by Gini Koch
“Or he said it was a countersign so you’d know it was he who was calling,” White suggested.
“Unless James was right the first time and it’s neither useless nor code nor a countersign.” Called Lizzie.
“Kitty, I still haven’t heard from my dad.”
“I think I have, and I need you to do something for me.”
“Sure.”
“Great. Tell Walter that you have to go to the roof, with my permission. I want him to ensure that you can actually walk on the roof while still keeping the Embassy complex shielded, or if he can’t, that he’s watching to turn the shields off and on again fast.”
“Okay. Why am I going to the roof?”
“Take a strong flashlight with you and search every inch of the roof. You’re looking for your father’s notebook or something similar. Maybe even a flash drive. Something that can store data. The Secret Service already searched the roof, so whatever’s up there is well hidden.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “You think Mister Dash hid my father’s notebook on the Embassy roof?” It was interesting—when she wasn’t talking about her real parents, she called Siler her father. But the moment we were talking about her parents he became Mr. Dash. Couldn’t argue—whatever got her through the horror was okay with me. Especially now.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because he has an interesting sense of humor, and he’d consider our roof one of the safest places in the world.”
“He did tell me that he was putting me in the safest place he could think of.”
“There you go. We need you to be Quick Girl with this, by the way, because unshielded means tremendously vulnerable and if the information is indeed on our roof, you need to get it to my dad and start deciphering it beyond fast.”
“Will do, Kitty.” She sounded far more alert and efficient—less teenager and more superhero sidekick. Clearly being Quick Girl gave her confidence. Again, couldn’t argue—being Megalomaniac Girl certainly helped me.
“Be sure to look absolutely anywhere and everywhere on the roof. You know Mister Dash—think about where he’d hide something and search there first. Figure he anticipated someone looking for this, so try to think like he would have. Whatever you find, take it to my dad immediately. I’ll check in with you when I can.”
“You got, it Commander.” Yep, she was definitely more official and ready for action as Quick Girl. “Quick Girl out and on the case.”
“So, if we know where the notebook is, why are we going to Florida?” Reader asked as I hung up.
“Because we don’t know for sure that I’m right and our allies are captured and probably being tortured and we don’t leave our people behind.”
Tim chuckled. “Nice to know you’ll move heaven and earth for anyone on your side, Kitty.”
“It’s what we do,” White said. “All of us, even if you two want to pretend you don’t want to go.”
“I don’t want to go,” Reader said. “We didn’t weapon up before we left, meaning all we have is whatever bullets Tim and I have loaded and whatever’s in Kitty’s purse.”
“Hey, my purse tends to come through.”
“Because you put everything you find into it, girlfriend.” Reader flashed me the cover boy grin. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Could have fooled me, James.”
As the floater gate shimmered into view, Reader grabbed my hand and Tim’s, White took my free hand. Then we walked through, me truly doing my best not to throw up. I hadn’t had food or rest in far too long and my stomach was tired of running on empty.
Which turned out okay, considering where we landed.
CHAPTER 78
WELL, WE LANDED in a bathroom, of course. Because even when the fate of the world was at stake, aliens were weird. However, when we stepped out, after verifying that no one was around or looking in our direction, it turned out we were in a Wendy’s.
“Awesome.” Went to the counter and ordered a chocolate Frosty.
“Is now really the time?” Reader asked.
“I’m starving, so yeah, it is.” Got my Frosty and started spooning it into my mouth as fast as possible, though at human speed.
People were in here, talking about the President’s death and worrying that there was a disease out there. Heard the word “Ebola” more than a few times. But no one was running crazed through the streets. Yet. However it felt like that was imminent and just one thing would set off the powder keg.
“Interesting,” White said, looking at his phone while I scarfed.
“What is?” I asked between mouthfuls.
“We appear to be at the closest fast food restaurant to the Amtrak station. We’re also quite close to the Orlando Regional Medical Center.”
“Being near where we’d have disembarked makes sense. Are you saying that we’re heading to the medical center?”
“No. We appear to be heading into the industrial area on the opposite side of the main street next to the train station. To a metal recycling plant to be specific.”
“That bodes.”
“As if this entire situation doesn’t?” Reader shook his head, took my empty Frosty cup, and threw it away. He returned to our table. “Are you ready to rock and roll now?”
“Now that I won’t faint from hunger at an inopportune time, yes I am.”
“I’m willing to wait for Kitty to get a burger and fries, if need be,” Tim said.
Reader rolled his eyes. “I swear you guys weren’t this much work when Jeff and Christopher were in charge.”
“Sure we were, you were just on our side then, boss man.”
“True enough. Let’s get back into our old mode, then, girlfriend, and kick it like it’s hot.”
“You really are so gangsta, James.”
We headed out of the Wendy’s and walked down the street. “Huh,” White said, again looking at his phone.
“What now, Mister White?”
He held his phone so we could all watch Cliff Goodman and Wesley Green giving a joint statement to the press. Clearly they’d done this when we were all at NASA Base because I recognized the location and the people in the background.
Green was saying that we potentially had an epidemic on our hands. Cliff was reassuring that, if so, FEMA would step in to support the CDC.
“Why is that only running now?” Tim asked. “They did that a while ago now.”
“This is on a loop,” White said. “Wait for it.”
Sure enough, we got a reporter sharing that they had newer information now. We saw Cliff again, clearly inside the White House, though this time none of our people were around though clearly some press were, press we hadn’t brought over with us from NASA Base. He was confirming an epidemic and listing the names of the dead—which included names of people I didn’t know but assumed worked in the White House or with those who’d been infected first. This was a move that would absolutely cause panic, which was, I was sure, the goal.
Cliff then urged the populace to go to FEMA emergency units that were being set up in most major cities to get vaccinated for flu and bubonic plague. “We don’t know if the vaccines will work on this Alien Flu, but we can but hope and try to save as many as we can.”
“Oh. My dear God. Cliff’s lit the match. He’s got the disease all set and ready to go, doesn’t he?”
“Lit the match?” Reader asked.
“The current situation is commonly referred to as a powder keg, James,” White answered for me.
“Oh. Should have caught that.”
“We’re all tense, James.” I was certainly tense now.
“Alien Flu?” Tim asked angrily. “Since when?”
“That’s who he wants to blame it on, us or the Planetary Council or both.”
“I’d say both,” White said.
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“That would be my bet,” Reader agreed, voice tight.
“Jeff must have tried to get his blood. That would explain him stepping things up.”
“Or this is just the next step in his timeline,” Reader said. “And based on this video it looks like he has both the President’s approval and that the President is nowhere around, too. It’s perfect. Tell the people to panic, blame aliens, get them to your facilities, give them the plague, tell them that the symptoms are just a reaction to the vaccine, let them infect everyone who didn’t come to see you.”
“And then let them all die.” Tim’s voice shook. “Why is he going to kill everyone if he plans to survive?”
“It won’t kill everyone,” White said. “No disease is a hundred percent effective. Those who survive will be too lost to argue with the changes in leadership. The republic will go down.”
“And the Nation of Cliff will go up. And when it does, any aliens left alive will be hunted and killed, blamed for this plague. And then, anyone who’s accused of being an alien, or an alien supporter is killed, too. Or rounded up into death camps.”
“Yes,” White said quietly. “This does sound much like the beginning of World War Two.”
“Then let’s do what the U.S. did in that war, get into that metal recycling factory, and get our allies out. By the way—I no longer care about Cliff’s kill switch plans, or even where the clones of Reid and LaRue are. Or if he has a million clones waiting. I want him, the Original Cliff, dead before this is over.”
“I’m with you, girlfriend, but what we want and what we get aren’t always the same things.”
Pulled my phone out and called Serene. “You’re on speaker and have you seen the news?” I asked before she even said hello.
“Yes, I have. I don’t trust those vaccines, Kitty.”
“Neither do we. And Cliff has us all under quarantine, doesn’t he?”
“He does.”
“Well, we’ve risked more for less. I need you to send teams to wherever FEMA’s setting up. They need to grab those vaccines and bring them to Dulce for analysis. Then we need to supply something safer for them to inject into all the unsuspecting citizenry.”
She was quiet for a few moments.
“What?” Reader asked.
“I’m just wondering . . . He knows our playbook, you guys. Isn’t this exactly what we’d do? The chess move we’d make? Maybe this is all a ruse to get us to have the killer drug in our possession, so that he can blame us for everything. He’s already calling it the Alien Flu, after all.”
We all looked at each other. “Very possible,” White said. “We are reacting just as expected.”
“So, does that mean he thinks we’re out, or that he thinks we’re trying to circumvent from inside the White House?” Hoped he thought we were in, but didn’t count on it.
Tim was texting. “Christopher says that he thinks Cliff believes we’re all upstairs.”
Nice to have a tiny bit of luck go our way. “It’s the order we’d give from inside or out, though. The question is—does he know that the rest of us know who he really is, or does he think it’s only Chuckie’s who’s figured it out?”
“There’s no way to be sure,” Reader said.
My brain nudged. Bizarro World Jamie had said “he knows” and she’d said that to me. Besides, it was always best to assume the worst. And him telling me and Jeff he was going to take our children was much more of a direct threat if he knew that we knew he was the Mastermind. Meaning he definitely knew and was just playing with his prey. Well, screw that. I was the cat in this game.
“Cliff knows we all know.”
“You sound pretty certain all of a sudden,” Tim said.
“I am because it makes the most sense and the time for wishful thinking is probably well past. So I think Serene’s right—this is potentially a trap for us. At the same time, we can’t allow him to infect God knows how many people.”
“We could remove the vaccines,” Serene said. “But if we’re caught, it’s the same thing as everyone finding us holding the death drug—it looks like we’re trying to hurt everyone.”
“And you know we’ll be caught,” Tim said. “Because that would be part of the overall plan.”
Was staring at my phone, so I saw the song alert flash onto the screen. “Countdown to Armageddon” by Public Enemy. Nice to know Algar was sending me the extra pressure needed to either collapse or turn into a diamond.
Another song flashed. “Irresponsible Hate Anthem” by Marilyn Manson. Then the Public Enemy song flashed again. Then the Marilyn Manson one.
“What’s up with your phone?” Tim asked. “Is it low on battery right now? Because that would just figure.”
“Don’t know.” Stared at the songs flashing alternately. Algar wanted me to think, because we were running out of time.
“Is that one song the theme song for our favorite church?” Reader asked with a bitter laugh. “Because that would also make so much sense. Though in that case, Public Enemy should be the group recording ‘Irresponsible Hate Anthem.’”
“I love you, James. Serene, we need to figure out how to get a message to Club Fifty-One and the Church of Hate and Intolerance.”
“Uh, why in the world would we want to do that?”
“Well, we don’t want to call them straight out. But we need to ensure that they firmly believe that everything going on in the various FEMA centers and wherever is all A-C run. And that the A-Cs created the vaccine.”
Didn’t want to have to point blank ask her to assign her A-C C.I.A. team to this, but sincerely hoped she’d get my unspoken message. Pity none of us were psychic.
“Oh,” Serene said, sounding like a total dingbat. Which meant she’d figured out what I wanted and didn’t want the guys to catch on. Maybe she was psychic after all. I was getting to the point where I sort of figured there was nothing Serene couldn’t do. “I think I know exactly how to do that, Kitty. And . . . that’s brilliant.”
“You’re going to try to get our enemies to destroy the very thing they want to have happen?” Reader asked.
“That’s the plan. They’re just stupid enough to fall for it.” Cliff wasn’t, of course, but he wasn’t who I hoped Serene’s team would be contacting.
“Let’s hope,” Serene said. “I’m going to get off. I’ll contact you when I have news.”
“Don’t call us, we’ll call you, Serene. We’re about to go hunting wabbits.”
“Gotcha.”
“Really?”
“Really. Raj has us all watching a lot of TV shows so we’ll learn how you think.”
“Oh good. I think.”
“It’s a compliment. Hang in there, Kitty. We’ll get this rolling.”
“I know I can count on you, Serene. And, just in case, we love you.”
“We love you, too. But we’re not saying goodbye forever, okay? Someone I really respect taught me to never give up and never surrender. And also that if we were going down, we were going down fighting. So, I’m planning to do what you taught me, and I suggest you do the same.”
We hung up and the men looked at me. “She has a point. So let’s show these Cuban assassins just how we do things downtown, Dingo Style.”
CHAPTER 79
“DINGO STYLE?” Reader asked.
“Don’t question, she’s rolling,” Tim said.
“I’m ignoring both of you. Mister White, what are your thoughts about how many unfriendlies we’re about to meet?”
“I sincerely believe that it would take far more than two people to capture our three friends.”
“My thinking as well.”
“Mine, too,” Reader said. “Hence why I wish we had more weapons than what we have on us.”
Looked at him, shook my head, and sighed. Then started walking again, while I sent a text to
William. Text sent, grabbed White’s hand, he grabbed Tim, I grabbed Reader, and we took off at hyperspeed. Oh, sure it was literally just across the street, but why be a good citizen when we were faster than the cars?
Though I realized that I was only faster than the cars because I was holding onto White.
We did a cursory run around the building and the area. It was your basic industrial area, with a lot of piles of scrap metal, buildings and machines that did whatever they did to scrap metal, old train cars, smooshed cars, and the like. There were other related businesses like welding and glass and such that seemed to share the same yard, rail cars off the main tracks that might or might not be ready for scrap, and no one around since it was after normal business hours. There were also no night watchmen or guard dogs. In other words, it was the perfect Bad Guy Lair area.
We stopped at the side of the building that wasn’t on the street, behind a big pile of scrap metal.
“Guys, I think my hyperspeed is failing.”
They all looked concerned. “I don’t feel a hundred percent,” White said, “but I’m having no issues other than the fatigue I’d associate with fever.”
“So that means it hits humans harder than A-Cs,” Reader said. “That’s not what I thought it would do, based on what Lizzie told you.”
“The original goal of this disease may have changed,” Tim pointed out. “Or it was made at such high strength that those without regeneration are going down faster.”
“I’m not fully human anymore,” I reminded them.
“Which is why you’re losing hyperspeed versus feeling terrible,” Reader said. “Unfortunately, it’s only a matter of time. For all of us. So, let’s keep moving.”
“You’re right.” Sent the go text to William. Guns and clips appeared at our feet. “Look,” I whispered. “It’s like magic!”
“I hate you,” Reader muttered. “Fine, yeah, I wasn’t thinking. Tell whoever sent this thanks.”
“William says he lives to serve. So, let’s weapon up, boys.”
We all grabbed semiautomatics and a ton of clips. Grabbed extra clips for my Glock and dropped them in my purse while Tim and Reader slung rocket launchers over their backs. Put a semiautomatic rifle over my back.