Alien in Chief

by Gini Koch

  It was a viable option, but one that would take time. “She’ll be able to shoot one or both of us if we try,” I said, as we scurried around to the other side of the tree again and I wondered where the hell Jeff was.

  Huntress got tired of going in a circle and drove up onto the grass, blocking us between her motorcycle and the tree. She leveled the bow, but not at me. She was aiming for Cliff’s heart.

  I readied myself to pull him down, fast, when someone slammed into us and suddenly we were far away. I looked up expecting to see Jeff, but instead saw White. “Great timing,” I said as we zipped up Massachusetts Avenue, aka Embassy Row.

  “It’s luck. I happened to look out the window at the right time. I’d inquire as to what the two of you were doing outside, but I’m sure it’s a reason that makes no sense.”

  “Kitty was feeling stir crazy,” Cliff gasped out. “I’d dropped by and figured I could keep her safe and let her have a little time-out. I was wrong and I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m an idiot.”

  “Hardly. But she must have followed you, Cliff. She was aiming for you.” Of course, during Operation Sherlock, Cliff had had his own brand new car blown up for the sole purpose of making us think the bad guys were after him. It wasn’t beyond him to have done the same now. Only . . . he’d looked terrified. Truly terrified. Ready to die and not wanting to terrified.

  We turned left and followed Waterside Drive back toward our section of the Row. Got off the street behind our property. White and I could have scaled the fence, but there was no way Cliff could do it, and no way I could do it if I wanted to keep Cliff in the dark about my A-C abilities.

  White stopped and I caught my breath while Cliff had the standard human reaction to hyperspeed—he threw up. Tried not to enjoy it a little. Failed.

  “I think we need protection on Cliff.”

  “I think we need to get Mister Goodman somewhere safe,” White agreed. “However I’m not convinced our Embassy is that place anymore.”

  “Not sure my place is safe, either,” Cliff retched out.

  “Protective custody? The police will absolutely do that for you.”

  Cliff stood up and shook his head. He was shaking. Did what I would have before I knew who he really was—took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back, and gave me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Kitty. I don’t know how you guys do the action stuff all the time. It’s not fun at all.” He shuddered. “Neither is having someone pointing a deadly weapon at you with clear intent to kill. You guys are all a lot braver than I am, I guess.”

  “You get used to it.”

  “Really?”

  “No, I’m lying. You really don’t. Some of us have fight, some of us have flight, Cliff. That’s all it is.”

  “I suppose.” He heaved a sigh. “So, do we go to the Embassy and get bawled out, or do I go to the police?”

  White looked thoughtful. “Honestly . . . if you feel safe enough, I’d say the police. They have no leads on this would-be killer, and you’re a prominent person in town. You’ll have top protection, and what you saw could help them.”

  “We have nothing, too, so it’s not like we’ve got more than the police. But will Cliff be safe with just humans guarding him? If you hadn’t come when you did, Richard, both of us might be dead.”

  “We’ll assign some Field teams to protect you as well,” White said. “If you’ll allow it.”

  “I normally say no, but this time? This time I’ll gladly take the protection, Richard, thank you.”

  “Then, prepare your stomach, Clifford—we’re about to go fast again.”

  We zipped off and went to the D.C.P.D. location where the K-9 squad was based. Gave our stories, which didn’t take all that long because there wasn’t much to tell. More units were assigned to Embassy Row, Cliff was put under protection, and three Field teams arrived before we were ready to leave.

  Hoped that the six agents and the cops wouldn’t get hurt, either by Huntress or one of Cliff’s people.

  We were offered a ride home, but White and I passed. Instead, we used good ol’ hyperspeed—this time with me providing the speed and White providing the navigation and steering—and headed back to the Embassy.

  We got inside and I was prepared for questions and a lot of shouting. But no one was waiting for us.

  “Where’s Jeff?”

  “I have no idea,” White said. “Truly, I looked out the window at the right time.”

  “Huh. I was sending mental and emotional signals. Good ones, too. I was sure of it.”

  Heard the sound of running feet and all of a sudden Jeff was there, looking freaked out. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you two so stressed?”

  White and I looked at each other. “Mister Goodman must have been wearing a particularly strong emotional blocker,” White said.

  “Yeah, that’s the only thing that makes sense.” We filled Jeff in, fast, on what had just transpired.

  When we were done he didn’t bawl me out. “That was honestly good, quick thinking, baby. And Richard’s right—Cliff must have been wearing a blocker of incredible power, because I got nothing from you at all.” He hugged me. “And you could have been killed.”

  Hugged him back. “No. I’d have used hyperspeed before I let her kill me. Or, sadly, him. I’m just glad Richard was there.”

  “So, you really think he wasn’t faking it?” Jeff asked.

  “Well, without empathic confirmation, I have no way of being a hundred percent sure. But he looked and acted totally terrified. And I’ve seen him for a long time now—this is the first real fear I’ve ever seen Cliff show.”

  “We’ll discuss it with Charles,” White said. “And get his impressions. For now, however, I think we work under a new assumption—that whoever this Huntress is, she’s after our allies. Because Cliff is identified as such.”

  “Maybe. But there’s another possibility.”

  “What?” Jeff asked.

  “She could be after us and our allies and after Cliff. For two entirely different revenge reasons.”

  “You think your Huntress is Stephanie?” Jeff asked sadly.

  “More and more each day, yeah, I do. She’s had time to learn to drive and the Yates blood is, let’s face it, strong in your family, Jeff. But, as we say in Pueblo Caliente, that’s a cactus spine for another day.”

  “Do you really say that where you come from?” White asked, sounding mildly surprised.

  “Well, I do. As always, I can’t speak for anyone else.”

  White chuckled. “You can, and do. But as we say, that’s a fight I’m not willing to have right now.”

  “Wise man once again proves his wisdom.”

  CHAPTER 18

  THE REST OF THE afternoon and early evening were uneventful, besides filling Chuckie in on what had transpired and then being forced to make him take his migraine meds and a nap.

  Dinner was a group affair, because Pierre insisted that Lizzie needed to meet everyone and that would be the easiest way to ensure I hadn’t missed any introductions. For whatever reason, Jeff had asked for Men At Work’s “Cargo” album, so that was our background music. I liked it, so didn’t argue.

  Denise took the time during dinner to give me a list of who she felt should stay at the Embassy. “I already ran this by Doreen, and she agrees. I also ran it by the Secret Service, and they agree as well, though they’d like more names on the list.”

  “I’m sure they would, but we’ll go with whatever you two want. But you two also get to be the ones who have the fights with everyone you want to keep here.”

  In addition to the kids and Amy, Denise and Doreen wanted to keep Pierre, Tito, and Nurse Carter home. Keeping our medical staff in the Embassy made sense, especially since Amy was in her eighth month of pregnancy with a hybrid baby.

  Nurse Carter wasn’t big on getti
ng into the action, and White rarely tried to take her along on missions anyway. White was definitely on our list of those going down to Florida, and not only because he’d been the former Supreme Pontifex—he was the best diplomat we had other than Doreen, though he constantly tried to deny it. He was also my unofficial partner whenever butt-kicking took place and, as earlier events had shown, quite good at it.

  Also, as Christopher’s father, Jeff and Gower’s uncle, and someone both the A-Cs and the Planetary Council would listen to, he was vital to any political cause we had.

  The problem with our not taking Tito along, however, was that this meant we wouldn’t be taking Rahmi and Rhee. And I knew we’d need them, even if Tito hadn’t already hinted that they were bored.

  Tito and Rahmi had gotten engaged at the end of Operation Civil War. Based on the majority of our human-alien courtships, they should have been married by now. However, we did have some extremely long engagements—Ravi Gaekwad and Jennifer Barone, for example, who had had a two-year-plus engagement before finally getting married a few months ago in a lavish ceremony. Tito and Rahmi appeared to be trying to break Ravi and Jennifer’s record.

  Not because either one of them were dragging their feet, but because Beta Twelve had two marriage rituals—battlefield joinings, which were incredibly fast, and official matrimony, which wasn’t. They’d foolishly not gotten married when we were on Beta Eight, meaning that they were on the long and winding ritualistic road to the altar.

  That the Free Women from Beta Twelve reproduced via cloning and had done away with men thousands of years ago wasn’t speeding things up, either. Rahmi was possibly the first Free Woman to want to marry a man in hundreds of years, plus she was the eldest of the two princesses, meaning that she technically would inherit the Queenship of Beta Twelve. There were, therefore, alterations that had to be made to the rituals for both the potential for succession and the fact that one of the participants was the “wrong” gender.

  Despite having typical sibling spats the princesses were already pretty inseparable, but some of the rituals were requiring Rhee to never be too far from Rahmi. And Rahmi never wanted to be too far from Tito unless we were in battle. Which meant that we wouldn’t have the princesses with us, and that had a real potential to make the Planetary Council nervous at best.

  Scanned the rest of the suggested Stay At Home list. Hacker International was on it, which wasn’t a surprise. None of them liked to leave the Zoo, let alone the city, and after a short time around them they all bothered Jeff for various reasons. Them clamoring to take the train was unlikely, but they could fight with Denise and Jeff if they desperately wanted to go.

  Decided that the needs of diplomacy were going to outweigh the medical risks. “Tito and the princesses are coming with us,” I said as I handed the list back to Denise. “You can win on all the others, but I need the three of them. Nurse Carter is more than capable of handling the majority of our potential medical emergencies, and Tito can always take a floater gate home if he’s needed urgently.”

  Denise grinned. “Okay, you win.”

  “You put Tito on the list just so I’d focus on him and you’d keep everyone else, didn’t you?”

  “As you like to say, Kitty, whatever works.”

  “I think you’re all learning to be far sneakier than is good for me.”

  As I finished speaking, I got a text from Caroline Chase, my sorority roommate and one of my besties who also happened to work for Senator McMillan.

  “Caro wants to go with us,” I told Jeff. “The Senator can’t go, and not only because he was injured by Huntress, and he’d like her to represent him.”

  Jeff heaved a sigh. “You’re sure it’s Don’s suggestion?”

  “Seems like it. Besides, Caro’s good in these situations. And she needs to get out anyway.” Caroline had been engaged to Michael Gower. Prior to their engagement she’d been someone who’d had no issues playing the field, just like Michael, really. They’d matched up so well, and been so happy, but our enemies had cut that short. Since Michael’s murder, however, Caroline had become far more quiet and withdrawn. Basically, Chuckie wasn’t the only one still mourning the loss of their significant other. Unlike Chuckie, I hadn’t been able to convince her to move into the Embassy.

  I’d have been worried about her being outside of our immediate reach with our Mystery Huntress out there, especially since McMillan had been a target. But since my “uncles” were in town, I figured they were watching over her. The Dingo had actually dated her for a while—when he was first assigned to kill me, not that she’d known he was an assassin at the time—and he still seemed quite fond of her, so Caroline was probably safe. Well, as safe as any of us ever were.

  Chuckie, who was looking much better after today’s nap, took the list out of Denise’s hands and scanned it. “I’m with Kitty—Tito and the princesses need to come. I’d also recommend we bring along Mister Joel Oliver, because I’m pretty sure we’re going to want to ensure that, whatever happens, our side of the story is told.”

  “Makes sense to me,” I said before anyone else could argue. Oliver was the best investigative reporter in the world, but until Operation Destruction he’d been considered a quack conspiracy theorist. He was also a very good friend and someone we could always rely on.

  “That’s good,” Tito said. “Because Doctor Morin isn’t feeling well, and he sent me a text a few minutes ago asking if I could function as the Presidential Physician for this trip. I already said yes, too.”

  Chuckie nodded. “You’re the obvious choice for a variety of reasons. I also want Stryker with us. And Adriana. And, Kitty, if you can convince him, Vance Beaumont.”

  CHAPTER 19

  ALL OF US WITHIN EARSHOT STARED AT HIM.

  “Really?” I asked finally as Jeff groaned quietly and Men at Work’s album ended and “Crazy” from Aerosmith started. Hey, Walter had orders from me and we’d definitely gone more than ten songs without an Aerosmith number.

  Hacker International tended to eat in their computer lab at the Zoo, so none of them were in the dining room with us to whine one way or the other. So, one for the win column. Already had the feeling I’d need to try to frontload the wins as much as possible.

  “Yes. In regard to Stryker, we can’t take Chernobog with us for a variety of reasons, and I want someone with strong hacking abilities along. Just in case.”

  Jeff sighed and shrugged. “Whatever you say, Chuck.” Figured Jeff was just placating Chuckie so that he didn’t have another meltdown, so I didn’t argue and merely nodded.

  “I agree about Adriana,” Len said. Kyle nodded.

  “I do, too.” Adriana was the granddaughter of the Romanian ambassador. The ambassador’s wife, Olga, however, was former KGB. Olga had MS and was confined to a wheelchair, and Adriana was her helper.

  In addition, Olga was literally the All-Seeing Oracle and had been training Adriana in the Old Ways. Adriana had saved my life during Operation Assassination, and she was always a huge asset to our team. Plus Len and Kyle really liked her, and she liked them.

  “She’s cleared,” Joseph, who was the head of Jeff’s Secret Service detail, said. “As is Stryker Dane. Vance Beaumont, however—”

  “Is also cleared,” Buchanan said, in a tone that indicated he had the higher authority, which, considering he was part of the P.T.C.U., he did. “And I agree—he’s got a knowledge base of who’s who, who’s sleeping with whom, who’s fighting with whom, and who is and isn’t friendly to American Centaurion.”

  “Vance isn’t wild about action,” I pointed out.

  “But he’s willing to do it when he has to,” Raj said in a soothing tone. Raj was a very powerful troubadour, so the entire room relaxed, because he wanted us to relax.

  Raj was also part of our very secret A-C C.I.A. that Serene Dwyer, our current Head of Imageering, had started a few years ago. Other than the
troubadours who reported to her and me, no one else knew about them. Which was fine—hard to be a secret agency if everyone knows your name. Come to think of it, I didn’t know their official name. As always, my attention to the little things was nonexistent. Well, as with so many other things, I’d worry about that later.

  “Then that’s settled,” Chuckie said.

  “Yep, I’ll call Vance after dinner.”

  Christopher took the list next as “Everybody’s Gonna Be Happy” by the Kinks came on. “Why isn’t my dad on this list?”

  White, who was on the other side of Amy, and I exchanged a look. He was trying not to laugh. “Because I’m needed, son,” he said gently.

  “I wish you’d stop risking yourself constantly,” Christopher muttered. “Our baby deserves to have at least one living grandparent.”

  “Your dad’s the best agent we have, Christopher.” I pointed out. “And you know we won’t let him get hurt.”

  “And my parents will burst into tears if they hear you say that your child will only have one grandparent,” Jeff added. “In a very dramatic way. Which I’d love to avoid.”

  Christopher looked embarrassed and Amy patted his hand. “It’ll be fine. Our child will have the best extended family anyone could have.”

  Christopher managed a grimace I was fairly sure he thought was passing for a smile. Wondered if I could suggest that he be the one to stay home on this trip, but the reality was that we couldn’t afford to have our own Flash far from where the action was most likely to happen.

  Mahin and Abigail weren’t on Denise’s list, and those two were sitting and eating quietly, presumably so none of us would mention that they should stay home, too. Frankly, I wanted them both with us. Mahin was essentially an earth bender, and we were going to be on the ground. And Abigail had gotten all her powers back and her sister’s to boot during Operation Civil War, meaning she was scary formidable.

  The rest of dinner was spent with minor discussions of who was going, when we were going, and who else outside of the Embassy staff needed to come along. Unsurprisingly, our Secret Service staff had a lot of opinions on who should be staying at home. I stayed out of it—their arguments were fruitless because we’d all do what we wanted anyway, but it was nice to let them feel like they had input.