’t it here already? Surely they’d had enough time to get to a gate and over here by now.
The gates were alien technology that resembled airport security terminals more than anything else. They allowed you to travel pretty much anywhere in moments. The main gate hub was in the Dome, out in New Mexico, but there were gates all over. The majority of gates were in restroom stalls of every airport in the world, even the tiny ones. For homes, however, if the bathroom wasn’t used, the basements were.
So, Jeff and whoever else he was bringing along should have zipped down to the Embassy’s basement, calibrated, stepped through that gate and out the gate in the basement of Martini Manor. By my count, they should have been here by the time Armstrong got through the door.
But no, I was still backup-less. There was also no way I was having a three on one meeting with this portion of the Cabal of Evil. “I like to live on the edge, Senator. Why don’t you share your news?”
Amy cleared her throat. “Why don’t we get out of the hallway?”
I really wanted to get Armstrong’s info and get him back out the door, but I had to admit I wasn’t being gracious or diplomatic. “Good point, Ames.”
Amy led us to a nearby study. This was Martini Manor—there was a nearby anything depending on your definition of “nearby.” In this case, it was only halfway down the hall.
As with every other room in the house, the study was done in what I called Early American Expensive. The older generation of A-Cs were traditionalists to their cores, and they’d happily adopted Earth traditions the moment they arrived.
It was also decorated in Modern Hunk, since Jeff, Christopher, and Chuckie were all sitting in the lovely club chairs this room contained, looking for all the world like they’d been here for hours.
I would have leaped on Jeff, but I caught Chuckie’s eye and he gave me a look I was familiar with—the “play it cool” look. Know a guy more than half of your life, you know when he wants you to act nonchalant.
Amy was clearly in on the news, because she didn’t look at all surprised. Armstrong, Gadoire, and Vance, however, clearly hadn’t been expecting this kind of company.
Armstrong, unsurprisingly, rallied the quickest. “Ambassador Martini, how good to see you.”
“Senator,” Jeff said with a nod. “I didn’t realize you were bringing along additional visitors.”
Armstrong managed a weak Campaign Smile. “Well, you’ve got additional people too. Nice to see you, Mister White, Mister Reynolds.”
Christop
her gave Armstrong a cold nod. Chuckie smiled without any warmth. “I’m sure you weren’t expecting us, Senator. But it’s more social this way, isn’t it?”
Armstrong shook his head. “I’m not here on a social call, in that sense. Ambassador,” he said to Jeff, “what I have to discuss affects you and Missus Martini. Are you sure you don’t want to ask your associates to wait outside? I have to stress that it’s a very private issue I need to discuss with you.”
I always turned right back into Missus Martini any time Jeff was around. Supposedly I was the co-Head Diplomat, but no one seemed to buy that story, other than Jeff, who steadfastly insisted I was his equal.
“If it’s so private I have to ask why Guy and Vance are here,” I said, before Jeff could respond.
“We’re here to help,” Gadoire said. Vance nodded. They looked serious and concerned, and a part of me wasn’t so sure it was an act.
Amy and I looked at each other. “Help with what?” she asked.
“Again, it’s a private matter for the ambassadors,” Armstrong said. He gave Chuckie a long look. “Though Mister Reynolds might want to remain, as well.”
“All of us,” Jeff said. “There’s no one here we need to hide anything from.”
Armstrong sighed. “When you change your mind, I want you to remember that I requested privacy.” He put the attaché case on a nearby table, opened it, and pulled out a large manila envelope. The rest of us crowded around the table. Jeff was behind me and he took and squeezed my hand.
Armstrong pulled some pictures out of the envelope and spread them out on the table.
We all stared.
“Whoa,” Kyle said finally.
“Wow,” was Len’s contribution.
Jeff, Chuckie, and Christopher didn’t make a sound. Neither did I. I was still trying to process what I was seeing.
“Kitty,” Amy whispered, “what did you do?”
Gini Koch lives in Hell’s Orientation Area (aka Phoenix, Arizona), works her butt off (sadly, not literally) by day, and writes by night with the rest of the beautiful people. She lives with her awesome husband, three dogs (aka The Canine Death Squad), and three cats (aka The Killer Kitties). She has one very wonderful and spoiled daughter, who will still tell you she’s not as spoiled as the pets (and she’d be right).