by Gini Koch
Evalyne and Joseph were both talking into their headpieces and tapping on their phones. Buchanan was on his phone, too. Evalyne finished first. “We’ve increased the guard around the Speaker of the House and the President Pro Tempore of the Senate.”
“Good,” Mom said. “Hopefully it’s enough. Good call keeping us back, Jeff, Kitty.”
“Thanks. I’m a little attached to Senator McMillan, let’s recall. And the Speaker of the House is always nice to us, too.”
McMillan had been elected President Pro Tempore a year ago, and he was a huge supporter, meaning Huntress attack or no, his head was definitely in our enemies’ sights. Whether or not the Speaker was with us, with our enemies, or neutral I had no idea, but it was probably best to figure neutral and needing protection.
“I don’t care if you loathe them,” Mom said. “They’re not going to be assassinated on my watch if I can help it at all.”
“Point taken and agreed with. And, not to point my fingers any more than I already am, but there was that assassination attempt on Senator McMillan last week. Ergo, Strauss moves to the head of the line in terms of suspicion. I do actually have a clothing question, though, Mom.”
“Really? What is it?”
I held up my duffel bag. “Is it going to cause a lot of problems if I dress for what I expect to happen?”
“What is it you expect?” Len asked.
I snorted. “Dude, I expect us to be attacked. And I fight better in casual clothes. And before anyone tells me that I’m not supposed to get involved and, instead, stay all safe and protected, I want all of you to consider how often I get that option. Take your time, I’ll wait.”
The heads in the room collectively nodded and there were several sighs, heaviest from Jeff, Mom, and Chuckie, with the Secret Service’s sighs echoing on cue.
“She’s right,” Chuckie said. “But Kitty, if you’re expecting trouble, won’t you changing just indicate that and tip off everyone?”
“Oh, you underestimate me. Trust me, I have a plan that will work. Besides, Strauss already knows we’re expecting trouble, so if she’s in on whatever’s going on, her compatriots already know that we know.”
Jeff laughed. “No one here underestimates you, baby.”
“Awesome. So, let’s head for the main dining car and rejoin everyone. I’m starving.”
“You just ate,” Mom pointed out. “For at least the second time this morning.”
“Just accept that I’m part hobbit, Mom. Action and boredom both make me hungry, what can I say?”
We headed for the dining car, but I left my duffel bag in the room. I’d be back for it shortly.
Jeff had everyone else go ahead of us, though of course the Secret Service were trailing to ensure we didn’t stop to have sexy times. Haters.
“I know what you’re planning,” he said quietly to me. “Just try not to affect anyone else. Not even Monica, though I know you’d love to.”
“Fine, Stealer of All My Joy.”
The main dining car’s personnel had also been with the Office of the President for years. Shawn, who was the chef, Janet, who was the cook, and Kenton, the headwaiter, had all been in service for a couple of decades, Kenton for thirty years, the two women over twenty years each. Andrea, the pastry chef, and Wade and Duncan, the other two waiters for the car, had been around for seven years each.
Got my hugs from all of them, then headed in to find a place to sit and eat. Armstrong and Elaine were at a table for four, but they had no one else with them. Clearly the other two seats were for us, based on Armstrong waving us over.
We sat and gave Duncan our food and drink orders. In deference to the A-Cs’ deathly allergy to alcohol, Armstrong had declared Rail Force One as well as Rail Force Two alcohol-free zones.
While we sipped our drinks, it occurred to me that we’d been really lucky so far in one aspect. “You know, I hate to jinx us, but why do you think our enemies haven’t just tried slipping vodka into every A-C’s drink?”
Armstrong looked concerned. “I thought all A-Cs wore something to determine alcohol content.”
“We do.” Our scientists had created a sensor that every A-C wore. It attached to any kind of jewelry, and most of them wore the sensor attached to watches, bracelets, and even a few rings. Jeff’s was in his watch. They’d been created after Operation Fugly, and everyone wore one, as soon as they were old enough to safely wear jewelry. I wore one in my watch, too, because we weren’t sure if alcohol would affect me or not.
A lot of our human personnel wore them, too. Not to protect themselves, but as a catchall for the A-Cs they worked with. But still, mistakes could and did happen, and all it would take was the wrong sip at the wrong time.
“I’d assume our enemies know that’s not a way to get to us, baby,” Jeff said. “Why are you worried about this all of a sudden?”
“No idea.”
Now Jeff looked worried. “Feminine intuition acting up?”
Jeff felt that what my mother called my gut and what I called my Megalomaniac Girl skills was my form of feminine intuition. And he trusted that in me as a gauge of what to worry about, listen to, prepare for, etc.
“I honestly have no idea. I guess it’s just because I’m jumpy.”
“We have food testers,” Armstrong said. “Because there are plenty of poisons. As you well know.” As he said this, Duncan brought our meals, though he didn’t say anything about poisoning them one way or the other.
“Yeah.” A friend of ours had been poisoned at a dinner party we’d thrown, at the start of Operation Sherlock. “As long as they’re on the case, and not dying, I think I’m just trying to anticipate the moves. Especially because of Lizzie.”
“Lizzie?” Elaine asked. “Who’s that?”
“Oh. Right. We haven’t caught you guys up on the other things going on.” Which Jeff and I proceeded to do, leaving out some key Team Assassination facts.
When we were done, Armstrong’s eyes were narrowed. “If Ansom Somerall is involved, I’m with Kitty—we need to be prepared for anything. Her parents creating a superdrug indicates Gaultier, too.”
“But until we handle the Planetary Council, NASA Base, and whoever’s trying to kill Gideon,” Jeff said, “not to mention the escaped prisoners, illnesses and poisonings seem very low on the list of concerns.”
Armstrong smiled. “Good point. Jeff, I realize we’re hoping we’ll get a second term. But when my time as President is done, you need to accept the party’s request for you to run.”
Jeff groaned. “Vince, I’m not happy being a politician.”
“No, but you’re happy helping the people of this country, and the world. You’re one of the few whose heart, head, and actions are always in the right place. And while you’re willing to compromise, you won’t give in on the wrong things. And I know Don’s told you the same things.”
“He has,” Jeff admitted. This was true. I’d heard McMillan telling Jeff things like this for years now.
“Well,” Elaine said, patting Armstrong’s hand, “Jeff will have plenty of time to worry about this, Vince. For now, let’s just enjoy our meal and relax until the real action starts.”
No sooner did she say this, than the train lurched. And I took my opportunity.
CHAPTER 36
“CRAP!” I spilled my drink, which was a brightly multicolored fruit slushie, onto myself. It looked accidental, but the proof that it wasn’t was that I didn’t get it onto anyone else at the table.
Of course, those who’d been with me when I’d made this plan were less surprised than they could have been, but they all faked it well enough. Everyone else grabbed their drinks and looked freaked out.
“It’s okay, folks,” Kenton said reassuringly, as Duncan raced over with a towel to try to help me clean off. “Just hit a bump on the track.”
A quick surv
ey of the Secret Service agents on board told me and everyone else this was true. Other tables relaxed and went back to eating.
“I think my clothes need the Operations Team to have a hope of recovery,” I said, after Duncan and I had done our best to clean me up, with not a lot of success.
“Did you bring a change?” Elaine asked worriedly.
“Yeah, but not enough to have options if this happens again. And, seeing as it’s me, and seeing as trains remain bumpy and I remain klutzy, do you think it’s the end of the world if I just change into jeans?”
Armstrong looked at Elaine. Who pursed her lips. “Well . . . we’re on a campaigning mission, at least partially, so you won’t be dressed appropriately for that. However, you do have a reputation as being laid back and a rebel. So it could work to our advantage, showing that you’re going to be you no matter what.”
“Then it’s settled,” Armstrong said. “Do you want to change now or finish your food first?”
“If you don’t mind if I use hyperspeed, I’ll finish.” Why waste any of the great food was my motto.
Armstrong nodded to indicate I could go ahead, which I did. Then I excused myself and headed back to our car, Evalyne and Phoebe coming with me.
“Smooth,” Evalyne said once we were in our car. “I honestly don’t think anyone who wasn’t in on the fact that you were going to do something realized the spill was intentional.”
“We’re not going to let you leap into anything, you know,” Phoebe added.
“As if leaping in is my first choice? And I don’t mean that sarcastically. But, we all know the escaped prisoners are going to be coming after us. I’m a lot safer dressed like this.” I pulled the Aerosmith shirt on and heaved a contented sigh. I was always better with my boys on my chest.
Considered the Fall Out Boy hoodie. “Think I’m going to need this?”
“If it rains,” Phoebe said. “And I checked the humidity index before we left. We’ll be heading into some potential showers, though hopefully not at any of our stops.”
“I’d leave it here until you need it, though,” Evalyne said. “Unless you’re chilly from the air conditioning.”
Contemplated. “I was hotter in the nice clothes. So, yeah, I’ll put it on. Why risk getting a cold?”
“It’s a low risk,” Evalyne said drily, “but good for you setting the good example for your children, even if they’re not here.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Everyone’s a critic. And since Vince, Ariel, and Strauss are all sniffling and look crappy, I think the risk of getting a cold is up significantly. Vince has had that cold for at least a week.”
Gave Bruno some scritchy-scratches and Ginger some pets, then headed back and got to have dessert with everyone. I’d made it a point to not miss any food of any kind on the train, and Andrea’s pastries didn’t disappoint.
When we were done, Jeff, Armstrong, Mom, Strauss, Ariel, Raj, and their gaggle of Secret Service and A-C agents went back to the War Room. Mercifully, I was told I wasn’t needed, possibly so I wouldn’t get into another fight with Strauss.
Regardless of the reason, I was happy to have the downtime. However, hanging out at a table alone was no fun. Moved to join Vance, Claudia, and Lorraine, who were at a table between the one with Reader, Gower, Tim, and Caroline, and the one with Tito, Rahmi, Rhee, and Adriana. Oliver and Stryker were at the two-seater across the aisle, White and Christopher were at the two-seater across from Reader, and Mahin and Abigail were at the two-seater across from Tito.
Buchanan, Len, Kyle, and Falk, who’d been eating at the table behind mine originally, followed me, though they stayed standing around all of us, as did Evalyne and Phoebe.
“Nice of you guys to join the party,” Reader said, as I sat down. “The one thing we’re lacking is a place that’s not called the War Room to hang out with this number of people. The guest cars are great, but they’re designed to sit those who are sleeping in each car, not to bring in a party.”
“I’m glad we’re here,” Tim said. “Since I expect an attack at any time.”
“They’ll wait until we’re farther away from D.C.,” Lorraine said.
Claudia nodded. “Or try at NASA Base.”
“I’m expecting attacks constantly, but that’s just me.”
“Yeah, speaking of which,” Tito said, “what’s this we hear about you and the Secretary of State going at it? What happened?”
“It’s Kitty,” Christopher said. “Why ask why?”
“I don’t like her. And I don’t trust her, either.”
“Think she’s on the Mastermind’s side?” Gower asked.
“Not sure. I’m certain she’s on her own side, though. And that side isn’t looking at any of us, Jeff in particular, in a helpful and friendly way.”
“That’s just politics,” Reader said. “Unfortunately.”
“Yeah. She was wearing an emotional blocker or overlay, too. Which is business as usual for us. Speaking of which, have we heard anything from anyone regarding all the things going on that we’re hoping to prevent?”
Everyone shook their heads. “We’ve only really been gone around three or four hours, and only about ninety minutes on the train,” Reader pointed out. “We’ll be hitting Richmond soon, though. You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I’m worried that the President isn’t going to be up to this,” Tito said. “He looks terrible.”
“He doesn’t look all that bad, I don’t think. He’s got some weeklong cold, and I guess he’s given it to Ariel and Strauss, but otherwise he looks fine.”
“He’s in makeup,” Tito said flatly. “It’s a very good makeup job, but it’s still makeup. To hide that he looks ill.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“That’s not a surprise, and I don’t mean that as an insult,” Tito added quickly. “But the makeup is good enough that you’re not supposed to notice it. I did because I’m a doctor, and I was paying attention to how he looked the moment I heard him sniffle.”
“Does that mean he has a makeup person with us?” Tim asked. “Because I didn’t spot their name if so, and I went over the passenger list.”
Looked to Evalyne who spoke into her wristcom. “Need verification of who’s handling Slick’s hair and makeup on this trip. Huh, you’re sure Sophistication is handling those duties? Really? Okay, thanks. Yes, reassure Playboy that Cyclone is contained. For now.”
“I resent that. And tell them to say hi to Cosmos for me.”
The Secret Service assigned code names to their charges, as shorthand and a form of protection. They used those names when they were talking to each other about us, but when we were just having normal person conversations they managed to use our real names. Names were also assigned by letter, so if your main person’s nickname started with a B, anyone and everyone under their protection detail got B names as well.
Armstrong had landed his family a set of S names, and Jeff had gotten his C names. Jamie was Cutiepie and Charlie was Challenger. Chuckie, because of who he was to us and what his cover was for the C.I.A., had gotten the Playboy moniker.
Evalyne shook her head. “You two have been apart for less than five minutes.”
“Jeff and I like spending time together. Anyway, so the word is that Elaine is doing Vince’s hair and makeup? Isn’t that hella unusual?”
“It is,” Phoebe replied. “Almost as unusual as you being contained.”
“Ha ha ha, this is me laughing uproariously. Seriously, though, doesn’t that seem odd, especially because we’re stumping and meeting alien dignitaries?”
Tito looked more worried. “I think it signifies that the President has more than a cold.”
Reader and Gower exchanged a look, and both of them looked at White, who nodded. “I’ll see what I can learn from the First Lady when we have a moment.
” As I’d slowly learned, White was a ladies’ man of the highest order. If anyone was going to get state or family secrets out of Elaine, it’d be him.
“Good,” Gower said. “I’ll speak to the President when there’s an opportune time, as well.”
The train jerked a little, and Wade called to us from the kitchen area. “We’re pulling into Richmond, folks. Think you might want to get to wherever you need to be for this stop.”
Phoebe checked her watch. “We’re a little early.”
“Is that good, bad, or indifferent?”
She shrugged. “That all depends on what’s waiting there for us.”
“Ah,” Gower said. “So, routine.”
CHAPTER 37
THE THING ABOUT campaign stumping was that you weren’t using the train like normal people did, to get from one location to another. Using the train to campaign meant stopping where you could be seen, preferably out in the open.
The special thing about how we were doing it was that we hadn’t done a lot of publicity leading up to this particular dog and pony show. The reasons for this lack were good, but it meant that, at least at the first few stops, there might be no reason to stop.
Both of these things meant that we weren’t going into the train station so much as pulling up, getting out, and stretching our legs, while casually looking around for people to impress and being shocked, just shocked, if there were people there to press the flesh in an impromptu manner.
Richmond had a nice station, and, thankfully, an area where we could indeed stop and get out that left us outside but not overwhelmingly exposed.
We exited from the cars we were in—the crowd, such as it was, wasn’t large enough to have Armstrong and Jeff bother to campaign from the caboose.
The weather was pleasant, but I felt the humidity in the air. Hoped I wouldn’t be sweating like a pig shortly—I was a desert dweller by birth and preference and I liked my heat dry, thank you. Humidity and I weren’t pals, and I could already feel my hair starting to go limp.