by Gini Koch
“How would my talking to the First Lady have any bearing on this?” Tobin asked, shaking me out of my mourning for my dead “uncles.”
“All assassination requests against you and yours are still being ignored by the community,” Siler said to me, speaking softly. “I don’t know how long that will last, but for right now, there’s no assassin that would take a hit on you or anyone else you care about for fear of retaliation. And the Cuban Mob was schooled and has decided that you’re far more work to kill than you’re worth.”
“I feel the love.”
“You weren’t talking to her,” Reader snarled. “You were tracking her. And you were tracking her with intent to harm.”
“Now, son, there’s no way you can prove that. And it’s untrue as well. And, under these antagonistic circumstances, I’m not saying anything more without my legal team present.”
“James is dead on,” I said to the room and earpieces at large. “Tobin’s trying to get rid of Jeff, and anyone else he thinks might have a Yates blood tie, in a believable fashion. And nothing’s more believable than a terrorist attack, particularly one started by the Club Fifty-One Loons.”
“We can’t prove it,” Jeff pointed out. “And I can feel him clearly—he’s not going to say another word to Chuck, James, or Tim.”
“We don’t need to prove anything right now. Suspicion of terrorist activity is more than enough for Chuckie to do exactly what he said he’d do. What I want to know is this—how did Tobin know that Jeff was a direct descendent of Ronald Yates?”
“Aren’t you making a leap with this?” Jeff asked. “That he’s trying to kill me or knows who is or isn’t related to dear old granddad, I mean.”
“Does he even know Yates was an A-C?” Christopher asked.
“No idea. But my so-called women’s intuition is insisting that he likely does.”
“Stephanie might have said something,” Lorraine added.
Claudia nodded. “Or someone else. We just said that Tobin might be getting his intel from others. What if it’s not from an A-C but from a former human agent, one of those loyal to the former Diplomatic Corps?”
“The girls have good points, Jeff, and besides, I know I’m right—Tobin’s figured out that the most potent risk to his keeping his position at YatesCorp is you.”
Jeff sighed. “You’re rarely wrong.”
“True enough. Chuckie, we need to know why Tobin thinks an invasion is coming as well as how he knows that Jeff is part of the Yates bloodline. Without, of course, confirming for him that Jeff or anyone else is indeed part of that bloodline.”
Chuckie tried. So did Reader. So did Tim. But Jeff had called it right—Tobin wouldn’t speak.
“Guys, let him sit for a while and come into the room with us.” Once again everyone looked at me. Shrugged. “It’s a standard cop show tactic.”
Chuckie shot me the “really?” look, but the three of them left Tobin handcuffed to the table and joined the rest of us as requested.
“He’s not going to crack,” Jeff said when they joined us. “He’s got a very strong will, and he’s unwilling to talk to any of you anymore. And he doesn’t want to talk to an alien, either.”
Considered our options. Decided they were few and the one I wanted to go for was the right one. “Then let me talk to him.”
Mouths opened. Put up the paw. Mouths shut. Enjoyed my FLOTUS Power for a moment. “Regardless of anything else, the person he called was me. The weak link is presumed by our enemies to be me. So, let me do one of the many things I do best.”
Jeff didn’t look happy. “I don’t like it,” he muttered.
“He can’t hurt me,” I pointed out. “He’s shackled to the table and, besides, I’m more than capable of taking him. And we’re loaded with Secret Service and Field agents burning to be of service.”
“I don’t want you going in there alone,” Jeff said.
“He’s not going to talk with other people in the room. Is he aware the rest of us are watching?”
Jeff concentrated. “He feels he’s being watched, so yes.”
“Fine. Then let’s move him to another location.”
“He’s going to feel he’s being watched anywhere you put him,” Tim pointed out.
“Possibly. But not if we switch it around and put him in this side of the interrogation chamber.”
“I don’t want him observing us,” Jeff said dryly. “If that’s okay with you and all.”
“So picky. Fine, then all of you wait elsewhere. But bring Tobin in here. Jeff, I’ll pretend to be Mister Smith and use an earpiece, you can all be on a group call nearby and feed me intel, but I really want to know what he’s thinking.”
“The room’s set up for this,” Reader confirmed. “We keep Secret Service and Field outside the conference room, we all go to Imageering and observe. We’ll have the Secret Service ensure that Tobin sees we’re gone when he’s brought to Kitty.”
“I don’t want her alone in here, period,” Jeff said, Commander in Chief Voice going strong. “I realize he isn’t armed, but since we have androids and robots running around all over the place, call me a caveman but I don’t want my wife left alone with someone who could attack her or worse.”
“Oh, I won’t be alone.” Reached down and petted Prince. “I’ll have three big German Shepherds right here with me.”
Prince nudged up against Jeff, who sighed and petted him. “Fine, I’ll trust you all on this. Because we either need to get Tobin’s information, arrest him, and therefore let him advise his legal counsel, or let him go. We can’t take too much more time with this—we have a world to warn and prep.”
“And he seems far too aware of that, so, barring Chuckie having truth serum on hand, I think we need to try my plan.”
“I’m far more willing to take Tobin to Guantanamo than I am to give him sodium pentothal, and I’m less willing to let him lawyer up, so while I share Jeff’s concerns, I think Kitty’s track record says we give her interrogation skills a shot.”
“Just don’t do a lap dance this time,” Tim said with a grin.
“Oh, that was so Operation Drug Addict ago, Megalomaniac Lad. I have a different approach in mind.”
“And that is?” Jeff asked, sounding and looking unamused.
“I plan to fight folksy with folksy.” And then I’d play hardball, but that didn’t need to be said aloud.
Jeff and Chuckie both groaned. “I can see so many ways this can go wrong,” Chuckie said.
White chuckled. “Or, as we call it, Charles, routine.”
CHAPTER 34
“I BELIEVE THAT I RESENT all your insinuations.” Definitely not the time to tell them that I was going to play hardball sooner as opposed to later. They wanted a show, they’d get a show.
“This I gotta see,” Jerry said. The rest of the flyboys indicated that they were looking for popcorn and front row seats as well. Chose to feel that they were being supportive, but it took effort.
Despite Jeff’s begging for ideas to the contrary, no one could come up with a better option for how to get Tobin to talk again, so I was given my Matrix earpiece and everyone other than Prince, Duke, and Riley trotted off. Tobin was unshackled and brought in to me. The Secret Service agents tried to shackle him again, but I stopped them.
“You’re not worried I’ll attack you?” Tobin asked, sarcasm knob definitely at eleven and threatening to go higher.
Shrugged as I waved the Secret Service out of the room. Then I patted Prince’s head. “I have protection if you try anything funny.”
“Yes, I’ve heard how fond of animals you are.” Tobin seated himself next to me. “And as they say, money can’t earn the wag of a dog’s tail.”
“True enough. I tend to feel that dogs are a good judge of character.” Well, Prince, Duke, and Riley were. Our dogs, the ones we’d inherited when my
parents had moved to D.C. and into a no pets building, were not nearly so picky. All Tobin would have needed to do to get three out of four of them into his lap was offer a doggy treat of any kind.
On cue, Prince growled softly at Tobin. Who patted his head without seeming to have any concern. “He’s a good dog, guarding his mistress.”
“These aren’t my dogs. These are trained police officers.”
Tobin chuckled. “Doesn’t mean they don’t think that, when push comes to shove, you’re theirs and vice versa.”
“I can’t speak for the dogs,” Jeff said in my ear, “but Tobin is far more relaxed with you. Still on his guard, but this is exactly what he wanted, to sit down with you. Stay sharp, baby, he’s smarter than the average enemy you have to confront.”
Apparently it was time to move on from the small talk. “I’m curious, Amos.”
Tobin stared at me. “Beg pardon?” he asked finally.
“I’m curious about what in the world is going on. Why did you call me?” He opened his mouth. Put up the paw. He shut his mouth. Wondered if all the other First Ladies had enjoyed this power as much as me. “Don’t tell me you wanted to chat, Amos. We both know that’s a lie, and if you want to be my friend, you won’t lie to me. You were tracking me. Why?”
“I was concerned for your safety.”
Managed not to roll my eyes. “You’re a hugely successful businessman who has literally no experience in espionage. And yet, here you are, at the middle of a huge conspiracy and, frankly, looking at a frightening few months wherein you’re taken to a hole in the ground and the YatesCorp Board finds your replacement and then forgets about you. I’m curious as to how you got here. I didn’t figure you for a Don Quixote type.”
“His worry spiked,” Jeff said. This earpiece thing was working nicely. “He hadn’t considered the option you just raised.”
“I’m not tilting at windmills, Madame First Lady, and you know it. I know you’ll do whatever you need to in order to protect your husband, whether he’s right or wrong.”
“Where is my husband wrong?”
Tobin shrugged. “I understand why the A-Cs are here. But having one as President is too much.”
Leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. “Interesting viewpoint, coming from a black man.”
“My race has nothing to do with this.”
“He’s telling the truth as he sees it,” Jeff shared. “He’s honestly worried that aliens are going to replace humans on this planet.”
“Which is a legitimate concern,” Chuckie added. “Be careful what you share, Kitty.”
“Actually, it does,” I said to Tobin. “Because race is about to become a thing of the past. We’re all humans and we’d all better act like it, sooner as opposed to later.”
“And I point out that the president isn’t a human.”
“You sound like Gutermuth and Pecker.”
Tobin shook his head. “I understand why you’d think that. But I don’t hate aliens.”
“You just want them kept ‘in their place,’ right? You know, like blacks, Jews, women, gays, and so on. Or you want them to leave the planet. But only if they leave all the things they do for us and gave us that help us. Those you want sticking around.” Didn’t even try to keep the disgust out of my tone.
“No, that’s not what I want.”
“Oh, sorry, forgot who you like to hang out with. What you actually want is to control the A-Cs and, barring that, you want them enslaved or killed.”
“I am not your enemy, young lady.”
“He’s mad,” Jeff said. “He started getting angry when you compared him to Pecker—though not Gutermuth, which is probably significant—and he’s gotten angrier as you’ve continued to speak.”
“Well, old man, you haven’t exactly acted like our friend.”
Tobin’s jaw dropped. “What did you call me?”
“Old man. Seemed appropriate since you called me young lady. I presume that was to put me in my place, but, in case you haven’t been paying attention, I don’t cave for that crap.” Leaned forward, while the three dogs did the low growl thing. “Understand me, Mister Tobin. I am the First Lady of these United States and you will treat me and my husband, your President, with respect, or I will personally ensure that I find every single person in the galaxy with Ronald Yates’ genetics and get them all onto the YatesCorp Board. And then I’ll next ensure that they remove you and the rest of the Board in a New York Minute.”
Got and held eye contact with him. Time to see if he was up to Mom and Chuckie’s standards. He was good at the Stare Contest Game, but Rage had joined my party and there was no way I was blinking first.
Sure enough, Tobin finally blinked. Then he leaned back. “I see that everyone’s sold you quite short.”
“Yeah, it’s got to be hard for you to have that Come to Jesus Moment wherein you discover I’m not the weak link.” Narrowed my eyes. “In fact, you might want to consider just who you’re screwing with and rethink your various strategies.”
Jeff chuckled in my ear. “Yes, he’s reassessing you as fast as he can. He’s also impressed. He wasn’t before, but he is now.”
“Who am I screwing with?” Tobin asked.
“Self-control,” Chuckie said urgently. Knew he didn’t want me to share anything key, such as the fact that I was the person responsible for Ronald Yates’ death. Sure, Mephistopheles had let Yates die so Mephs could try to move to me, but that was likely nuance I had neither time nor inclination to share.
“The woman who can send you into the darkest hole you can imagine, or who can ensure you get to continue doing whatever it is you actually do.”
“You’re threatening me,” Tobin said mildly.
“No. ‘I’m going to rip your balls off and shove them down your throat if you ever try to track me again’ is a threat. Stating reality isn’t threatening, it’s sharing the full situation.”
“Where is Janelle Gardiner?” Tobin asked. Presumably to throw me off my game.
But since I actually knew where she was, this wasn’t derailing but merely intriguing. “Somewhere safe. Which I’m sure will disappoint the hell out of Ansom Somerall.”
“He’s not trying to throw you so much as he really wants to know if she’s alright,” Jeff said. “And his reaction when you mentioned Somerall is interesting—Tobin doesn’t like Somerall. At all.”
Tobin’s eyes flashed. “Just what did you do to her?”
“He’s emotional, for the first time,” Jeff said. “It’s complicated, but, I think . . .”
“You’re in love with Janelle, aren’t you?” I asked.
Tobin stared at me. “She’s an esteemed colleague and a friend. And Ansom told me that your people had taken her.”
The moment of truth. Did I trust him with the truth or not?
“I’m not sure what you should do,” Jeff said. “You threw him, though, and his emotions are completely jumbled.”
Siler appeared behind Tobin. Managed not to jump out of my skin but only because I’d been focused on keeping a poker face. He looked at me, nodded, then went back to blending. Realized he’d been in the room the whole time, since the dogs didn’t react at all.
Knew what Siler was telling me to do. And, really, what did we have to lose?
“You’re right. We did take Janelle.”
CHAPTER 35
TOBIN STARED AT ME. “What have you done to her?”
“Us? Nothing untoward. I think she’d describe our taking her as a rescue. She was being held prisoner by Ansom and Talia Lee so they could create Fem-Bots in her image. I and my team rescued her just in time. Oh, and there’s a Fem-Bot of her wandering around, or at least there was, so unless you’re seeing Janelle in the company of a confirmed P.T.C.U. agent, be careful, because the Bots like to blow up.”
“Just like his mind,” J
eff said, “which is officially blown. He doesn’t know whether to believe you or not.”
“Why aren’t Ansom and Talia under arrest, then?” Tobin asked, sounding dazed but trying to rally.
Gave him a good dose of the “really?” look. “Why would you think?”
He actually appeared to be giving this consideration. “You didn’t catch them red-handed.”
“He has no issue believing that Somerall and Lee were behind doing something terrible,” Jeff shared. “And he also has no issue believing that we were the good guys. But he wants to see Gardiner.”
“Correct. We have only Janelle’s testimony and, until we feel that we have an ironclad case, neither she nor we want to risk allowing her out of protective custody.” Cocked my head at him. “Would you like to see her?”
“I would. Very much.” He seemed to catch himself. “Just to reassure myself that she’s well and you’re not telling me a whopper of a tale.”
“You know I’m telling the truth, just like you know that Somerall and Lee are more than capable of doing what I just described. It’s interesting, though.”
“What is?”
“I was under the impression that Quinton Cross was Janelle’s, ah, protector, supporter, mentor, and champion.”
Tobin’s eyes flashed and I recognized the look in them. But Jeff’s confirmation was nice. “He’s incredibly jealous of Cross. Who’s jealous of a dead man?”
Heard Chuckie snort and the rest of the room chuckled. Yeah, Jeff was the King of Jealousy, but now wasn’t the time to point that out. I’d leave that for the others.
“Quinton was a good man,” Tobin said, sounding reasonably insincere.
“Who was or wasn’t banging the chick you wanted?”
Tobin gaped at me. “Excuse me?”
“I’d swear I thought you were married.”
“I was,” he said stiffly. “My dear wife passed away due to the bioterrorism attack that put your husband in the President’s seat.”
“My condolences. Losing the person you love most is never an easy thing to go through.”