by Gini Koch
CHAPTER 10
THE COP LOOKED AT ME, and I reached into my purse. He went for his gun. Martini moved so fast I couldn’t see it, but the cop was on the floor, knocked cold.
“Jeff, what the hell?” Christopher asked, as he pulled me to the side.
“Oh, that’s not going to be easy to explain,” Reader said as he exited the stall of wonder.
“Yeah,” Tim echoed as he joined us. “Why’d you knock him out?”
There were a lot of other men in the bathroom, all frozen in what looked like terror and all wanting, clearly, to know the same answer.
A-Cs really couldn’t lie, even when they’d worked at it for years, as Martini had. It was, as was always the case in our bathroom escapades, up to me.
“Federal officer,” I barked. “Nobody move.” The men complied; most of them hadn’t been moving anyway. I jerked my head toward the cop. “Let’s get him out of here.” Martini nodded and hefted the cop over his shoulder. A-Cs were strong as well as fast. I managed to keep myself from drooling—every time Martini did something I considered overwhelmingly manly I wanted to have my way with him immediately, regardless of the situation.
I looked around and gave the men an icy stare. At least, I hoped it was icy. I’d been practicing, and in the mirror it was intimidating. Reader and Martini had, so far, only laughed at it. “Gentlemen, you’re lucky. I’d suggest you all do your best to forget this little incident ever happened.” I stalked out, with the rest of my guys following. My icy glare worked on strangers, at least.
We got out of the bathroom, and I turned so we were at a waiting area that, happily, had no plane leaving or arriving for a while, so it was fairly empty. Martini dropped the cop onto a seat.
“You could be a bit nicer to him,” Reader said.
“He was going to shoot Kitty,” Martini snapped.
“Well, he was probably going for his gun. But that doesn’t mean he was going to fire.”
“No,” Martini looked right at me. “He was going to shoot you. I felt it. He panicked and thought you were going for a gun. He was going to shoot to kill and ask questions later.” Martini had kept his tone level, but his eyes were flashing.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “You were there.”
I pulled out what I’d been going for in the first place and used it to slap the cop awake. Martini had both of the cop’s arms held behind his back. “Yo, Rambo, you want to maybe not think about killing a federal officer the next time?” I opened the thin wallet and held it in front of his face.
“P.T.C.U.?” he asked, sounding fuzzy.
“Presidential Terrorism Control Unit. You might want to learn these letters, son. Or I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your days in Nome, Alaska.”
He nodded. “Sorry, ma’am. You just startled me.”
“You’re lucky you’re young and I’m somewhat forgiving.” I looked up at Martini. “Let him go.”
He did, reluctantly, and the cop rubbed his wrists. “Look, please don’t tell my superiors. I’ll get reprimanded.”
Martini lost it. He grabbed the cop by the back of his neck and flung him against the wall. He was in the cop’s face within a moment, one hand holding the cop by the throat and off the floor. “You were going to kill her,” he growled. “You’d better pray that all you get is a reprimand when I’m through with you.”
Christopher jumped over the seats and grabbed Martini’s arm. “Jeff, not now and not here.”
Reader was on his cell, talking urgently. Tim was moving people away, telling them this was police business. And I had no idea what to do.
The cop was panicked, and I saw his hand moving toward his gun again. “Kid, you really want to die, don’t you?” I asked softly.
His eyes met mine. “He’s gonna kill me.”
“No,” Gower’s voice came from behind me. At least Reader had had the brains to call for backup. “He’s not. However, I’m going to have your badge pulled. Jeff, take his gun and let him go.”
Martini wasn’t moving. “Jeff . . . please,” I said softly.
He stood there for another few seconds, then he nodded and let go, pulling the cop’s gun so fast I didn’t see him do it. He handed the gun to Gower, he didn’t look away from the cop to do it.
The cop took a shaky breath. “Thanks,” he said to Gower.
“No, don’t thank me,” Gower said, his voice like ice. “I’ll be the last person you want to thank when my report’s in.” He looked behind him, and I did, too. There were four A-Cs waiting. “Take him back to Home Base.” They nodded, grabbed the cop, took his gun from Gower, and went off, back into the bathroom.
Martini hadn’t moved. I went to him. “Jeff, it’s okay.” I stroked his arm. Christopher and I exchanged worried glances. This really wasn’t like Martini, and Christopher looked as confused by it as I was.
Martini shook his head. “No. It’s not.” He turned to Gower. “Thanks.”
Gower nodded. “Since I’m here, let’s get the five of you onto your plane.”
We moved on, but I kept my badge out. “Since when are you a federal agent?” Reader asked me quietly, while Martini and Gower strode on ahead of us, both radiating a lot of anger. Christopher stayed on my other side, and Tim was to our rear.
“My mother thought it would be a good idea and a useful tool.”
“Oh, you’re not a federal officer, just playing one on TV.” Reader chuckled.
“Whatever works. Besides, Mom gave it to me.”
“I suppose if the head of the P.T.C.U. gives you a badge, you’re allowed to use it. Even if it’s illegal,” Christopher said thoughtfully.
“Um, what we did with that cop’s illegal.”
Reader shrugged. “They’ll take him back and do a short-term memory wipe.”
“How, by knocking him out?”
“No, we have the technology to do that.”
“Love your planning,” I said to Christopher.
Reader coughed. “No, that’s American government technology, girlfriend. Our brothers from another planet hate using it, but it comes in handy when something goes down like it just did.” Christopher gave me a rather smug look.
“Good point. Any idea of what’s wrong with Jeff?”
“No more than what’s wrong with Paul.”
“Christopher? You’re not nearly as pissed off as those two. What’s going on?”
“No idea. I haven’t seen Jeff this mad in a long time.”
I remembered the last time I’d seen him that mad—it was when Christopher and I had sort of made out while Martini was unconscious. I didn’t want to be the reason for that kind of anger ever again.
“Sucks to be us, I guess.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Maybe it’ll calm down once we’re in Florida.” Christopher didn’t sound as though he believed it, but then, neither did I.
I was going to ask why going to Florida was such a big deal—I mean, both sets of my grandparents had lived there for a while and seemed unscathed by the experience—but we reached our intended gate.
Martini and Gower went to talk to someone who looked official, and I looked at the flight information board. The plane going to Florida had been delayed. For two hours. I sidled up to hear what the others were talking about.
“. . . been holding this plane for you for over two hours,” the official airport employee said, sounding more than annoyed. “The other passengers are still on board.”
Gower nodded, and Martini didn’t argue. But before I’d joined up with the boys from A-C, I’d been a marketing manager, and I’d done a lot of traveling. And this was making what Martini called my feminine intuition nervous.
“Excuse me, are you saying that you’ve held a full commercial flight for five passengers?”
The woman looked at me. “Yes,” she snapped. “And I’ve had to field an unbelievable number of complaints about it, too.”
“Sorry. And, sorry to ask, but are we in first class?”
“No.”
“So, um, why did you hold this particular plane? Is it the last one going to Florida today?” I knew it wasn’t—it was just after noon. There would be at least a dozen choices between now and midnight, probably more.
“No, we have three more going before nine this evening. One’s already left, but I wasn’t able to move any of this plane’s passengers to it.” She seemed frustrated and frazzled.
“Wow, that sucks. They didn’t let you move them? After everyone was screaming at you? No one bothered to think how that was affecting you?”
She gave me a grateful smile. “No. They never do.” “That sucks more. So, the other plane wasn’t full, and they made you keep everyone on this one? For us? I mean, clearly, we’re not important enough for that.” I nudged Martini with my foot, hoping he’d try to help me here.
He picked it up and gave her what I thought of as his killer grin. She visibly melted. Yeah, I did that too, every time. “You know, I’m so sorry,” he said smoothly. “We’ll just get on and get out of your hair.”
“Um, no,” I said quickly. They both looked at me. “I’m kind of wondering who’s made these decisions that are making,” quick look at her name tag, “Alicia’s life so miserable. I want to be able to complain to someone—this was wrong, and wrong for them to make her handle it alone.” I gave her a commiserating smile. “I know what it’s like to get bossed around,” I waggled my eyebrows toward Martini and Gower.
She smiled. “Yeah, I’m sure.” She hit some buttons on her computer screen. “My bosses weren’t happy about it either,” she said. “The person who approved this was a Mr. Leventhal.”
I looked over to Gower. “Know him?”
He looked confused. “No. Not at all.”
I nodded. “Alicia, I think we have a situation.” I showed her my badge. “Presidential Terrorism Control Unit. We’re working undercover, and I think that cover’s been blown.”
She looked frightened. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing yet. But I don’t want the plane going anywhere, okay?” She nodded and I pulled Martini and Gower away. “Something’s wrong. Very wrong.”
Gower started to argue, but Martini stopped him. “She’s human, you’re not.”
I dug my phone out of my purse. “Do nothing, I need to call someone.”
CHAPTER 11
I DIALED AND, HAPPILY, got her on the second ring. “Hi, Mom, I need your help.”
“Kitty, what’s wrong? You sound stressed.”
“Mom, are you still in town by any chance?”
“No, kitten, you know Dad and I are in D.C. already. We had an early flight.”
I figured they’d been on something other than a commercial jet, but we didn’t have the time for me to ask. “I need someone to get over to Saguaro International, fast, someone from your team. Got anyone in the vicinity?”
“Sure, Kevin Lewis, he’s my main field operative, and he lives locally. What’s going on?”
“I think something big, but I’m not positive. But someone who has real authority to wave a P.T.C.U. badge around needs to get here fast. I’m about to start what’ll be a huge incident.”
“Hang on.” I heard her call to my dad, get his cell, and make a call. “Where are you at?”
“Terminal Three, departures, Gate Twenty-Nine.”
She spoke some more on the other line. “Okay, he’ll be there pronto. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Alpha Team was called to a situation in Florida.”
“So?”
“So, note that we’re at Saguaro International, not Miami? We’re being told we have to take a regular jet, not a gate or one of the A-C planes.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “So, maybe there’s a political reason.”
“Yeah, that’s what we were told. However, the flight we’re booked on, booked in coach, I might add, has been held up two hours waiting for us. The plane’s full other than the five of us going, and they let another plane going to the same destination, which was not full, go. The gal working the gate wasn’t allowed to pull anyone off our plane and let them go on the other jet.”
“What do you think it is?”
This was a test question. I knew Mom knew already. “I think there’s a bomb on it that’s supposed to ensure that Alpha Team is wiped out.” I didn’t add that this would mean all the innocents on board would be wiped out, too. I’d had firsthand experience with how evil people could be five months ago.
“Yes, there is. You have a plan?”
“Yeah, actually, I do.”
“Okay, call me if you need me. Roll your plan now. Kevin will be there fast to back you.”
“Will do. Love you, Mom, and love to Dad.” I hung up and looked at Gower. “Glad you’re here. Trust me when I say that if you don’t back me, right here and right now, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
I didn’t wait for his response, just went back over to Alicia. “Okay, we have a situation. I need this terminal cleared. I want nothing off that plane yet, particularly the luggage, and I don’t want the passengers or crew off, either. I want no one on the plane notified of what’s going on yet. I will also want to see every single person who’s worked on that plane since it got here today.”
She nodded and looked freaked out. I reached across the counter and put my hand on her arm. “I’ll be taking the full responsibility for this. Whatever we need to tell your superiors, we’ll tell them, okay? You’ll either be a hero or you’ll be blameless, I promise.”
Relief washed over her face. “Thanks, Miz Katt.”
“Kitty.” She tried to keep from smiling. “No problem, it’s funny.”
She chuckled. “But cute.”
“Just what my parents thought. Now, let’s get this fun-filled panic attack over, shall we? I’ll take care of clearing the terminal, you get all the maintenance personnel in here, and we’ll deal with the passengers and luggage once that’s taken care of.”
She got onto her phone and I went to my team. “I want every passenger cleared out of here. I’d like them moving calmly and happily, and I’d like them in baggage claim or somewhere else really safe.”
Gower opened his mouth, to argue I figured. I put my hand up. “Paul, I haven’t read the file. But I promise you, this is a setup. I don’t want to die, particularly not right now. So, again, you either help me, or I make your life a living hell.”
He heaved a sigh. “Fine. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll back you.”
“It’s hallucination time, boys. Let’s hurry it up, too.”
Martini nodded and he looked at Christopher. “All planes delayed, free food and drink in baggage claim, non-essential Security told it’s an approved publicity stunt?”
Christopher grinned. “Sure, why not?”
They both looked as though they were concentrating. Among the many new things I’d learned was that there were gases natural to Earth that the A-Cs used to cause mass hallucinations. Those A-Cs who worked in the field had something implanted into their brains that helped them manipulate the gases to create whatever hallucination they wanted to.
The human operatives were given monthly injections to keep us immune to any hallucinations. These were administered to our necks via an alien injection device. It looked like a hand can opener without any blades, but it did the trick and happily didn’t hurt. It didn’t work for everything, though, as I’d had to learn the hard way. Some things, like adrenaline, had to be done via hypodermics, and in the case of Martini’s adrenaline needs, it meant using a hypodermic that looked a lot more like a harpoon than a sewing needle. The case I had to carry looked more like a gun case than medical supplies.
One by one and in groups, the passengers cleared until there were just a handful who apparently weren’t hungry or thirsty.
“What do you want us to do about them?” Martini asked me.
“I want them strip searched.”
“What?” Wow. Five men all yelling that in uniso
n. The sound was impressive.
“She’s right,” a voice I didn’t know said from behind me. I turned to see a tall, handsome black man. Human, but I only knew that because he wasn’t wearing Armani. He looked like an athlete. I wondered how quickly I could find his underwear ad. He put his hand out to me. “Agent Lewis. Here to help.” He flashed me a smile that was close to rivaling Martini’s. “Angela said you were in charge,” he added with a wink. “Oh, and call me Kevin.”
“I’m Kitty.” I managed not to giggle. Geez, I hadn’t acted like a teenager when I’d met Martini or Reader. This was embarrassing. But Kevin had bags of charisma. I introduced him to the rest of the team and noted Reader was checking him out as much as I was.
Martini, Gower, and Christopher were all glaring at Kevin. It dawned on me that Reader and I were both being a little obvious in our drooling.
“How much info on our situation has my mother given you?”
Kevin smiled again. He had great teeth. “I know all about Centaurion Division. And,” he added, looking to the other men, “I’d like to thank you. If your agents hadn’t acted when they did, my wife and children would have been killed during the engagement with Al Dejahl.”
Darn. Married. Oh, well. I saw Reader have a similar reaction. No matter that Martini’s expression was genial, I figured he was probably mad at me.
He gave Kevin a big grin. “Kids, huh? How many?”
“Two. Boy and girl.”
“Got any pictures?”
“Sure. Happy to show ’em off when this is done. They’re the best.” Kevin looked back to me. “So, how do you want to do this?”
“I want those still sitting here searched and then put somewhere in a holding area, just in case.”
“What do you think we’re looking for?” Reader asked me. “Everything would have gone through airport security already.”
I’d been giving this a lot of thought, in between admiring Kevin and trying to keep said admiration from Martini. “Two options. In the first, we’ll discover one of the maintenance personnel has slipped a bomb into the belly of the plane. In the second, it’ll be more than one, perhaps several. Put together they’ll have the components to create a bomb, but separately each component will be harmless.”