Alien in Chief

by Gini Koch

  “Kitty, I think it’s a terrible idea for you to take Jamie and Charlie on this trip,” she said for, by my count, the fifteenth time, while Ben Kweller sang “Family Tree” as backup.

  “Vince wants us to do a family dog and pony show.”

  “I don’t care what the President wants. The last time you all went somewhere on a mission, you were dragged into another solar system. And considering what happened to Charles, and what almost happened to Jamie, there is no good reason to put not one but both of your children into similar danger.”

  “I don’t think the Planetary Council is dropping by to try to kidnap my kids.”

  “Prove it.” Denise rarely looked as stern as she did right now.

  “Ah . . . can’t.”

  “Exactly.”

  “They can steal the kids from here, you know. They stole us all that way for Operation Civil War.”

  “I realize that. However, Walter, William, and I have been working on the problem since all of you were taken.” Walter Ward was the Head of Embassy Security and his older brother, William, was the Head of Security Worldwide, based out of the main A-C facility, the Dulce Science Center. That they were working on this issue wasn’t a surprise. “In fact, we’ve been working with the Security heads at all the Bases worldwide. I think Missy from Australia has the best fix.”

  “Missy?” This was a new one.

  “Melissa Gunnels. She handles Sydney Base. I know you met her when you were there.”

  Oh, right. I had at least interacted with Melissa during Operation Bizarro World. She hadn’t liked me enough to share her nickname with me. Oh well, I’d have to find the will to go on somehow. “What’s she come up with?”

  “A new way to lock our bases back down, so that no one can get in or get our people out unless we want them to.”

  In the olden days of just a couple years ago, this had been a given. All the Bases and external A-C housing had shields that prevented us from being blown up or from enemies entering once said shields were activated. Events had shown that our enemies, and our friends as well, had found ways around these safeguards.

  Not that we all hadn’t been concerned about beefing up security, but after a few months of relative calm that issue had moved to the back burner for most of us. Jeff and I had been getting ready for Charlie’s arrival, we were busy with our day-to-day jobs, everyone else had lives they were enjoying, and all that jazz. But it was nice to know that some of our folks hadn’t given up the good fight, so to speak.

  “Does it work?” I had to ask. A plan and an actionable plan were two different things.

  “So far, yes.” Denise heaved a sigh. “And even if it didn’t, you should not be bringing the children into what could be a coup, an attack, or worse.”

  As the music changed to Sugar Ray’s “Fly,” a car flew up in the air, swooped around Denise’s head, and landed on my shoulder. Was pretty sure that Charlie was exercising his sense of humor.

  She and I looked at each other. “And . . . there’s also . . . that.” I removed the car and looked around. Charlie was sitting on Amy’s lap, grinning at me.

  “We’ve managed to keep Charlie’s talents hidden, but if you bring him along on this trip, I can only foresee a lot of negative press.” Denise took the car from me, turned, and handed it back to Ezra. “Charlie, that will be enough of that. Stop showing off for your mother—she’s very impressed by you already.”

  Charlie gurgled at her, but nothing else floated or flew.

  “I’m looking forward to the trip,” Amy said.

  “No, you’re not,” Denise countered. “You shouldn’t be going any more than the children.” Amy opened her mouth to protest and Denise put her hand up. “You’re eight months pregnant. That means that the baby can show up any time. And it is insane to head into what could be an action situation in your condition. I’ll have Doctor Hernandez lock you down on bedrest if you try to go. And, trust me, he’ll do it.”

  Amy closed her mouth and grimaced. “I hate it when someone makes a logical point that goes completely against what I want to do.” She heaved a sigh. “But you’re right. I don’t want to do anything that puts . . . Becky at risk. I’ll stay home, Denise. I promise.”

  Denise shot me a look that literally dared me to keep on arguing. However, I knew when I was beaten. I was rarely beaten, but in this case, I was ready to wave the white flag, preferably without Charlie’s assistance.

  “You win. I’ll talk to Jeff about it. Ames, I’ll wager that Christopher will be relieved that you’re staying home.”

  “I think he will be, yeah.”

  “I’ve already explained to Kevin that the children will not be going,” Denise added. “And neither will he.”

  “Wow, I get Amy and the kids being grounded, but why Kevin?”

  “Because he’s the Defense Attaché of this Embassy and in everyone else’s absence we need the protection.”

  “Cannot argue with that logic. Mostly because I figure you’ll just keep on giving me the Mother Superior look you’ve clearly been practicing and I’ll lose.”

  Denise grinned. Like her husband and children, she had great teeth and a killer smile. “Just need to make sure you see reason.”

  “Fine, fine, you win.” Realistically, Denise was right. Besides, with the kids safely at home, Jeff and I might be able to fit in some sexy times on the train. So a win-win all the way around.

  Before I could say anything else, like ask her who else she wanted to stay at home, my phone beeped and I pulled it out of my back pocket. I had a text from an unknown number.

  Meet me on the Embassy roof right now. Come alone.

  CHAPTER 13

  THERE WERE ONLY a handful of people who liked to hold meetings on my roof, and all of them were trained assassins. And when the trained assassins who’ve got your back tell you to go to the roof, you go to the roof.

  “Denise, as I said, you win. I need to take care of some things, like starting to figure out how to tell Jeff you’ve won and how Kevin isn’t going and all that, so I’m going to leave you, Amy, and the kids and get back to this business we call show.”

  “I’ll give you that politics is a lot like acting,” Denise said with a laugh, as Coldplay’s “Trouble” came on. “I plan to have agents here while you’re gone, so it won’t be just Kevin, but he’s staying, and if you can convince any of the others to stay, that would be good, too.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll do what I can. Though I think that you’re going to have the best success with that, Mother Superior, so feel free to give that look to whomever you think needs to stay and just keep me advised.”

  With that, I gave Jamie and Charlie quick kisses, then trotted out of the daycare center and to the stairs.

  Used hyperspeed to get up onto the roof. Telling no one I was going up here wasn’t a problem—Walter monitored all the public areas of the Embassy, and while the likelihood that he already knew we had rooftop visitors was slim because they were the best of the best, the chance that he’d see me go out onto the roof was high. And any time I could go somewhere without the Secret Service tagging along I went for it, and an anonymous text telling me to come alone was a good reason to continue ditching them. At least in my opinion.

  Of course, with someone imitating Huntress on the loose, it wasn’t the smartest move to come up here by myself, since the text could be from her. However, my experience was that the people really trying to kill me liked to call me and make it all really personal.

  Not that I was worried, even if Walter wasn’t paying attention to my whereabouts. Maybe I should have been, but when you get “adopted” by the best international assassins in the world, and then bond with the guy who was right up there with them, it takes a certain edge off.

  Unsurprisingly, I appeared to be alone on the roof. Scanned the sky just in case there was a drone or something heading fo
r me, but it was a beautiful May afternoon and the skies were clear.

  Scanned the neighboring rooftops, as I searched all of ours. Wasn’t positive, but had a feeling we had someone on the roof of the Zoo and across the street on top of the Romanian embassy. Found no one on our roof.

  Would have figured I was being punked in some way, but my life didn’t roll like that. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I said softly, as I stood behind the doorway area that created a natural shield from most views.

  “Well, if you insist,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

  As I jumped like a cat on a hot tin roof, Siler appeared or de-cloaked or whatever he called it. But he wasn’t alone.

  There was a young girl who I put at around fourteen or fifteen standing there with him. He was in black jeans and a turtleneck, she was in blue jeans, a vintage Ramones t-shirt, and had a messenger bag slung over her neck, with a jeans jacket folded over the bag. They were both in what looked like comfortable hiking boots. They were both also grinning at me.

  “That blending thing of yours is a real pain, Nightcrawler.”

  He laughed. “We like to keep you on your toes. Your ‘uncles’ are very proud of you for checking the skies and the rooftops.”

  “Which one of them is on the Zoo and which one is covering Romania?”

  “The Dingo always takes the higher ground.”

  “Nice to know he wants to visit the alien animals. So,” I looked at the girl with him, “who’s this?”

  “My daughter.”

  I did a fast comparison. Siler was between Jeff and Christopher in height, so around six feet, reasonably attractive, with olive skin and dark hair and eyes. The girl, however, was fair skinned, with dirty blonde hair, gray eyes, and a slighter build. She was a cute girl, but didn’t look a thing like Siler. Examined their features—none were alike.

  If an A-C mated with a human, human genetics tended to rule the external while A-C genes ruled the internal. Siler had been enhanced in weird ways by his fab parental units, but even so, he was only half alien, meaning that if this girl was his daughter, there should be some resemblance. And, other than in confidence, I saw none.

  “Pull the other one, it has bells on.”

  The girl’s eyes narrowed. “She’s adopted,” he said. She sidled just a little closer to him.

  My eyebrow raised. “Really? You just felt the paternal tug and couldn’t let it go?”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “She had parents . . . something like mine.”

  “Oh. Wow. I’m really sorry to hear that. I’m not going to ask. Well, not right now. I’m sure I’m going to ask later. But for now, we’ll pretend I’m going to let all the story that has to be behind that go. And instead, I’m going to say, it’s nice to see you and your nameless daughter, but why are you both here? I know why you’re here, Nightcrawler—Malcolm called you. But why is your teenaged daughter along for the ride? Training mission?”

  The girl looked like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or hate me. Siler, however, hugged her, let go, and chuckled. “Lizzie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about, Katherine Katt-Martini. Kitty, this is my adopted daughter, Elizabeth. She goes by Lizzie.”

  “Happy hellos later. Why is Lizzie here with you? Seriously, I think she’s a little young to embrace the assassination lifestyle.”

  He sighed. “I normally have her in boarding school when I’m on assignment. However, there are some . . . issues . . .”

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. “I kicked a couple of bullies’ butts and Mister Dash thinks it’s a good time for me to lie low in case their parents decide to try to enact revenge while he’s not around to . . . handle that.”

  “What kind of bullies?”

  “The kind that pick on kids littler, weaker, smarter, or different from them. Why?”

  “Just wanted to enjoy the Full Kindred Spirit Experience. Okay, so you want to, what, leave Lizzie here for babysitting?” I asked Siler. “And, Mister Dash? Really?”

  “All the women in my life like to give me weird nicknames, what can I say?”

  “I’m flattered to make the cut. Anyway, I’m certain Malcolm told you what was going on.”

  “Yes. I’m also aware that the woman who handles Embassy Daycare rightly wants all your children to remain here. I’d like Lizzie to remain here, too. She can help out.”

  Lizzie’s expression said that helping watch a bunch of little kids wasn’t high on her Impromptu Spring Break To Do List. Honestly couldn’t blame her.

  “Are you cool with that plan?” I asked her, while I actively refrained from asking Siler just how he knew Denise didn’t want the kids to go to NASA Base.

  She shrugged. “Quick Girl does what Mister Dash needs. So, right now he needs to know I’m safe, so, yeah, I’m good with the plan.”

  “How old are you, ah, Quick Girl?”

  “Fourteen going on fifteen. Perfect babysitting age,” she added, sarcasm knob at least an eight on a scale of ten. Had a feeling she was going to flip well past eleven without even trying. “And you don’t need to call me Quick Girl. Since we’re incognito here and all that.”

  “Oh, need has nothing to do with it. Okay, so, what else does your Mini-Me have going on that makes her someone you want to leave here, versus someone you want traveling with me?”

  “She’s fluent in eight languages and six forms of martial arts, competent in surveillance, and quite good at moving without being seen or heard,” Siler said.

  “I also get straight As, can do arts and crafts, know how to play a lot of sports and am particularly good at lacrosse, and know CPR,” Lizzie added. “I normally charge twenty dollars an hour for babysitting services because I don’t like doing it, but for you I’ll make a special deal.”

  I managed to control the Inner Hyena and only snorted a laugh. “Got it. We weren’t advertising for an au pair or nanny.”

  “I know. I want Lizzie here so I don’t have to worry about her and so you have one more competent protector watching your home and children.”

  “And he’s really afraid that there’s going to be retaliation, but if they find out I’m here there’s no way they’re going to start something with American Centaurion,” Lizzie added, sounding as if she’d have preferred to face the retaliation head on.

  “Who is the ‘they’ whose offspring you taught lessons to?”

  Siler and Lizzie exchanged a glance. “Ah,” she said as she looked back at me, “It’s classified.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “I’LL BET IT IS. Here’s the thing—I either know who might decide that they want to mess with American Centaurion based on what they apparently might feel is a really good reason or you go elsewhere.”

  Siler sighed. “Fine. The offspring of several prominent captains of industry, politicians, and heads of state.”

  “Names?”

  He gave me a long look. “Classified.”

  Thought about it. And then considered what assassins did to those who threatened their families. There was probably a really good reason Siler didn’t want to name names, starting with plausible deniability. Decided this would become Buchanan’s problem, because I was all about delegating the hard stuff.

  “Okey dokey. So, are we sharing that Lizzie is your daughter or are we playing pretend?”

  “We’re on the roof for a reason,” Lizzie said, sarcasm meter definitely heading for eleven.

  “Kiddo, in my experience, your dad and the men I presume you also get to think of as uncles meet on rooftops like other people meet in internet chat rooms. This location no more says ‘introduce the kid in a clandestine fashion’ than if you’d come in through the front door.”

  She grinned. “You’ve got a point.”

  “Introduce her as Elizabeth Vrabel,” Siler said. “Because obviously I don’t use my real name ninety-ni
ne percent of the time, in part because I didn’t want my parents to find me and still don’t want their cronies able to hunt me down. All of Lizzie’s paperwork says Vrabel, not Jackson.”

  “Because you don’t want her parents or their cronies to find her, either, right?”

  “Her parents can’t find her anymore. I took care of that. Long ago.”

  “Three years, give or take,” Lizzie added quietly. “They were—”

  “Doing terrible things,” Siler interrupted. Lizzie shut her mouth quickly. Interesting. Another story I’d have to get when Siler wasn’t around, apparently. “Anyway, I’d appreciate you letting Lizzie stay here while I’m off on assignment.”

  “For us. Yeah, quid pro quo and all that Latin jazz. I’m sure Denise will appreciate the help. Lizzie, what’s your status on following rules, staying inside the Embassy, things like that? As in, if someone isn’t watching you twenty-four-seven are we going to have to worry about you disappearing, sneaking out, or similar?”

  She gave me a long look. “Mister Dash wants me to stay in the Embassy. So I’m staying in the Embassy unless there’s a compelling reason to leave it. And by compelling reason, I mean life or death, safety of others, and so forth.”

  Decided I’d tell Walter to keep a couple of extra eyes on Lizzie, just in case. She might not be lying to me, but since Jeff wasn’t up here on the roof to tell me one way or the other, had to figure that she was going to be a typical teenager and try to get away with whatever she could the moment Siler wasn’t around.

  “Works for me. So, Nightcrawler, are my ‘uncles’ going to come by and say hi, or are we under attack and I just don’t know about it?”

  “They’re on guard because you have a Huntress problem.”

  “See, this is why you’re my favorite—you get with the program and I don’t even have to ask you to or tell you the other code names, you just know.” Meaning our Embassy was probably bugged by the Assassination Squad. I’d decide if I wanted us to try to find those bugs or not. Later. “Yeah, Cleary thinks it’s Stephanie. Chuckie’s not so sure, but we’ve done some tests and it could be. What does the Assassination Squad all think?”