by Gini Koch
Lifted the top of the card up. Open immediately, before you leave for your meetings.
Well. Either our enemies were aware that only a handful of people called me Miss Katt, or I’d gotten a package from the Dingo. Slipped the package into my purse. “Thanks. Could you let the others know that I’m going to visit the bathroom before we all hustle off?”
“Absolutely, Ambassador.”
He turned to share my potty news and I zipped off to the bathrooms. Got into a stall, just in case I’d end up needing to flush whatever was in this. Put the package up to my ear. No ticking. Not that this meant anything.
The smart money said to take this to wherever the bomb unit was within the Science Center. It existed, I just didn’t spend time there. However, speaking of time, I didn’t have a lot before I had to gate it over to the White House.
Someone else came into the bathroom. “Kitty, are you in here?” It was Serene. Well, conveniently, the Bomb Squad had come to me.
Opened the stall door. “Yes.” Handed her the package. “Think this is a bomb? I don’t, by the way.”
She examined it. “Why not?”
“I recognize the handwriting. And there’s no way in the world anyone’s going to make the Dingo or Surly Vic write a note they don’t want to.”
“It seems okay, but we won’t know for sure unless we search it or you open it. I knew you were up to something.”
“Blah, blah, blah, I wasn’t trying to be stealthy.”
She giggled. “Liar. Why were you in the stall?”
“So I could drop it into the toilet and flush whatever if it was a bomb.”
“That rarely works.”
“Rarely doesn’t mean never. You ready to live on the edge?”
“True. And yes.”
We went into the stall together.
Opened the package carefully, holding it over the toilet, to find a burner phone and a note. “Well, that was anticlimactic.” Opened the note. Please call the number programmed into this phone approximately 5 minutes before your press conference. No sooner, and definitely no later.
“Huh. Well, this is certainly from my ‘uncles’ because they live for the cryptic cloak-and-dagger stuff.” Had a feeling they found this to be the fun side of their jobs, protecting and messing with me. I was just lucky that way.
“I’m going to the press conference with you, then,” Serene said. “Just in case.”
“Works for me.” Dropped the burner phone, card, and note into my purse. Serene checked the rest of the packaging and declared it interest-free. Tossed the paper and box into the trash and we headed out to rejoin the others.
Things were rather chaotic, in part because those who weren’t going to the press conference were going to go home first, and then join Jeff and Armstrong at Capitol Hill, and we had a lot of people to relocate back to their places of residence.
Found Lucinda and Dad so I was able to give Jamie a hug and kiss. “Be a good girl for Grandma Luci and Papa Sol, Jamie-Kat.”
She hugged me back. “I will, Mommy. You and Daddy be good, too.”
“We’ll do our best.” Gave her, Lucinda, and Dad one last hug and kiss, then Raj came to drag me off.
We all went to first floor, which housed the main launch area, motor pool, and related moving-things-around functions and equipment. There were easily as many people here as we’d had when we were heading to Vegas to stop Kyrellis from blowing up half of Sin City. That entire thing seemed so much easier than what I was faced with today.
Speaking of Amazon fighters, Rahmi and Rhee had shape-shifted to look like a couple of female Field agents. Female agents were rare, but we had them, so this worked. They both assured me that they would not attack anyone without provocation and Chuckie’s direct order, and that protecting Jeff, the senators, Chuckie, and anyone else we cared about would be their top priority. Was happy they were going with Jeff and tried not to worry that they’d forget the “Chuckie’s direct order” thing the moment someone jostled them.
As I left the princesses, Jeff found me and hugged me. “You’ll do great, baby.”
“Picking up my stress?”
“Blocks or no, yeah.” He kissed me, rather chastely for us. “Just remember, no matter what happens, you’re always my girl.”
“True enough. Jeff? Promise me you’ll be extra careful and highly vigilant.” Wondered if I should tell him he was the new king of this chess game. Decided he’d probably be more relaxed and less aggressive if I didn’t.
He hugged me again. “Always, baby, you know that.”
“Never that I’ve ever seen.”
Jeff grinned. “That’s why we fit so well together, Kitty. We both think the other one’s the reckless one.”
“And here I was thinking it was the great sex.”
He laughed. “That too.”
Reader joined us. “Jeff, Kitty, make out later. It’s time to get this party started.”
CHAPTER 56
CHOSE NOT TO WHINE at Reader and instead behave like an adult. Gave Jeff one last kiss, while sending a mental request to ACE and Algar to watch over him and the rest of Team Announcement. Then I went and joined Team Press Conference.
Guy Gadoire was there, of course, but this was the first time he and I had been near each other since all the fun had started the day before. “Ah, my dove,” he said in his totally faked Pepé Le Pew accent, as he grabbed my hand and proceeded to do his “thing,” which was to slobber all over it. “You look radiant as always.”
“Thanks, Guy.” Managed to extract my hand without jerking it back. “Really appreciate your coming to support us.”
“For you, my dove? Anything and everything you ask.” He winked. “Anything and everything.” Really hoped he wasn’t going to suggest I share a “bed of love” with him and Vance right now; I needed Diplomatic Decorum in charge, not the Inner Hyena.
White joined us as I controlled my gag reflex. “Ah, Monsieur Gadoire. Lovely to see you. Excuse me, I’m escorting the Ambassador.” He moved us away, pulled a small pack of wipes out of his jacket pocket, and gave me one.
“You rock above all others.” Wiped Gadoire’s “kiss” off and dropped the wipe in a convenient trashcan. Made sure no one saw, to keep my façade of being diplomatic going.
White took my hand as we approached the gate. “I’d offer to carry you, but Jeffrey would object.”
“True, but you’re the best, Mister White.”
“We’re still assuming it’s catsuit time?”
“We are. We definitely are.”
With that he and I stepped through the gate, me with a death grip on White’s hand. I was revved up just enough that I only had mild nausea, so I didn’t toss the cookies in the White House, for which I was fairly sure everyone would be grateful.
Mom was already over there, along with the four troubadours Raj had selected, none of whom I knew well, and a bunch of White House staffers whose names I didn’t even try to remember. They were all a blur. Not only was I nervous, but I had to call the top assassins soon and had no guess as to what wrinkle that was going to create. Wanted desperately to listen to tunes, but knew the reaction I’d get, so left my iPod and earbuds in my purse.
My Glock was in my purse, too, but we hadn’t been screened for weapons, possibly because we’d come over via gate and into the vestibule for this area. Decided not to point this error out as we walked down a wide corridor with a large, red, gold-bordered carpet. The walls had white columns interspersed with portraits, and the whole corridor was lined with chairs I doubted anyone ever sat on and doorways to other rooms we weren’t going into.
Gold and red was the definite color theme in this area. Culver fit in really well here—she looked far less out of place and even a little less angular. It also explained why so many First Ladies favored red as their color—why not blend in with the fancy décor where you’d be doing a lot of entertaining?
Vance had come along with us as well and he grabbed me away from White as we near
ed our destination. “Kitty, I heard from Mister Joel Oliver this morning.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes. He said to tell you that there are things he’s about to bring to light about everything that went on yesterday. Should coincide with your press conference, depending on when he gets the go-ahead.”
“Did he say anything about Home Base?”
Vance shook his head. “No, that’s all he said. Other than that I should have my phone on and be ready to share a live web feed.”
“Fantastic. Okay, thanks for the heads-up. Hey, did you work with Raj and Pierre on my stock replies?”
“Yeah. I’m also here to help them spot the reporters who are going to be the biggest problems, and to let you know who Bruce Jenkins is.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I have my ways.”
“We’re here,” Mom said, before I could question just what ways Vance thought he had.
The East Room was really a giant ballroom—it reminded me of ours at the Embassy. There were incredibly ornate gold and glass chandeliers, tall windows with gold drapes all over the room, the ubiquitous old oil portraits hung tastefully on the walls, and a parquet floor mostly covered with a gold-and-red carpet. Yep, red and gold were this area’s colors. Go ASU and USC. Thinking of those universities made me wonder how Caroline and Chuckie were doing and if they were in as much danger as Jeff, and if Len and Kyle were okay and if they were still with Oliver.
The room was set up with a dais at one end, topped with a lectern and a lot of chairs behind it, but with even more chairs on the main floor. As near as I could tell, other than those on the dais, all the seats were filled.
“I want to freshen up, just for a minute,” I said before we walked fully inside.
Mouths opened to protest. “I’ll go with her,” Serene said quickly. “I know where it is.” She linked her arm through mine and we hustled down the hallway and into the lovely Presidential Ladies’ Room.
Didn’t take time to look around. Serene made sure we were alone as I turned on the burner phone from the Dingo. Sure enough, there was only one number programmed into it.
“It’s about the time they told you to contact them, but should I be here for this call?” Serene asked after she gave me the thumbs up that we were alone.
“Sure, why not?”
“They’re your uncles and they sent it to you.”
“If they mind, they’ll tell me, I’m sure.” Hit the number. It rang four times before it was picked up. No one said anything. “Um, Uncle Peter?”
“Ah, Miss Katt, it is you.”
“In the flesh, so to speak. How are you and Uncle Victor? And what’s the good word? I’m rushing because I go on, as you know, in five minutes. Thanks for ensuring we didn’t all die yesterday, by the way. That was truly appreciated by all of us.”
“We were happy to assist. Victor and I are both fine, thank you for inquiring. And the good word, so to speak, is that evidence has been planted that will show that, true to the accusations, Centaurion Division was responsible for all the bombings around the world yesterday. I would expect someone to have that information by the time your press conference begins.”
“Fantastic. I knew we all felt too confident. So, is this evidence something we can get rid of, something we can explain, something we can prove to have been planted by the real mad bombers, or should I just tell everyone we’re leaving the planet on the first spaceship out of Dodge?”
“Actually, I would strongly recommend you take responsibility for the bombings.”
CHAPTER 57
LET THAT SIT ON THE AIR for a bit. “Excuse me?”
“Take responsibility for the bombings,” the Dingo repeated, presumably because he thought I hadn’t heard him. “At your press conference. Not before. Do not discuss this with anyone. Well, other than the young lady with you. I’m sure she will be able to offer some expert comments.”
“I heard you. I really meant what the hell? Only stronger.” So he knew Serene was with me. Wasn’t even remotely surprised. For all I knew Surly Vic was in the audience and the Dingo was pretending to be White House staff. Nothing these two did surprised me anymore.
“There is a reason.”
“God, I hope so. Care to share what that reason is?”
“Certainly.” He sounded disappointed.
Tried to think fast. “Um, was there something far worse that we ‘blew up’ that will also be discovered in a timely fashion that will show us to be saving the day?”
“Well done.” Now he sounded happy. Good, I was keeping my most dangerous “relatives” in the Proud Zone. Go me. “Yes. You can explain that the reason the bombs injured no one and only did minor damage is that they were set that way, in order to protect those the terrorists wanted to harm. And because there was no time to remove what the terrorists had placed.”
“What were we destroying?”
“Ricin bombs.”
“Um, for real?”
“Yes. Your enemies are terrible people.”
“They used to employ you.”
“No longer. They make most of our clients look like choirboys. Besides, technically, we were hired by the Pentagon for the job we were on when we met.”
“True enough. Madeleine Cartwright probably figured out a way to pay you with taxpayer dollars. How’d you find out what was going on, though?”
“We were alerted to this by the contract on your embassy.”
“Oh, so that’s the poison they were supposed to release to kill us all?” Terrible people didn’t begin to cover this group. And this wasn’t the first time they’d used poisons. The Mastermind clearly liked them. Filed the fact away to discuss with the others later.
“Yes. I believe you have met our mutual friend?”
“Siler? Yeah. We have him ‘captive’ at the moment.”
“Good. Be sure to let him ‘escape’ when he requests it. He is taking the contracts from your enemies, and then Victor and I are countering them. Our bombs burned hotter and went off sooner than the ricin bombs. High heat destroys the toxin.”
“They planted these all over the world.”
“They did.”
“How did two of you manage to find and counter them all?”
“We did not work alone.”
“Wow. The entire Assassination League is working on this?”
“Yes. Mass murder is very bad for business.”
“Good point. Kill off a billion people, lose at least a million potentially high-paying jobs.”
“Exactly.”
Thought about it. “Did you guys happen to have help? As in, A-C help?”
“We might have.”
“Can I trust those A-Cs?”
“You certainly have in the past.”
Camilla was the only likely A-C who could somehow be working with the Assassination League and not let on about it. But one A-C, no matter how good, would have trouble blocking every bomb that had gone off yesterday. Even Christopher would have been hard-pressed to do it.
“More than one A-C?”
“Yes. They are all loyal to you, Miss Katt. Their leader in particular.”
Leader. There was one other group of A-Cs who we’d certainly used for a kind of covert op in plain sight action. And they definitely had a leader. And he definitely needed a raise, too. After he and I had a long heart-to-heart chat about sharing with me and why it was good. However, I had a feeling my leader had his own leader as well.
“Gotcha. Um, for the announcement, should I go for offensive or defensive on this one?”
“The best defense is a good offense.”
“You know, why is it so much easier to work with you than half the people I deal with?”
He chuckled. “Because you think right. We will be in touch. Keep the phone. I will send you a new number shortly. Good luck, Miss Katt.” With that he hung up.
Dropped the phone back into my purse. “Serene, can you keep a secret for,” checked my watch,
“about another two minutes?”
“Sure, Kitty.”
“Great. You’re coming up with me when I make my speech. Because my speech has changed dramatically, and the Q and A is going to need your expert touch much more than mine.”
“Why?”
“Lots of reasons. But, I need Scientist Serene onstage, not Airhead Serene.”
Her lips quirked. “What do you mean?” Still sounded completely innocent and naïve.
“I mean I’m on to you. You’re not a Liar, with a capital L, so much as you have some troubadour talent in there that no one’s spotted. When you want us to think of you as Miss Innocence of the Year, we do. When you want to exert your authority, on the other hand, you do that, too. And no one notices that most of the time we think of you as a sweetheart who just manages to be the best bombs expert the world has.”
“Not sure what you’re insinuating, Kitty.” I could feel it, now that I was aware of the talent, feel her using her voice and expression to make me think she had no clue. But this was the downside to the troubadour talent—if you knew it was being used, you could counter it.
“Not insinuating. Flat out saying—you have troubadour talent. So I’m wondering . . . why didn’t you use it when you were young? Think carefully before replying. I will know if you’re lying.”
Serene looked at me closely for a long moment. Then shrugged. “It came on normally when I was a teenager. I already knew they didn’t love me—why try to make them? I just wanted people to like me for who I was, not who I could make them believe I was. Besides, I’m not nearly as strong in that talent as Raj and some of the others are.”
“Sure you’re not. I’m wondering . . . how did Raj get assigned to our Embassy Mission?”
“I might have suggested him, in passing.”
“I’ll bet. Great choice, by the way. You know, around here, women are actually allowed to show that they know what the hell is going on.” So were men. Unless they were troubadours.