by Gini Koch
Leslie and Bryce had been Marling’s real children. Though he and his wife, Cybele, and her sister, Cartwright, had done experiments on them, presumably because Siler had been rescued by his uncle, so they needed new playthings.
Controlled a shudder. How any parent could do what these had done to their children was beyond me. The thought of someone hurting Jamie, Charlie, or Lizzie—or any other child—like this made me physically ill and mad as hell. However, currently, I didn’t need rage. Forced my mind back to whatever weird conundrum it was trying to make me ferret out.
So, anything android related came from Marling’s work, with a major assist on the goal by Amy’s late father, Herbert Gaultier, who was the man behind all the horrible cloning crap. Leslie and Bryce weren’t real people anymore by the time I’d met them, and Gaultier’s cloning had definitely been involved.
But the Fem-Bots hadn’t come from them. The Kitty-Bot, the first one that we now had under our control in Dulce, she’d been with Ronald Yates at the start of Operation Fugly. And Marling and Gaultier had never insinuated that they’d done anything on that project, and nothing we’d found in massive CIA, FBI, and Centaurion Division investigations had connected them to the Fem-Bots in any real way. They had, however, been connected to the late Secretary of State, Monica Strauss.
Pulled out my phone. Chuckie answered right away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Yet. I just have a relevant question. Have we ever figured out who made the first Kitty-Bot, the one that was with Yates impersonating me way back when? The one Monica Strauss used as her prototype. You know, before I knew you and my mom were working in covert ops and all that jazz?”
“Wow, you’re really never going to let that go, are you?”
“You’ve known me how long?”
“Almost forever, and yeah, you’re not. I don’t have a lot for you. While you’d think that it was created by Titan Security under Marling’s leadership, we haven’t found any proof of such. Same with Gaultier Enterprises.”
“What about all of our robotics information?” We had a lot of it, after all. I’d been too busy with all the Galactic Learning to think about all the Bots out there recently, but clearly today was the day to start up again. “And whatever we’ve found from the Kitty-Bot?”
“Well, that’s kind of interesting, but I’m not sure we have the time right now.”
“Is it something you can share with me at the eleven o’clock meeting that I’m sure is, despite all that’s gone on, still on the books?”
He laughed. “Yes, everyone there has the clearance.”
“Super, then we’ll make it so at that time. Don’t forget.”
“Like you’re going to, you mean? No, I’ll remember. By the way, I think we’re missing the obvious. The Tinkerer would make the most sense for the original robotics creation.”
“Oh, you know, I’d thought of that earlier and forgotten it.”
“Shocker.”
“Careful, I know where you live.”
“Yeah, speaking of that, Pierre let me know that we have a new tenant in the Cairo. Apparently it’s a bigwig from the Middle East. The building management seems to be quite thrilled about it. We were advised because the new tenant’s on the same floor as me, Nathalie, and Elaine.”
Elaine Armstrong was the widow of the late President and now Jeff’s Secretary of State. I’d liked her a lot when she’d been the First Lady, and I liked her more now, because now she was doing the same thing she’d always done—helping run the country wisely and with great care and empathy—but with a great deal more power and influence.
I’d met Nathalie Gagnon-Brewer via the Washington Wife Class, but she fell on the Vance and Abner side of the house—close now, but originally, we weren’t all that friendly. We’d become friends with her and her husband, Rep. Edmund Brewer, during Operation Sherlock, only to have him murdered by the Mastermind’s henchmen during Apprentice Tryouts.
Nathalie had taken her husband’s slot in the House and had been appointed the Secretary of Transportation once Jeff was President. The Brewers had lived at the Cairo, and Nathalie had decided to stay because Edmund had loved the building. She’d convinced Elaine to move into the Cairo after Armstrong’s death, and I’d followed suit and had Chuckie move in there, too. They were in what they all called the Widow and Widowers Wing. But at least they had each other. And now they had someone else.
Stopped walking. “Oh. Oh no. I have a horrible feeling I know who your new neighbor is.”
Chuckie was quiet for a moment. “Oh, hell no! You think Raheem put his teenaged grandson up at my building? Why the hell would he do that?”
“Because he wants Wasim where he can be looked after and protected. And he knows that the Secretary of State, the Secretary of Transportation, and, probably most significantly, the Director of the CIA are all living there. Welcome to your new role—Assistant Bahraini Prince Babysitter.”
Chuckie groaned. “This day just keeps on getting better and better.”
“Yeah, just wait. I’m about to meet our royal visitor.”
“I’ll tell Walter to expect more explosions.”
“That’s what Joe said only a few minutes ago.”
“Because you and Jeff wisely surround yourselves with smart people.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended. I think I’ll go for both.”
“See? I said you were wise.”
CHAPTER 15
WE HUNG UP as my entourage and I reached the top of the Grand Staircase that took us up to the State Floor, where Lizzie had told Evalyne that Prince Wasim was waiting to be greeted. My office was, apparently, not up to snuff for meetings of this level.
We headed for the Blue Room, where the President greeted visitors he wasn’t greeting at the steps of the White House. The significance of the location wasn’t lost on me. Hopefully the significance of the President not being here would be impressed upon Wasim.
“Any suggestions?” I asked Evalyne as we neared the doorway.
“Please don’t give anyone any reason to shoot a gun.”
“That’s it? That’s your advice?”
“For you? Yes.” She jerked her head at the four dudes on my Secret Service detail, who all headed into the room before us. She also spoke into her Matrix-style headset that all the Secret Service had. “Cyclone is joining Comet in the Blue section of the Crown. Is Cosmos still with Playboy?”
I was close enough to her, and my hearing had been enhanced enough, that I could hear the response from Joseph, the head of Jeff’s detail. “Yes. Cosmos, Playboy, and entourage are all in the Big Cement Mixer.” Meaning they were going back in the LSR. Okay, that was good. Hopefully. “Big Momma is with Cosmos.” Meaning my mother. So all was good. Mom would handle anything Jeff and Chuckie couldn’t.
Pity she wasn’t willing to handle what I had to.
We stepped into the room. Like so many around here, it was an oval and decorated in Early American Stuffiness. And, true to its name, the dominant color was blue. If I didn’t pay attention to the people in the room. Because the dominant clothing choice color was black.
This wasn’t unusual, since I was so used to the Armani Fatigues. However, people wore other colors to the White House and I’d kind of gotten used to seeing some of them, other than my iced blue. But security personnel tended to be traditionalists, and the ones with the kid I presumed was Wasim were traditional to the core.
There were ten of them, and they were all in business suits that fit them far better than most of the suits our Secret Service were wearing, meaning they were undoubtedly paid a whole lot more. They were all also big, mean looking, and clearly armed. This was technically a protocol breach of the highest order, but presumably Walter had given the Bahrainis special dispensation.
My people were on one side of the room, the big security guys were around
Wasim on the other side. And Mona, Khalid, Jakob, Oren, and Leah were sort of in the middle of the two. The way we’d entered the room put us across from Mona and her contingent.
Kyle was standing in front of Colette and Mrs. Maurer, Len was in front of Lizzie, Abner was behind her, and Vance was sort of out in front, just barely, standing between the boys. Khalid was next to Mona, with Mossad behind them, but in position to react without hitting Mona or Khalid if necessary.
Wasim’s bodyguards had Wasim nearest to the front, with two bodyguards within arm’s reach of him and the rest spread out behind these two in a circular formation. It gave them a pretty unobstructed view of the room.
The room was definitely set up in an antagonistic way, only we weren’t the antagonists. Could see why Lizzie was doing her best to advise everyone to come in with guns, if not blazing, at least set to stun.
Stopped walking and my security teams spread out, Evalyne and Phoebe staying near me, while the others moved to points around the room. Manfred went behind my team, Daniel, Joshua, Lucas, and Marcus went behind Wasim’s section, and my four male Secret Service agents were at each point in the oval, so to speak, meaning we had five security personnel behind Wasim’s people. They didn’t seem fazed.
As I stopped walking, Mona flashed me a smile. “Your Majesty, may I please introduce Prince Wasim of Bahrain?” She curtsied to me, then bowed toward Wasim, her hand outstretched toward him.
Noted how I’d been introduced, heaved an internal sigh, and went into Queen Katherine Mode. I bowed my head toward Wasim. “We’re pleased to have you visit us.”
Wasim bowed back. “I’m honored to meet Queen Katherine, whom my beloved grandfather, King Raheem of Bahrain, holds in the highest of esteem.”
“And we hold King Raheem in the same esteem.” Looked closely at the bodyguards. They reminded me a lot of Khalid in certain ways. “We are also happy to welcome members of the Bahraini Royal Army to the White House.”
Every one of them looked surprised, then quickly wiped those expressions off their faces. Interesting. Raheem seemed to really enjoy tests. Wasn’t sure who was being tested this time—me, Wasim, Mona, or the bodyguards. If I was a betting girl, and I was, my money would be on all of us.
The security team didn’t do anything, though, including say “thank you.” Clearly Lizzie hadn’t overstated anything.
Looked back at Wasim. He was taller than Lizzie, but only just. Slender, with black hair worn in a rather shaggy style that did only a few rock stars favors. He had none of the teddy bear look his grandfather had. He was pretty cute, or would be if he had a better hairstyle and wasn’t in totally geeky coke-bottle glasses that did nothing to enhance his features.
Though he was wearing clothing I knew to be both fashionable and extremely expensive, he didn’t look comfortable in them and they, therefore, didn’t look that great on him. He also didn’t give off the spoiled rich kid air I’d been expecting. He did remind me of someone, though. Someone I’d known most of my life and someone Raheem knew, too. Another likely reason he’d been sent here.
“Your bodyguards are either deaf and mute, or else they don’t understand the proper protocols when they’re welcomed somewhere.” Looked back at the security dudes. “Or else they’re being rude on purpose. A course of action I don’t recommend.” Turned back to Wasim and raised an eyebrow.
He gave me a nervous smile. “I’m sure they don’t want to appear presumptuous.”
Looked at my Middle Eastern Contingent out of the corner of my eye. Mona had a pleasant look plastered on her face, Khalid was stone-faced but his eyes were narrowed, Jakob and Oren looked similar to Khalid. They were all looking at Wasim and his bodyguards.
But Leah was looking at me.
Turned my head just slightly toward her. Clearly she’d been waiting for this, because she put her thumb and forefinger up to her nostrils, in a way that looked like she was gently rubbing her nose. But it was also the way someone would do to hold their nostrils closed against a bad odor.
Took this to mean she felt that something was stinking here. Agreed.
Stepped forward and got right in front of the bodyguard I took to be the one in charge, based on him being the biggest and closest in proximity to Wasim. “I don’t think that’s actually the case, Wasim. Is it?” I asked the man I was looking up at.
He made eye contact with me and shrugged his massive shoulders. “You aren’t our Queen.” He got a lot of contempt into those four words.
Worked for me.
Because Akiko really understood how I rolled, this dress looked skintight but it had a lot of stretch. Which was good, since I slammed my knee up into Mr. Not My Queen’s groin.
He hadn’t been expecting it. Nor was he expecting my rising elbow strike to hit his chin as he buckled from my groin strike.
I’d done all this at hyperspeed, so the rest of them weren’t expecting me to grab Mr. Not My Queen and toss him at the rest of them as hard as nonhumanly possible. They were all heading for me, and they all went down like bowling pins.
All but one. That one had been near to the back. He’d leapt forward and tackled Wasim and had the kid shielded entirely with his own body.
“Based on my human bowling expertise, I want us to start a White House Bowling League. You guys can fight over who gets me on their team.”
“Noted, and the Secret Service team calls dibs,” Evalyne said. Risked a fast look around the room. Yep, all the Secret Service agents, my A-C agents, Len and Kyle, and the Middle Eastern Contingent other than Mona had their guns drawn and aimed at the guards on the ground. So much for Evalyne’s request. “If any of you make a move toward the Queen Regent we’ll shoot you dead.”
“What she said. The nine on the floor are to go back to Bahrain on the next flight out of town, to not pass go, to not collect any kinds of dollars, and to explain to King Raheem that they were too busy being disrespectful to me to protect Prince Wasim. The one who actually did his job can stay with my blessing.”
The guards who were getting to their feet all looked at Mona. “What the Queen Regent says goes,” Mona said. “You will return in dishonor. And we will ensure that the King knows of this before you’ve even left the White House grounds.”
“Already done,” Mrs. Maurer said. Mona and I both looked at her. She shrugged. “King Raheem is one of your dearest friends. I wanted to reassure him that his grandson had arrived safely. Then the bodyguards started acting aggressive. I shared that with him. He’s not pleased,” she said to the men who were now mostly standing again. “But he thanks Queen Katherine for spotting traitors he thought were loyal.”
“We are loyal,” Mr. Not My Queen said as he was helped up by two of the others. “But we’re loyal to our royal family. Not you and yours.”
“Pity. Because, as near as I can tell, your king doesn’t feel that way.”
“No, dear, he does not. King Raheem is disappointed. Very disappointed indeed. In a very medieval way, as near as I can interpret from his replies.” Mrs. Maurer managed to make this threat sound almost sweet. I was impressed.
Looked around the room while I pondered this particular situation. “You know, I realize that this is a fancy-schmancy room. But my understanding is that it’s the most redecorated room in the entire complex. I wonder if that’s because people tend to get shot in here for being overly rude and immensely stupid?”
“Potentially,” Evalyne replied as the nine bodyguards looked around, clearly determining who they could grab as a hostage or similar. “As the Queen Regent said, this room gets redecorated frequently. It’s in the budget, so don’t test us, because we’re all ready to shoot you dead and take the thanks of your King for saving him from having to do this himself.”
My pondering came to a conclusion. And that conclusion was that normal bodyguards didn’t pull stunts like this. They were paid to do a job, and I knew for a fact their jo
b hadn’t been to disrespect me and piss me off. And yet the eight backing Mr. Not My Queen didn’t seem even remotely surprised about this turn of events. The dude with Wasim, who was still covering the kid, was the only one who looked like he hadn’t expected any of this to happen.
Looked back at Mr. Not My Queen. “You’re a True Believer, aren’t you?”
He jerked. Just a bit. The rest of them did, too. Other than the one still covering Wasim. His eyes widened. In horror, if I was any judge. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mr. Not My Queen said.
Khalid went to the one good security dude and Wasim and moved them behind the Mossad agents. All their guns were still aimed at the other guards and I knew all four of them were ready to shoot to kill. It was nice to have protective friends.
“Sure you don’t. Nancy, please let King Raheem know that his security forces have been infiltrated by Club Fifty-One True Believers. Manfred, I want A-C Field teams to be with King Raheem on the highest of alerts by the time Nancy’s done texting. Mona, please have someone verify that your embassy is not also infiltrated. Com on!”
“Already on, My Queen Regent.” Walter sounded like he’d been waiting all his life to use that title for me. Possibly he had. “Phoebe advised me that I should be listening in. William has already sent teams to Dulles to check on their security footage.” William was Walter’s older brother and the most powerful imageer after Christopher and the current Head of Imageering, Serene Dwyer. He was also in charge of Dulce Security, meaning he was the Head of Security for all of Centaurion Division. “I imagine we’re going to find out very curious things.”
“I imagine we are, too.” My bet was on us finding footage of these guys meeting up with a Christopher-Bot, but I was willing to be surprised and discover they’d met up with other enemies of ours, either instead of or in addition to. Why limit our enemies, right?
“King Raheem is confirmed as being under Centaurion protection,” Manfred said as the room filled with A-C Field Teams who disarmed the security forces.