by Gini Koch
“Great. Next, can you find Malcolm Buchanan?”
“Right now?”
“It’s important right now.”
“Excuse me, have to take this.” I could hear Christopher get up and leave his table. “Okay, now that I’ve rudely taken a call and left in the middle of a senator’s discussion of alien rights, let me search for your lost love.”
“Geez, does Jeff routinely ask you to handle the jealousy for him if he’s busy elsewhere?”
“No. That’s . . . weird.”
“I’m gonna hate this, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, I can’t find him. Should I search the cosmos?” This wasn’t Christopher being snarky. Well, it was, but he could make good on the offer. Since his Surcenthumain boost, Christopher could “see” all the way to the farthest planet in the Alpha Centauri system.
“No, I have a horrible feeling he’s somewhere in the tunnel system.”
When we’d first discovered the deep and, it turned out, ancient tunnel system, it had been cloaked at least as well as the Crash Site Dome, and had been impenetrable via A-C talents. At the end of Operation Destruction we’d been able to see and map all the deep underground tunnel system—everyone had thought this was thanks to the Poofs finding and taking the Evil Flying Dino-Birds’ myriad hidden power cubes.
Everyone had also assumed we’d be able to see and fully function within the tunnels and their connected rooms from then on. But within two weeks the tunnels had gone back to being cloaked, we couldn’t get in and out of the rooms without a power cube, and tunnels and rooms both were once again impenetrable to the talented A-Cs, Jeff and Christopher included.
After the horrible discovery Chuckie had confirmed with me this morning, I now wondered if we’d been able to “see” the tunnel system because ACE knew we’d need to map it and also knew he wouldn’t be around to help ensure we could continue to “see” the system whenever we might want.
Christopher pulled me back to the present situation. “Okay. So what’s our next move?”
“I need you to see if Representative Reyes is sick or okay.”
“Okay.” There was a pause. “Oh my God!” Christopher hung up.
Decided that meant Reyes was really sick. Tabled the issue of where Buchanan and Hamlin were and ran like hell for the Zoo.
Christopher had beaten me and was slamming against the bathroom door.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I joined him. Camilla was nowhere in sight.
“Reyes isn’t sick. He’s dying. I sent Camilla for Tito, Lorraine, and Claudia. Why the hell are these doors so damn tough to break down?”
“Pierre had them reinforced for the soundproofing. And they’ve got a lot of metal in them.” I slammed into the door with Christopher.
Did the trick and the door flew open. Reyes was on the floor, vomit and other horrible bodily fluids all around him. He was convulsing and if I’d thought he’d looked bad before, it was nothing compared to now.
There were footsteps behind us and Tito and the three women ran up. Camilla was holding Tito’s hand. He gagged when they stopped, the usual human reaction to hyperspeed. Reyes started to vomit up blood.
“You didn’t take your special Hyperspeed Dramamine?”
“I did, I take it every day now. But this is horrible. I’m a doctor but I wasn’t prepared for this.” Tito motioned to me to step out. “Christopher, can you help me with diagnosis?”
Christopher grabbed Tito’s hand and touched Reyes. Because of Christopher’s expanded talent, he could see inside someone. This particular aspect of his expanded talents had helped save a lot of us over the past year.
“Where’s Nurse Carter?” I asked Camilla.
“Left her upstairs in case someone else was affected.”
Tito shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on with him. It’s as if all his internal organs are trying to shut down.” He looked over his shoulder at me and Camilla. “You two were the closest to him. What happened and when?”
We described Reyes’ symptoms. “I thought it might be botulism,” Camilla said.
“It’s not, and it’s not the flu, though the initial symptoms sound similar for both. Think. Give me everything, even if it seems stupid or unrelated.”
My memory nudged. “Oh. Well, I smelled garlic on Santiago’s breath. I don’t remember us having garlic in any of the food, though.”
“Oh my God. Arsenic poisoning.” Tito started barking orders to Lorraine and Claudia, who were both working at hyperspeed.
Christopher and I looked at each other. “There’s no way that’s an accident,” he said.
“We have to lock down the upstairs, and this floor. Everyone’s food and dishes have to be searched. And no one can be allowed to leave.” I’d seen enough cop shows to know the basics.
Christopher pulled out his phone and made a call. I couldn’t focus on what he was saying—I was too focused on Reyes. Christopher hung up. “James is on it.”
As A-C agents poured out of the bathroom stall on this floor that contained the gate and spread out, presumably through the Zoo and potentially the Embassy, a thought occurred. “Why isn’t Jeff down here? There’s no way he’s missing this level of anxiety.”
“He knows. I told him to stay and keep things calm upstairs. Kitty, what the hell are we going to do?”
“We need to get him to Dulce, STAT,” Tito snapped.
“We can’t,” Camilla replied before I could say anything. “He’s too high profile. This has to go through proper channels. Proper human channels.”
“Then call nine-one-one,” Tito said. “Because this needs more medical than we have here.”
“Already handled,” Camilla said. “But we’re going to need police, too, I think. Because arsenic means a murder attempt.”
“I know who to call.” Pulled out my phone. Looked at the burner phone in my purse for a moment. Poison wasn’t the Dingo’s style. And he’d said no one they were after would matter to me. He wasn’t stupid; he’d have to know Reyes would matter to me. So either the Dingo was lying to me—always a possibility—or he wasn’t the assassin in charge of this.
The police wouldn’t want anyone to leave. Only I didn’t know where Hamlin and Buchanan were. Meaning at least two people technically with access weren’t here now. Decided to worry about these issues later. Like as soon as I could tell Jeff later. Which wasn’t now, however.
Scrolled through until I found the number. I didn’t keep these guys on speed dial. Happily, phone was answered on the first ring. “Officer Melville.”
“Hey, Herman, it’s Kitty Katt-Martini.” I’d stopped calling him Officer Moe, Ishmael, or Ishmoe. At his specific request. It was tough to do, but anything for our men in uniform.
“I know. I have caller ID. What can I do for you, Ambassador?”
“I need you and the rest of the K-9 squad down to the American Centaurion Zoo facility five minutes ago. I think someone just poisoned one of our party guests, using arsenic, I must add, and we are officially out of our element. It’s time for you to repay the favors we did for you during Operation Assassination.”
“You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be, based on what our staff doctor is saying. We’ve called nine-one-one, not that any ambulance with hunky, life-saving paramedics is here yet, but I’d like to see a friendly face right now, so please bring Prince along.”
I heard someone talking in the background. “The information just came over the police and fire bands.”
“American Centaurion is specifically requesting you and your K-9 squad. We’re not asking for the rest of the police force.” I could technically get away with this request, because we were on American Centaurion soil, so to speak.
“I understand. We’re on our way.”
We hung up and I fretted. Tito and the girls were working feverishly, but Reyes looked no better.
Christopher took my hand. “He’ll pull through. Tito’s the best doctor there is.”
&
nbsp; I wanted to be comforted. I wasn’t. I knew ACE frequently gave Tito a little assist here and there. This didn’t detract from Tito’s medical awesomeness, but in cases like this—where the patient was close to death—it was a huge comfort. But ACE wasn’t around, and I couldn’t bet on him being able to help.
“Someone has to handle the door, whenever the paramedics get here.”
“I will,” Camilla said. “Lorraine and Claudia are better with medicine than I am. I’ve called for more medical support. I’ll handle cops and paramedics. Only the K-9s in, right?”
“Right, at least for now.”
She zipped downstairs as a slew of Dazzlers, including Melanie and Emily, Lorraine and Claudia’s mothers, arrived.
Christopher and I backed out of everyone’s way. Some of the Dazzlers were cleaning up around Reyes, but it was still awful to watch and hear. Reyes was in agony, and I wanted to do something, anything.
Steeled myself, let go of Christopher, and shoved into the room. Knelt down in a clean space and took Reyes’ hand.
“Kitty, get out of here, you can’t help,” Tito said. Reyes clutched my hand.
“No. I’ll move when you need me to, or do whatever you need, but I’m not leaving Santiago alone.”
Tito looked at me, then at Reyes, and nodded. “Fine.”
I ignored what the medical staff were doing and focused on Reyes. “Hang on, Santiago. We’ll get you taken care of.”
“The . . . crouton . . . was easier,” he gasped out.
I managed a laugh. “Yeah.” I squeezed his hand. “Tito’s the best. You’ll be fine and we’ll be laughing about this in a couple of days.”
Reyes convulsed again and I stopped talking, though I didn’t let go of his hand. The Dazzlers got him completely out of his clothes, because his clothes were covered with blood, vomit, and other less savory fluids. Three of them lifted him onto a gurney while the others ensured he was cleaned off. Sheet pulled up to cover his lower body.
I wasn’t looking at any of this much; I was focused on holding his hand, on keeping him connected to someone during what had to be the most terrifying moments of his life. I was terrified, and I wasn’t the one going through this.
Tito, Lorraine, and Claudia had been working on him nonstop through all of this. I had no idea what they were doing. I was just aware that it didn’t seem to be helping.
Paramedics arrived; Tito briefed them on the medical procedures so far enacted for presumed arsenic poisoning. Took a quick look and saw Melville standing with Christopher, his dog, Prince, sitting at attention. Prince sniffed toward us and whined. I figured that didn’t bode well for Reyes.
The paramedics’ conversation with Tito wasn’t boding well, either. I heard phrases like “massive amount of arsenic for these reactions” and “you’ve done all the right things.” If we’d done all the right things, then why didn’t Reyes look better?
The paramedics joined the Dazzlers, but didn’t have most of them move off. More medical things were perpetrated on Reyes. He still looked awful.
“Kitty,” Reyes gasped. “Promise me . . .”
“Yes?” I leaned closer to him. “What do you need, Santiago? Whatever it is, I’ll handle it.”
“Promise . . . my desk . . . you’ll clean . . . it out. You . . . not . . . someone else.”
“I promise.” Wondered just what kind of porn Reyes had hidden he didn’t want the press or other politicians getting their hands on. “Do you need anything else?”
“Like to . . . see tomorrow.” Reyes managed a twisted grin. “Dinner and . . . a show. What a way to . . . go.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Santiago. Other than to the Georgetown Medical Center.”
He squeezed my hand again. “Tell James . . .”
“Yes?”
“I hope . . . he’s . . . right and . . . ready.”
“Right about what? Ready for what?”
Reyes didn’t answer.
CHAPTER 20
REYES WASN’T LOOKING at me any more, and his hand felt limp in mine when he’d been holding tightly only a moment before.
Someone put their hands on my upper arms and moved me gently away as the paramedics started slamming the pads onto Reyes’ chest and doing the electroshock thing to make someone’s heart start beating again.
A few minutes of this dragged on. Then Prince threw back his head and howled. The rest of the dogs in the K-9 squad took up the cry. I’d heard this before, during Operation Assassination, when Prince had determined one of the squad and his dog had been killed.
While Prince and the other dogs were howling, the head paramedic and Tito had a brief, quiet conversation. The head paramedic shook his head. Tito slid his hand over Reyes’ eyes, closing them. The paramedic covered Reyes with the sheet. The dogs quieted.
“He can’t die. He can’t be dead. He’s a good guy.”
“Even the good guys die, baby,” Jeff said softly. I realized he was who was holding me. “I’d like American Centaurion personnel accompanying the body,” he said to the paramedic in charge.
“We can’t allow anyone to leave,” Melville countered. Prince strained against his lead, but Melville kept him under control.
“We’ve locked off this floor from the walkway and the Embassy,” Jeff said. “Security personnel aren’t allowing anyone to come or go, other than authorized police and paramedics, who are already inside. However, we don’t have a morgue here, so we need to have the . . . body removed for examination.”
“That’s what the paramedics are for,” Melville said.
“No offense to them, but I want someone I know I can trust protecting Representative Reyes’ body.” Jeff said this calmly, but his tone insinuated he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“We can have agents from another base come over,” I suggested. “Our people, but who weren’t here at any time.”
“I want people we can trust witnessing the autopsy,” Tito added. He looked grim and upset. Lorraine and Claudia looked ready to cry. The rest of the Dazzlers looked no better, including Camilla, who looked more upset than Tito. Had a feeling she felt she’d just failed at her job.
“It’s irregular,” Melville said.
“We’re on American Centaurion soil.” The positive about being angry was that it stopped me from crying. I pulled out of Jeff’s hold and turned on Melville. “Someone murdered Santiago in our home, and they did it in a way where he suffered horribly. And that someone probably wants to frame American Centaurion for this, too. I called you for help. You either help or you get out.”
“You can stop snarling at me,” Melville said calmly. “Irregular doesn’t mean ‘no.’ It means we need to make arrangements, that’s all.”
“And you’ll make them quickly, and quietly, without advising the press,” Chuckie said, voice set at his deadly level, as he joined us.
Melville didn’t even bother with trying to stare Chuckie down—he’d already lost that battle during Operation Assassination. “Fine. I assume we’re giving the C.I.A. jurisdiction on this one?”
“No, the P.T.C.U. The head of which is upstairs already organizing the questioning of the witnesses and ensuring no one touches anything. Helped by A-C Security.”
“Does everyone know?” I asked. Because if they did, inevitably someone upstairs was texting to the press.
“Yes, because Camilla gave me and Angela the head’s up and your mother knows how important ensuring all the attendees are rounded up and held is to an investigation. The dogs’ howling made it clear we have murder, versus attempted murder, on our hands, which is why I’m down here. Your mother already confiscated all cell phones and other PDAs, so we’ll have a short time before the press descends on us.” Chuckie looked at Jeff. “You need to get back up there.”
“Not until I know Santiago’s body is going to be protected and we have assigned Centaurion personnel guarding his body along with Doctor Hernandez and his medical staff.” Jeff almost never called Tito anything other
than Tito, and he never called Lorraine and Claudia “medical staff.” However, times like this demanded official titles and I completely approved of the sneaking in of Centaurion Division personnel.
“They’re suspects,” Melville pointed out.
“How so?” Tito asked. “We were nowhere near the head table.”
The head paramedic nodded. “Arsenic poisoning of the level we believe we have here would have taken no more than thirty minutes to react. From what the doctor’s told me, you were all eating dinner by the time our victim would have been poisoned.”
“That means kitchen staff, wait staff, and members of the head table,” Chuckie said.
Melville cleared his throat. “Ah, that means the Ambassadors are suspects.”
“Really? Because we’d be stupid enough to kill someone at our own dinner party, in our own Embassy? And kill off someone who wholeheartedly supported us to boot?”
“Perfect crime,” Melville said. “If you got away with it.” Everyone shared looks of outrage as Melville put his hand up. “I’m not saying you’re involved. I’m saying that I’m the head police officer on the scene and you’re suspects. I can allow you to wander off, and then people can question, or I can treat you as suspects right now, get your statements, search you, and let you go on about your business.”
“Do it, quickly,” Chuckie said.
Melville had two of the other K-9 officers pat me, Jeff, Chuckie, and the others down. Thankfully, none of us were hiding bottles of poison on our persons. Fast statements were taken. They all corroborated each other—nothing had seemed amiss, no one had acted oddly, particularly toward Reyes, and no one else’s food had caused any kind of reactions other than gastronomic happiness.
Wanted to tell Jeff about everything that had happened now, more than I had before, but this was absolutely not the time or place to mention Clarence and his mystery package, assassins lurking about, the return of Colonel Hamlin, or the disappearance of Hamlin and Buchanan. None of them were the likely murderers, either, though Clarence would have had the best shot of getting inside without being spotted. But why would he want to kill Reyes?