Alien Collective

by Gini Koch

  “The Yates group is supported by the Al Dejahl terrorist network, and functions as that network does. Plus, they have Club Fifty-One and those lunatic church people helping them, too, even though most of those probably don’t realize it.”

  “So, all our enemies are combined?” Jeff asked. Siler nodded. “Why now? And don’t say my nomination as vice president, which isn’t even official yet. No one pulls together four different groups like this in a day.”

  “They haven’t been pulling them together in the past day,” Siler said, patience clearly forced. “They’ve been pulling them together for the past year, at least. Probably longer.”

  “Definitely longer.” Of this I was sure. “The Mastermind runs the long game much more than going for the short win, though he’s not against getting an easy one whenever he can.”

  “True enough. Meanwhile, instead of doing the same, you’ve all been very stupid about something quite important. Two things, really.” Siler was channeling Algar, how nice for us.

  We were all quiet. Speaking for myself, I could guess one thing we’d been stupid about—Jeff’s family’s potential for turning traitor—but I was at a loss for what the second would be. Everyone else looked uncomfortable or confused. Mostly uncomfortable. Had a distinct feeling everyone had come to the same “I know this one” idea I’d had and everyone else was also at a loss for what was going to be behind Door Number Two.

  Siler rubbed his forehead. “My God, you can’t all be this dim.” He looked around the table. “No. You’re not dim. You’ve all figured out at least one of the things I’m going to say, I can see it in most of your expressions. But you don’t want to say what you’re thinking, because you’re worried that you’ll hurt someone’s feelings, maybe everyone’s. But,” he shrugged, “I don’t care about that. So I guess I’ll be the one to say it aloud.”

  Decided that if this was going to come from anyone, it might be better coming from me. “He means that we’re all avoiding mentioning that if Clarence already went and Stephanie’s now gone to the Dark Side, who’s to say that the rest of Jeff’s nephews, nieces, and brothers-in-law haven’t done the same thing? At least, I really hope that was one of your big reveals. And yeah, no one wants to say that, because they’re pretty much all kids.”

  Siler nodded. “That was one, yes.”

  “Kids are the most susceptible to this kind of enticement,” Buchanan said.

  “I’d like to point out that we only found out about Stephanie today,” I said. “So we weren’t really being stupid about it.”

  “Her father was a well-known traitor,” Siler said calmly. “You should have suspected every member of his family, instead of acting like he was an anomaly.”

  “He’s right,” Buchanan said. In a way that told me he’d already been considering this for far longer than just today.

  “We’ve been watching them,” Chuckie said, confirming my latest suspicion.

  “The C.I.A.?” Jeff asked, sounding like he was ready to get angry.

  “Yes, and the P.T.C.U. Since Jamie was born. Subtle surveillance, nothing intrusive. However, we haven’t found anything, and that includes indications that Stephanie was a traitor. Otherwise, I’d have never allowed her to work with Vander.”

  “Time to up that surveillance to extremely intrusive,” Siler said. “Incarceration wouldn’t be too severe an option.”

  “We can’t just assume they’re all turning traitor,” Jeff said. “I don’t want my sisters and their families spied on, let alone arrested for no cause.”

  “I agree,” I said quickly, before anyone could counter Jeff’s legitimate concerns. “But you, Christopher, and Serene need to do a Superpowers Summit and check every one of the kids, and their parents, too.”

  “If they’re part of the expanded terrorist network they’ll already have emotional blockers or enhancers on them,” Chuckie pointed out.

  “We could take a family photo and Serene and I could try to read it,” Christopher suggested.

  Serene shook her head. “Whatever they’ve done, it’s getting worse. We’re having less and less success with any image, even film that isn’t old. We can try it, but I don’t know that we’ll learn anything.”

  “And it could tip off any who might be traitors, too.” Chuckie shook his head. “I hate to say this, but the best option for finding out who’s involved or not from the Martini family is through Stephanie. And Siler’s the only one who can access her with a hope of getting the truth.”

  “Great,” Jeff growled. “So before we send you off to pal up to my niece, what’s the second thing we’re all missing?”

  “From knowing you, I realize that my saying that the best thing you could do was to hire me to assassinate the entire Gaultier Board, along with the heads of YatesCorp, Titan Security, and Club Fifty-One will be met with gasps of horror and a complete unwillingness to take the easy way out of this situation.”

  “That’s correct,” White said. “We don’t murder. Everyone at this table has had to defend themselves and others, many times using deadly force, but we don’t do it willingly, or with any form of relish or enjoyment. And we won’t.”

  Gower nodded. “If that’s your other suggestion, we’re not interested, and we won’t be interested.”

  “As I said. By the way, professional assassins don’t get enjoyment from killing. It’s a job, it’s what we do. We get satisfaction from a job well done, but not joy.”

  “Annette Dier loves killing, trust me. And, honestly, if I can murder her, I’ll do it with a lot of relish.” The domino of events during Operation Infiltration were set into motion by Dier, and she’d enjoyed killing Fuzzball and Michael both.

  “You say that, but none of you seem to live in the world of revenge, and that’s what you’re talking about with her,” Siler said. “But she’s not a professional. She thinks she is, and she’s skilled enough. But you’re right—she enjoys it. She’s just a psychopath who fell into a career that allows her to kill people without ramifications.”

  “She’s locked down in the bowels of the earth and she’s never coming out,” Reader said. “I think that’s a ramification.”

  “Yes, and that brings me to the other thing you’re all missing.”

  “Not killing people?” Claudia asked. “Because that’s where I thought you were heading with this.”

  He smiled. “No. The other important thing you’re missing is that you have the best leverage in the world to utilize against the only person who can truly affect your enemies where they live, so to speak.”

  “If you’re talking about Russell Kozlow, the son of Chernobog the Ultimate, we’ve been working on that for a year,” Chuckie said. “And we’ve gotten nowhere.”

  “Because you’re not willing to play hardball.” Siler shot Chuckie a very derisive look.

  “We’re the C.I.A. We invented hardball.” Chuckie returned the derisive lob with a bored, been there, done that volley.

  “And yet you’re nowhere.” Siler hit back with an overhanded snide. “In part because you were focused on the waste of time project.”

  “Waste of time per you,” Chuckie backhanded with dismissive disdain. “We still have no proof that you’re not full of it. Odds are at least fifty-fifty that you’re playing some kind of game with us.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Buchanan asked, before Chuckie and Siler could complete their Special Verbal Tennis Match. “It’s easy to tell us that we need to use a prisoner to flip an asset. It’s a lot harder come up with a way that will work.”

  Siler looked up, to the heavens, apparently. “Why me?” He heaved a sigh and looked back at the rest of us. “All this talk of flipping and getting enemies over to your side, and yet none of you have come to the obvious conclusion?”

  “You’re kidding,” Christopher said. “You want Kitty to interrogate Kozlow?”

  Siler looked like Buchanan frequently did—wondering why he was forced to lead the Scout Troop and, worse, forced to work with other
s.

  Thought about it, and the light dawned. “You want me to make contact with Chernobog herself.”

  “At last,” Siler said. “One of them has understood.”

  CHAPTER 51

  THERE WAS MORE DISCUSSION about this, of course, but the logic of the idea was overwhelming, and ultimately logic won out.

  The decision was made to get Hacker International and Olga onto the Hunt for Red Chernobog in the morning. In part because it had been an exhausting day and in other part because we all knew Hacker International would want to do this utilizing Science Center equipment and that would mean they’d be moved in here permanently within a week. Jeff was adamantly against this option, so we’d have to wait until we could all go home.

  I had more questions, but I was tired, and just wanted to go to bed. Maybe even to sleep. But hopefully not right away.

  Jeff picked this up, of course, which was one of the benefits of being married to the strongest empath in the galaxy. He adjourned our meeting and while most of the gang headed to the party my dad was running, Jeff and I headed down downstairs. Sex on the horizon—booyah!

  “I can’t believe you’re okay with everything Siler’s suggesting,” Jeff said, as we cuddled but didn’t have sex in the elevator. Sex booyah delayed. Disappointing.

  “I think he’s probably right, and there’s not a lot of risk with me trying to talk to Chernobog.” Jeff opened his mouth, presumably to argue, and I hurried on. “Besides, I think Siler’s much more on our side than he wants us to know.”

  “Yeah, I get the same underlying emotion from him that I got from Mahin and Serene when they first joined us—the longing for family. It’s lessened in Serene now, and somewhat in Mahin, but I can still recognize it. And he’s got it, too.” The elevator doors opened and we headed for the Lair. “But wanting to be a part of a family or not, I don’t know that we can fully trust him yet.”

  “Well, that’ll keep life exciting, right?”

  “Only my girl.”

  We arrived to find that all the pets other than Bellie were gone, presumably with their owners and/or Jamie. That Bellie was with us still was very disappointing, however.

  Bellie shrieked her love of Jeff to the heavens and they had their Man and Bird Reunion while I contemplated flowers lest Jeff realize how close I was to wringing Bellie’s neck.

  Though a thought occurred. “Bellie, where is Mister?”

  The bird looked right at me. “Mister said Jeff is Daddy for now.”

  “That bodes. Com on!”

  “Yes, Ambassador?”

  “Hey, William, how’s tricks? And by that I mean, where in the world is Mister Joel Oliver? Literally.”

  “He requested that, once you asked after him, I tell you that he’s doing his job and following leads.”

  “What leads?”

  “I asked, but he wouldn’t say. He just said that when you asked this, to tell you that he was investigating the thing that was the most wrong with today’s action against us. He seemed to feel you’d know what that meant.” William didn’t sound convinced I was going to be on Oliver’s wavelength. Couldn’t blame him.

  “Ah. Nothing else?”

  “No, Ambassador, I’m sorry. Should I have not allowed him to leave? He was insistent.”

  “No, that’s okay. He’s a grown man and he’s used to risk. I’m a little worried about him being off alone right now, though.”

  William cleared his throat. “Ah, he’s not actually alone.”

  “Oh? Who’s with him?”

  “Len, Kyle, Jeremy, Jennifer, Adriana, and Walter.”

  “Wow. That’s not an investigative team, that’s a strike force. And really, Walter’s with them?”

  “All Security’s been trained for Field actions now, baby,” Jeff reminded me. “And Walter has nothing to do over here, since his job is currently evacuated.”

  “Good point. Okey dokey, please have all bases gently alerted that should one of those seven call in for help, they’re priority one, got it?”

  “Gentle alerts will be sent out.” He sounded just a little too pleased.

  “You already sent them, didn’t you?”

  “Ah . . .”

  “I’m not mad. He’s your little brother. And under the circumstances, we have a team waltzing around during a dangerous time. I call that good initiative, William, not insubordination.”

  “Thank you, Ambassador.” He now sounded relieved, go me. “Anything else?”

  “I’d love to tell you to come get Bellie and have her keep you company, but I realize, from the Death Glare Jeff’s shooting me, that that won’t be allowed. Could someone get a roomy cage with a very secure cover on it?” Sex booyah denied. Totally disappointing and really made me want to make Fried Parrot on a Stick.

  “Actually, Ambassador, Pierre requested that he get to have Bellie stay with him tonight.”

  “Awesome. Send someone to collect the bird and make a note that Pierre needs a raise.” Sex booyah reinstated! The night was looking up.

  “Tell them to just walk at human speeds,” Jeff said. “In fact, have them here in around fifteen minutes, if you would.”

  “Yes, Representative Martini.” William signed off.

  “You want more time with your avian mistress?”

  “Yes, but I know where your mind’s at, and I’m all for it. I never want you to lose your focus on the priorities.”

  “Good man.”

  “Good man! Good man! Captain is a good man!”

  We both stared at Bellie. “Haven’t heard that in a while,” I said finally. “Jeff, try asking her some questions.”

  “Where is Mister?” Jeff asked in the lovey-dovey tone he always employed with Bellie.

  Nothing.

  “Is it Hammy time?” I asked.

  “Hiding Hammy, hiding Hammy! Keep hiding Hammy!”

  I was sufficiently shocked to realize that Bellie was responding to my questions more than to Jeff’s. Sure, I’d worked with the bird during Operation Invasion, but Bellie was the winner of the Sluttiest Parrot of the Year, every year running, and she vastly preferred men to women, and almost anyone to me.

  Meaning Oliver had told her to help me.

  Say what I would about her, Bellie was one smart bird, especially for an Earth animal. But she was trigger focused, usually activated by a word or a phrase. “Bellie, what did Mister tell you to tell Kitty?”

  “Bellie wants to go home.”

  “Don’t we all. Anything else, Bellie?”

  “Bellie wants treats!”

  While Jeff went to the mini-fridge in the living room to request bird treats from the Elves, I pondered this. Bellie normally asked for treats after she thought she’d done her job. So, what word in her last sentence was “the” word? The only one I could come up with was home.

  Jeff and Bellie returned, him feeding her treats while they both nuzzled each other. Controlled my gag reflex. “Jeff, you think Oliver and the others have gone back to the Embassy?”

  “Why would they?”

  “No idea. I just think we may need to focus on the word home.”

  “Bellie wants to go home! Bellie wants treats!”

  “That’s the word, see how she’s reacting to it?”

  “She just wants to get back to her normal routine, I’m sure.”

  “No. Pay attention to her. She’s getting treats—but she’s asking for them after she says she wants to go home.”

  “Maybe there’s something going on at Oliver’s place?”

  “Does Bellie want to go home to Mister?”

  “Mister wants to go home. Bellie wants to go home. Home, home, home! Bellie wants treats.”

  Thought about the clue Oliver had left with William while Jeff gave Bellie more food and loving. “What other home could she be talking about if it’s not the Embassy or Oliver’s place?”

  “Home Base?” Jeff suggested offhandedly, still engrossed with his beloved birdie.

  “Oh. Wow. That’s it.”r />
  He stopped nuzzling Bellie and turned to me. “What do you mean?”

  “Oliver said he’s investigating the thing that’s the most wrong with today. So, what’s the most wrong?”

  “Everything that’s happened, starting with me being on the presidential ticket.”

  “No. I don’t mean weird, or dangerous, or anything like that. Oliver is an investigative reporter, he works with words, and he chose them carefully. He chose ‘home’ and ‘wrong.’ And he said in today’s action against us, not attack, action. Meaning something coordinated. And the only coordinated attack was what happened to us outside of Home Base.”

  “Okay, I follow that. And if I stand back and look at it, the thing that stands out as the most ‘wrong,’ versus unusual, to me is that Home Base didn’t come to support us. But they were fooled by that fake presidential order.”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “As Chuck likes to say, I know that look. What?”

  “Colonel Franklin would have ignored an order like that. He’d have found a way around it, or pretended not to understand it, because he likes and supports us. The world’s in one piece because he’s willing to trust us over protocol. He’s been a supporter of Centaurion Division since he’s known about us, which was well before I did, and probably before you became the Head of Field.”

  “That’s about right. That’s why he was moved to Andrews.”

  “Right. So, who moved into Home Base?”

  “We’ve met him. It’s Colonel John Butler.”

  Tried to remember if I had any impressions of him. Not really. Honestly couldn’t remember what this man looked like or that I’d met him. This was Alpha Team’s bailiwick, and even though I was still technically the Head of Recruitment, being the Ambassador meant I didn’t get out here much. If we were having a meeting with Alpha Team, most of the time these days it happened in D.C.

  “What do you get from him, emotionally or otherwise?”

  Jeff shrugged. “The usual. Nothing negative. Why? Are you thinking that he’s one of our enemies?”

  “I think Mister Joel Oliver is considering it as a possibility.”

  “Let him.”