Alien vs. Alien

by Gini Koch

  “For once, we’re not miles behind you. It’s pretty clear Bellie heard everything Marling was plotting. She’s sort of told us. She knows ‘Daddy’s secrets’ but so far we haven’t gotten really clear answers.”

  “Ah. Well, do remember—it is a bird. It will not speak, or reason, as humans do.”

  “Point taken. So, are we going to pussyfoot, speak in vague homilies, or actually cut to the chase?”

  “I understand you did not pass a required test.”

  This conversational shift was classic Olga. I didn’t even blink or miss a beat. “Wow. Just how many contacts do you have, and where? I’m truly shocked you know this soon. Not that you know, mind you, just that you know only a couple hours after the fact.” Okay, maybe I blinked a little.

  Olga shrugged as if to indicate still waters continued to run deep. Not that there was any doubt. “I also understand there is a scandal brewing.”

  “Oh, yeah. The dirty pictures. They’re fakes.”

  “I’m sure they are. Your loyalties have never been questioned by me.”

  Loyalties, plural. Did she mean my being in a committed marriage, new Beloved Birdie aside, my friendship with Chuckie . . . or something else? It was Olga. Asking straight out so rarely worked.rard m I figured it was because, being mostly confined to a wheelchair, she wanted to prolong her fun as much as possible. No problem. Extra time spent with Olga, Adriana, and their foodstuffs was not an issue.

  Though Adriana, as per usual for these types of meetings, didn’t stay in the room. I was quite clear that Olga briefed her later. The possibility that Adriana watched us from a secret room was also quite high. But she made sure we had plenty of food and drink and then trotted out.

  “Do you have any recommendations for how to deal with the scandal?” White asked. “You do have more experience here than we do, Madame.” He was always courtly, but he turned it up to eleven for Olga. And it was also clear that Olga ate it up.

  It was slowly dawning on me that White was, quite frankly, a ladies’ man. It had only taken, what, close to two and a half years with almost constant contact for this to dawn on me, but at least the realization was finally arriving, wearing a Belated Clue sign.

  Olga laughed softly. “I suppose this is true. In some cases it’s best to meet things head on. In others, it is not.”

  I sighed to myself. Vague innuendos it was going to be. “Which tactic do you think we should use for this scandal?”

  “Whichever tactic will work at whichever time.”

  I really liked Olga, and not only because she’d sent Adriana along during Operation Assassination to ensure I didn’t die, but there were times she drove me crazy. Any time she had information we needed, especially.

  “Someone sent the pictures to Senator Armstrong and insinuated they were going to be released. He also told Guy Gadoire, at the least, about it.”

  “Interesting choices.” She said this leadingly.

  It was always Remedial Class whenever we chatted with Olga. She was a lot like my mother—usually about ten steps ahead of everyone else but determined to make you work for it so that you’d remember how to do it by yourself next time.

  “The senator and Gadoire both insist they aren’t trying to blackmail me and want to help.”

  “They could be telling the truth.” She didn’t say this definitively enough for me to feel truth was a given.

  I went for the frontal attack. “Okay, my plan was to get Mister Joel Oliver and Senator Armstrong, both of whom have seen the pictures, and go see if the nice guys from the K-9 squad could help out.”

  Olga nodded. “Your strategy has potential.” She didn’t sound like this was an awful plan, but it also clearly wasn’t first on the list of Olga’s Recommended Ideas. And I also wasn’t sure if by “potential” she meant potential to succeed or potential to be disastrous. Or both.

  “What would you recommend, Madame?” White asked again. He was always the one most willing to put up with Olga’s playing around. Maybe this was a form of flirtation in the older set. I still wasn’t a fan.

  “Oh, I imagine anything you try will be fine.”

  There was something about how she said this that made me want to really think about the next words that were goinghatfon to come out of my mouth. “You don’t see these pictures and whatever scandal they might cause as a big deal, do you?”

  “Oh, they can and likely will be made to be a very ‘big deal,’ ” Olga said gravely. “But they are hardly the biggest deal, so to speak.”

  Buchanan finally spoke up. “You think the pictures are just a distraction, don’t you?”

  “A distraction from what?” I asked this one, because I knew Buchanan had a good idea of what was really going on.

  “A distraction from more important things,” Olga replied, speaking to Buchanan, not me. “You are prepared?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. The mess at NASA Base ensured the Ambassador can’t actually know everything that’s going on.” He smiled at Olga. “At least, she can’t hear about it from anyone who officially knows.”

  Olga beamed. Clearly Buchanan was moving straight to the head of the class. “Ah?”

  Buchanan grinned. “However, it seems fortunate that no one in this room has been briefed on anything yet. So there’s no one here who could compromise their security clearance, since they don’t know what is or isn’t classified.”

  Olga nodded and looked to me. “Definitely keep Mister Buchanan close at hand, Ambassador. He will be most useful to you and your Mister Reynolds.”

  Yi

  CHAPTER 21

  BEFORE I COULD QUESTION WHY Olga had mentioned Chuckie and not Jeff in terms of Buchanan’s usefulness, Adriana popped her head into the room. “I’m sorry, Ambassadress, but the Ambassador just called. He’ll be home shortly.”

  “Ah, then I must ask our guests to take their leave. My Andrei will be wanting his dinner right away.”

  We all took the hint. We were on Romanian soil while in their Embassy, and Andrei wasn’t quite as aware of things as his wife and granddaughter were. I was quite willing to continue to keep him in the dark.

  We said our good-byes, and I noted the boys both hugged Adriana. I knew without asking that it was hard for her to be trapped in the Embassy as much as she was, even though it appeared she spent the downtime training in how to be the best New KGB operative ever. But I didn’t begrudge her some handsome male attention, and the boys were happy to provide it—she was a cute girl.

  Buchanan walked us across the street. “I’ll find you tomorrow.”

  “You’re not coming for dinner?” I’d gotten used to eating with him.

  He shook his head. “Your husband won’t like it.”

  “I’ll bet you twenty bucks that bird will be joining us.”

  He laughed. “Probably. But we’re back home now, and we need to have things appear to be normal.pear to /fonnth="

  “Whatever you say.”

  “See? That’s only one reason you don’t want me at dinner.” He grinned as I blushed. “See you later, Missus Chief. Try to give the bird a chance. And if you really can’t stand her, I promise she’ll meet an untimely death due to a sniper’s bullet.”

  “You’d shoot Bellie if I asked you to?”

  He nodded as he turned and walked away. “Yeah. My job has nothing to do with making your husband happy.”

  I waited to go in until Buchanan turned the corner. “Does anyone else want to know where the hell he goes?” To date, I’d never been able to spot or find Buchanan unless he wanted me to find or spot him. And I’d tried. It was as if he had Dr. Strange’s Sorcerer Supreme powers. Jeff hadn’t liked it when I’d mentioned that comparison.

  “No,” Len said shortly.

  “Ditto,” Kyle added.

  Come to think of it, the boys hadn’t liked the Dr. Strange comparison, either. There were times, like now, when I felt the boys saw Buchanan’s existence as my mother saying the boys weren’t good at their jobs. I knew this
wasn’t true, but now probably wasn’t the time to get into that particular discussion.

  “I’m just curious. He sort of comes and goes like the wind.”

  “I don’t care where he goes as long as he shows up when you need him,” Len said. “I want to know what’s really going on.”

  “Me too,” Kyle agreed. “From what he said, it sounds like we should avoid finding out, though.”

  “I agree,” White said. “I think our little team would be better off remaining out of the loop, at least for now.”

  “What do we say if someone tries to tell us something?” Len asked.

  “Tell them part of the truth—you don’t want to know because you don’t want to have to censor yourselves around me. I’m sure Jeff and Chuckie will agree.”

  White nodded. “It’s quite reasonable. And true. Now, let’s do as Mister Buchanan suggested and get ourselves as back to normal as we’re able to.”

  Every apartment in the Embassy had its own dining area, and the kitchen had two nooks, an island, a table for four that could extend to a table for eight, and a bar where you could eat. However, the Embassy also possessed a huge formal dining room, and that’s where we found the others.

  I was pleased and surprised to see Bellie nowhere in sight and Jamie in Jeff’s arms. Good thing Buchanan hadn’t joined us—I’d have owed him twenty bucks.

  I got the “Mommy’s Here!” squeal. It was always nice to know my baby missed me, even if I was only gone from her for about an hour.

  “See, Jamie-Kat?” Jeff said. “I told you Mommy would be home soon.”

  Jamie was bouncing with excitement. For her, this had to be the best night in a long time, because she had both of us. I sat next to Jeff and took Jamie while he put his arm around me. Everyone else was he ne . For here, chattering away, catching each other up on what had gone on while we were gone. Even Nurse Carter, who was sitting next to White, seemed relaxed and part of the group. It was pleasant and comfy. I leaned against Jeff. “It’s nice to be home.”

  “It’s nicer to have you home.” He hugged me and kissed the top of my head, then nuzzled my ear. “I missed you, baby. More than you can imagine.”

  Humongous dining table filled with people and our baby in my lap or not, I started to drool just a little. It had really been far too long since I’d been naked with my husband.

  Jeff chuckled. “Nice to see your mind’s gone straight back to the priorities.”

  I chose not to share that my mind hadn’t left the priorities for the past month, but I was too busy trying not to let the drool get onto Jamie.

  The conversation was pointedly kept on either what interesting things our Embassy personnel had done while we were gone or mundane Washington stuff. Of course, mundane meant scandals, snubs, and the like. Pierre was, unsurprisingly, a fount of all that was Insider: Washington.

  Doreen and Irving were also loaded with stories about all the interesting things we’d missed, including their baby’s first smile. Doreen insisted Ezra had given her the first, Irving felt he’d gotten it. Pierre’s expression indicated that, as far as he was concerned, Ezra’s Uncle Pierre had scored the first smile in reality.

  I would have liked to exchange stories with Doreen about what cute things Ezra and Jamie had done while we were gone, but Jamie had spent most of her time being miserable, and now wasn’t really the time anyway. I wasn’t all that interested in who was sleeping inappropriately with whom, mostly because I couldn’t keep it straight and tended to either forget or mix it up at the wrong time, which meant when I was with one or more of the people being indiscreet.

  Amy, however, was fascinated. Chuckie looked like he was taking mental notes, which, as I thought of it, he probably was. I checked everyone else out. Yep, they were all hanging on Pierre’s every juicy word, even Tito and Christopher, who I wouldn’t have thought would care at all about who was zooming whom. The thought occurred that I should maybe pay attention.

  “And the lovely people from the Czech diplomatic mission were our neighbors, but only for a fortnight.” Pierre shook his head. “We barely had time to visit before they had to move right back to their old haunts, which are inadequate for their needs but are at least livable.”

  “What happened?” Amy asked.

  “All the pipes in their building’s basement burst. All of them. Flooding up through half of the first floor. Cleanup and repair will take months.”

  “Not if A-Cs did it,” I said. “Speaking of which, are NASA Base’s gates all back together?”

  Christopher nodded. “Good as new. James told us they’d finished up just a couple of minutes before dinner. Though I don’t think NASA wants you to visit again any time soon.”

  Before I could say, yet again, that it really wasn’t my fault, Amy spoke up. “What’s going to happen to the building the Czechs had?” I wasn’t sure if this question was asked purely out of interesoutt t or because NASA Base was now on my Don’t Ask Don’t Tell list and Amy was getting the conversation back onto a safe track. Had a sinking feeling it was the latter, which was confirmed by catching Chuckie giving Amy a little nod.

  Chuckie and Amy were working together and I was out of the loop? Could this homecoming get any worse or more bizarre?

  Pierre threw up his hands. “No idea. The building’s owner was practically sobbing. He had to refund all deposits to the lovely Czechs, understandably of course, but he now has no capital with which to do the repairs. A broken man, if you ask me, financially and emotionally, poor thing.”

  There was general murmured consensus that plumbing issues sucked, and everyone felt bad for the building’s owner and glad it wasn’t us going through this homeowner’s nightmare.

  I’d figured we’d finished with all the gossip, but I was wrong. “Pierre, what happened with the Bahraini Embassy?” Amy asked. I would have sworn she’d spent all her time since we got back to D.C. in bed with Christopher or in the debrief she couldn’t talk about in front of me, but clearly they’d spent the time reading the last four weeks’ worth of gossip columns instead of doing the deed.

  “A break-in, darling. But nothing was taken. At least nothing the Bahraini Ambassador will admit to.”

  “Did they catch whoever did it?” Hey, I could still ask questions.

  Pierre shook his head. “Not yet. Of course, the Israelis are being blamed. But they insist they had nothing to do with it.”

  “Did anyone ask my mom?” All heads turned to me and everyone gave me the “what the hell” look. Why? It seemed like an obvious question to me. “Um, she’s former Mossad. If anyone would be able to confirm Israeli guilt or innocence on this break-in matter, I’d think Mom would be the one to do it.”

  “There are other suspects,” Pierre said. “Including some of the other Middle Eastern diplomatic missions. As well as the idea of a common thief.”

  “I’ve seen the Embassies in that area,” Kyle said. “They’re all protected like Fort Knox.”

  This was pretty much true. We were housed in the area nicknamed Embassy Row. Embassies were everywhere, interspersed among homes, businesses, hotels, and more. Half of the Embassy doorways were practically at the street. Most were architecturally pretty, some saying “look at me,” some just going for the understated look so popular with Old Money. Our general Embassy neighborhood was a friendly-feeling area.

  However, the Israeli and Bahraini Embassies weren’t really in our part of town, so to speak. I thought of the section where these particular Embassies resided as The Bunker.

  In The Bunker’s section of D.C., every Embassy was gated and secured, the buildings set well back from the street and no doorway was close to the gates, and the buildings weren’t nearly as pretty as the ones in our area—because they looked as though they’d been built for stolid usefulness and defensibility as opposed to architectural beauty.

  “That might be why they’re thinking it’s the Israelis,” Len said. “It takes real skill to break into an Embassy set up to keep you out.”


  “Mossad aren’t the only ones with those skills,” Chuckie said. “There are plenty of options. There’s also always Middle East intrigue going on. But it’s a police matter, not something the head of the P.T.C.U. needs to worry about.”

  I was going to ask if this was standard intrigue or intrigue related to what I now no longer got to know about when Jamie yawned. Widely.

  “Time for someone to go to bed.” I handed her back to Jeff, who put her gently onto his shoulder. Jamie snuggled her little face right into his neck and sighed happily.

  “Time for you, too, Kitty,” Tito said sternly. “You overdid it today and didn’t take the nap you were supposed to.”

  Under most circumstances I would have protested, but frankly Tito was both right and ensuring that I at least had a hope of getting to see my husband outside of his clothes. “Okay, Tito, whatever you say, you’re the doctor.”

  “I expected more of an argument about it,” Tito said with a grin. “But I can understand why you’re more tractable than normal.”

  Jeff stood up holding Jamie with one hand while he took my hand in the other and gave it a squeeze. “I’m going to turn in, too, then. Have to take care of my girls.”

  Everyone at the table gave us looks that said they knew exactly what we were going to be doing the moment the baby was in bed. I saw no reason to deny the obvious.

  “So, don’t knock or call unless it’s a dire emergency.”

  “And even then,” Jeff added as we headed off, “really think twice about it.”

  “Long and hard about it. So to speak.”

  Jeff chuckled as we left the dining room and headed for the elevator. “Long and hard’s coming, baby.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  Jeff waited until we were in the elevator. “Baby, you know I keep my promises. And then I improve on them.”

  Then he kissed me, and my mouth was far too busy to talk.

  Yi