by Gini Koch
“Ambassador,” Whitmore said, “are you sure you’re not requesting the P.T.C.U. simply because you want your mother to come and fix everything for you?”
The jaws of all the men in the room dropped. Yeah, I was also impressed with Whitmore’s balls or lunacy, take your pick. Unfortunately for him, I knew a lot about him, potentially more than he realized, and I got this kind of crap from Hacker International all the time.
“Secretary Whitmore, while I’m fully aware that you have a host of unresolved and subjugated Mommy Issues, I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not. That my mother happens to be the most competent woman—and potentially the most competent staff member, period—that the President has working for him is something I’m quite proud of. That you’re clearly intimidated by strong women says much more about your character, or lack thereof, than anything about either me or my mother.”
“I beg your pardon—” Whitmore started angrily.
“My pardon for your insult is not given, Secretary Whitmore. In fact, I expect an apology, immediately. Or I’m afraid I’m going to have to take your insinuations as an unfriendly act.”
Jeff was grinning. Chuckie looked amused in the way he always did when I was doing exactly what he expected and wanted me to do. Cliff looked impressed. Hoped Mom shared their opinions. Oliver, of course, looked like he was holding a winning lottery ticket.
“Apologize. Now.” The President didn’t sound like he was asking.
“I apologize, Ambassador, for my careless and thoughtless remarks.” Whitmore sounded like his teeth were clenched. Figured they probably were.
“We’ll have a full team from the P.T.C.U. over to you in just a few minutes, Ambassador,” the President said. “Including the Head of the Unit. Again, we want to stress that the United States government neither ordered nor condones any attacks on anyone attached to American Centaurion or Centaurion Division or those who work closely with Centaurion.”
“We feel confident that you, Mister President, along with Colonel Franklin and the P.T.C.U., are working for and with us. And thank you for your support.”
“We’ll be to you shortly, Ambassador,” Mom said.
“We’ll be waiting.”
We both hung up.
Jeff was still grinning. “I told you you’d be great at this job.”
“It’s growing on me, I have to admit.”
“Well,” Cliff said. “That was . . . the most high-powered call I’ve ever been a part of. I really hope I have a job tomorrow.”
“You will. Or else I’ll get that Unfriendly Act Feeling again.”
Cliff shook his head. “I’m amazed Secretary Whitmore was that aggressive with you, especially in that setting. You handled it really well.”
I shrugged. “As Wolverine would say, ‘These claws? They’re adamantium, bub. I only pull ’em out for show. Or, you know, to stick ’em in someone who bothers me.’ And Whitmore bothers me.”
Chuckie laughed. “And the lesson is, as it always is—never, ever piss off the comics-geek girl.”
CHAPTER 71
WE SENT SOME TEXTS and made some calls, so everyone who needed to know was aware of where we were and who we were waiting for.
“How’d you know this was Jeff’s office?” Cliff asked once we were all done and still sitting around, waiting for Mom and her team to get here. “I thought you hadn’t gone into it earlier today.”
Cliff’s car had been blown to bits, which meant he was probably out of contention for being the Mastermind, but was definitely in contention for being yet another person in deadly danger. I looked at Chuckie, who shrugged and looked at Jeff, who concentrated. He shrugged. “I think it’s okay.”
“What’s okay?” Cliff asked.
“To tell you what we think is going on,” I said.
Cliff put up his hand. “Don’t.”
“Huh? Why not? You’re obviously in danger.”
“Yes, and I’m not saying don’t protect me. But everything Chuck’s told me about how you guys operate means that you’re going to be doing things that are, let’s be honest, not always within the confines of the law.”
Cliff had a point. Jeff and I had searched every office of every dead representative earlier in the day. That was definitely not within the confines of the law. “Maybe. So?”
He shook his head. “So, my job is to keep you guys safe and in line. If you tell me, for example, that you broke into another Embassy to search it for clues, that’s a great thing if it saves the day. But it’s an illegal thing in every other way. And I’m duty-bound to report that, because that’s one of the tenets of my job. Sure I could lie, but I’m not a great liar in the first place, and I don’t want to have to lie in the second place.”
“Chuckie, um, lies. When he has to.”
Cliff laughed and gave Chuckie a gentle, friendly punch in the arm. “Chuck’s C.I.A. They’re supposed to lie. It’s pretty much a job requirement.”
“Oh, we occasionally tell the truth,” Chuckie said.
“Just to keep the rest of us guessing,” Cliff replied with a grin. Then he turned back to me. “So, do not tell me what you’re doing, what you’re thinking, and what you’re going to do. That way, I have complete deniability, can pass a lie detector test without worry, and you get to keep your positions and hopefully save the day. Everybody wins.”
“You’re sure? You don’t even want to know the high-level theories?”
“Not a one. I trust you guys. Because I know Chuck, and I trust his judgment, and he trusts all of you. I know you’re always going to do the right things for the right reasons. I don’t want the responsibility of knowing specifics or even generalities, though, unless I’m the last resort. So, until I’m the last resort, keep me out of it, so I can say with complete honesty that, as far as I know, you’re being the best boys and girls in the world and not even thinking about putting one little toe out of line.”
“Okay, you got it,” I said as there was a knock at the door.
Chuckie put his hand up as Jeff moved to get it. “My job.” He stood, pulled his gun, and opened the door carefully. “Hi, Angela,” he said as he opened the door and holstered his weapon. “Good to see you.”
“Good to be seen.” Mom strode in. She was alone.
“Where’s the rest of your team?”
“Arresting the press. You’re going to suffer some nasty attacks for that, by the way.”
I shrugged. “And yet, I’ll find the will to go on. Besides, Mister Joel Oliver here has the exclusive of exclusives. They’ll hate him more.”
“Too true,” Oliver said.
Mom heaved a sigh. “You were in the room while that conversation was going on?” Oliver nodded. Mom looked at me. She didn’t look pleased. “And you didn’t say anything?”
Hoped I wasn’t going to get grounded. I was almost thirty, married, with my own child, and an ambassador, but my mother could probably still ground me if she really wanted to. “Nope.”
Mom grinned. “That’s my girl.” She hugged me and it was her breath-stopping bear hug. “Glad you’re okay, kitten.”
“Me too, Mom. Thanks for coming. Whitmore was right—I did want my mother to come and make things better.”
She kissed my cheek. “He’s a prick. And he’s now your enemy. Remember that.”
“I’ve never actually thought he was my friend.”
“But your allegiances are already shifting,” Mom reminded me. “And they’ll continue to do so the longer you and Jeff are working in D.C. However, no matter what he does or says, that man is your enemy for life now. You humiliated him and threatened to out him to the entire Cabinet and the President and you did it in such a way that he had to apologize to you. He will never forget or forgive that, so you need to always remember that he’s not on your side.”
“Got it, I won’t forget. You want our statements?”
“At the Embassy. I want to get all of you out of here.” She looked around. “Nice office, Jeff. Get a gate in here
pronto.”
“Already asked James for that, Mom, we’re actually ahead of you. Not far ahead, I’m sure, but still, a half-step at least.”
Mom rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything. She just ushered us out and down the hall. We took the stairs, Mom going first, Chuckie at the rear.
Exited to find a set of big, black Escalades with tinted windows waiting for us. The six of us got into one, Mom driving, Chuckie taking shotgun. The cars in front and behind ours pulled out when Mom did and they drove in formation all the way to the Embassy.
No one shot at us and, as near as I could tell, no one followed us, either. “Cliff, are you coming back to the Embassy with us?”
“I don’t know. Angela, what do you think?”
“I think I want you in some form of protective custody. We can assign operatives to you, as can Centaurion Division, if you’d prefer to stay at home.”
“I think I would,” Cliff said. He looked at me. “You know why.” I nodded; he’d made his position clear.
“I’m going to take them home first,” Mom said. “Then we’ll get a team assigned to you at the Embassy.”
Jeff had his phone out. “I’ve sent a text to James. He’ll have two Field teams waiting to go with your team and escort Cliff home.”
“Thanks,” Cliff said. “I’d say I don’t want to be a bother, but I’m glad to have the protection. I just don’t understand why someone wanted to blow up my car, presumably with me in it.”
I patted his hand. “That, I promise, we’re going to find out.”
CHAPTER 72
CHRISTMAS WAS IN TWO DAYS, meaning Jamie’s birthday was in two days. I wanted to get this entire Operation, whatever it was, put to bed before then. Just wasn’t sure we were going to manage it.
Once Cliff was bundled off, those of us who were muddy changed clothes, the men into yet another version of the Armani Fatigues, even Oliver. The Elves provided me with a black velour sweatsuit. Chose not to argue and hoped they’d learned their lesson about putting me into white.
Then we had a quick meeting, because Reader had recalled our other teams immediately once Cliff’s car had exploded. Unfortunately, no one had anything good to report, other than the fact that Dulce was confident they were going to be able to figure out what would cure Buchanan before the year was over.
“I think we all just need to rest,” Gower said once everyone’s reports of the nothing they’d found were complete. “We’ve been on edge and running for the past few days, and it’s taking its toll.”
“I agree,” Jeff said. “Reynolds, I want you staying in the Embassy.”
“Why?” Chuckie asked.
“Because if someone’s after Cliff, then there’s a good chance that same someone will be after you,” I replied. “Let’s keep as many of our people in A-C shielded facilities as we can.”
Chuckie shrugged. “Fine. I’ll have Kevin bring everyone back.”
Dad and Jamie came to the Embassy along with everyone else who’d been over at the Pontifex’s Residence. “I’m going to stay in your guest room, if that’s okay,” Dad said after Jeff and I got our hugs and kisses from our little girl and Reader and Gower gave up suggesting that she was safer at their home.
“That’s good with us, Dad.” Hey, the rooms were very soundproofed here. “Where is Mom going to be?”
“Working. The President is taking that car bomb very seriously. So, if she’s able to come back to sleep, she’ll come here, but I wouldn’t count on it, kitten.”
“No problem, Dad. We’re heading to full house territory, and who knows how many more unexpected guests we’ll have before this is all through.”
Speaking of our most unexpected guests, Rahmi and Rhee were thrilled to meet Jamie, happy to meet Denise and the Gower girls, pleasant enough to the other children, polite and stately to “the husband of the triumphant warrior who shaped the Great Kitty Katt” and, unsurprisingly, rude to Kevin.
Kevin, however, took it in stride. He gave the princesses a formal bow. “Your Highnesses, I’m Kevin Lewis, the Defense Attaché for the American Centaurion Embassy.”
Whatever the official title was for Our Guy In Charge of Fighting, those who made fighting their way of life always seemed able to recognize it. Both girls gave Kevin more attention than they’d given any man they’d met yet. Sure, he was tall, very dark, and even more handsome, but I doubted either Rahmi or Rhee was looking to make Denise’s marriage rocky. So far as their mother, the other Planetary Council members, and the A-Cs had told me, the Free Women had pretty much done away with men. I was fairly sure they procreated by way of a cloning process of some kind.
Rahmi inclined her head. “You are the one who vanquished the Leader of the Resistance? We had understood it was the Great Tito’s victory.”
We all stared at her. I recovered quickest. “Ah, no. My husband, Jeff, was the one who, ah, vanquished Kyrellis. I vanquished Moira.”
Rhee shook her head. “My sister means he who destroyed the would-be usurper to the Alpha Four throne.”
Had to take a couple moments to figure this one out. “Oh. You mean Gregory from Alpha Four?”
“Yes.” Rahmi looked at Kevin. “You did not vanquish the Leader?”
“No, your Highness, I did not. That was indeed the, ah, Great Tito’s doing.”
“Then why did the Great Tito allow you the position of Defense Attaché?” Rhee asked Kevin politely.
“Ah . . .” Kevin looked at me, clearly asking for diplomatic help.
“What did your mother tell you about my mother?” I asked the girls.
“Mother said that your mother trained you and molded you into the triumphant warrior you are,” Rahmi said with enthusiasm. “She said your mother was worthy to be a leader of the Free Women. And you as well,” she added quickly.
I doubted Renata had felt I had real Amazonian Leadership Potential, but I decided not to question Rahmi’s honesty, since she was doing her best to look innocent, and no one I’d ever met from the Alpha Centaurion system could lie very well to humans.
“Well, my mother recommended Kevin for the position he holds within our Embassy. She molded and trained him, too.”
“Oh!” both princesses chorused. They also both looked at Kevin with much more interest and admiration than they had before. He wasn’t getting full-on hero worship from them, but at least he was no longer a loser to be tolerated. Chose to put that into the win column.
It was past dinnertime, but most of us hadn’t eaten. Pierre and the Elves whipped up a nice, easy dinner while we all headed to the group dining room on the second floor. Tito and Nurse Carter, however, requested to have food sent down—neither one of them was willing to leave Buchanan unattended.
When Rahmi and Rhee offered to take the food to the Great Tito, though, I knew something had to be done. Looked at White, who smiled at me and nodded. “I’ll take the food down to the infirmary, Missus Martini. And I’ll keep Magdalena company and send the Great Tito up to have dinner with all of you.”
This offer earned White looks of appreciation from the princesses. He took trays down as Pierre started to get food onto the table, with Denise, Abigail, and Amy’s help, and the rest of us milled around and tried to stay out of their way.
Naomi did this by being on her phone talking to people about her wedding—from her attitude and tone of voice, I presumed she was talking to those who helped create weddings, as opposed to guests. At least I hoped she wasn’t snarling at guests and telling them she didn’t care about difficulty levels, money was no object, and to do what she wanted or suffer the consequences. Wasn’t sure whose money she meant, but A-C tradition said that the groom’s side paid for pretty much everything. Also wasn’t sure I liked her spending Chuckie’s money without care, but had to figure he’d told her to do it.
Tito arrived right after Naomi hung up on someone I particularly felt for in terms of her snarling attitude. I was happy for the distraction. Tito was wearing a suit. I knew he hadn’t been wear
ing one in the infirmary, so White had clearly impressed upon him that he had the most rabid of fans in the dining room. Because he lived in an A-C facility, this meant he was in the typical Armani Fatigues.
“You wanted me to join all of you for dinner, Kitty?” Tito sounded tired and just a tad annoyed. Hoped he wouldn’t follow Naomi’s lead and turn nasty because I didn’t think I was up to it.
“Yes. We have visitors from Beta Twelve, Queen Renata’s daughters, Princesses Rahmi and Rhee,” I indicated which was which. “They wanted very much to meet you. Princesses, may I present the Great Tito.”
Tito shot me the “you so crazy” look. So maybe White had only told Tito he was needed and to dress up. Which, knowing White’s sense of humor, was likely. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highnesses,” he said, putting out his hand.
Rahmi grabbed it and shook it vigorously. I got the impression hand shaking wasn’t something normally done on Beta Twelve and that she’d learned how to do this from the same source she’d used to pick her “disguise.”
“I am so honored to meet you,” she said breathlessly.
Rhee shoved in and literally grabbed Tito’s hand out of her sister’s so she could shake it as well. “Me too! I’m at least as honored as Rahmi. Maybe more.”
Tito looked confused but he rallied as he carefully extracted his hand. “I’m honored to meet the two of you as well. I hope your mother’s well?”
“Oh, yes,” Rahmi said. “Mother’s fine. Would you do us the honor of sitting with us for this meal?”
Tito looked around the room. “Seriously, you guys, this is a bad time to pull a practical joke, don’t you think?”
Every man in the room, my dad included, shook their heads vigorously. Jeff, Chuckie, and Christopher, who were all standing behind the princesses, each made his own version of the Stop/Cut/Shut Up/Kill Gesture.
Rahmi and Rhee looked crushed. “We didn’t mean to offend,” Rhee said in a whisper.
“Girls, the Great Tito did not mean it that way,” I said quickly. “We try not to put one warrior above the others here, and the Great Tito is very modest and humble. He’s not offended by your total and complete hero worship that has clearly been encouraged by your mother. He actually is modest, unlike me, so he’s a little embarrassed and is thinking we’ve asked you to tell him he’s great as a way of friendly, teasing camaraderie.”