Alien in the House (36 page)

T
HE OTHERS HEADED DOWNSTAIRS.
I left the briefcase from Reader with Amy and the hackers, but told them not to go through it until I was back. For whatever reason, I wanted to be there when we went through everything. It was a gut thing, so I didn't argue with myself.

Headed to our rooms to grab Jeff's new trench and fedora and my coat. Took a moment while I gathered these to relax and try to center myself. This wasn't one of my go-to skills. When it came to focusing on the Inner Me, I was best with doing so in order to rev up to kick butt.

Opened my purse to make sure my Glock and a few clips were in it and saw the stuffed eagle from Reyes' office. Decided it had seen enough action and put it with the briefcase. As I did I noted that it was a stuffed hand puppet. “I'm going to keep this, if it's okay with you, Santiago,” I said softly. “I can play with it with Jamie and that way we have something of you with us always.”

Eagle out, extra clips in, no Poofs at all. “Poofies? Any Poofies?” Nary a mew or a whiff of a bundle of cuteness. Hoped this wasn't indicating bad news. “Peregrines able to report, please assemble.”

Harold appeared. And only Harold.

“Bruno's not back?”

Got some cawing, ground scratching, and head shaking. Bruno was still on the case, being supported by a lot of Poofs. The rest of the Poofs, along with all the female Peregrines, were guarding Jamie and the kids. The male Peregrines were stationed strategically throughout the complex. Harold, however, was going to come along and fill in for Bruno, in case someone again tried to kill Jeff or me.

“You'll be in stealth mode?” I asked as I gave him a nice scritchy-scratch between his wings.

Affirmative. Harold disappeared from view. I only knew he was there because I was touching him.

“Super. Going to do my best to forget you're there. I'm getting the impression that's how all of you prefer it.”

Harold squawked his approval about me being totally on board with Peregrine Thought Patterns. Thusly armed and accompanied, I headed downstairs. Time was of the essence, so I used hyperspeed.

Checked the first floor, but found no one, which wasn't too surprising. Was all kinds of proud of how well I was doing with the control, as I headed down to the basement.

Fortunately Jeff was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and he caught and stopped me from barreling right through him and into everyone else and the wall. Clearly I'd self-congratulated a little prematurely.

Jeff chuckled. “I'm not wearing the hat and coat right now, we're going via gate.”

“I still want them along.”

“Whatever makes you happy, baby.”

Everyone leaving the Embassy was going via the gate, so pretty much everyone in the Embassy was down here. “Doreen and Irving are meeting you there,” Christopher said. “She just called me. Naomi and Abigail are staying with the kids at the Pontifex's Residence.” He grimaced. “Naomi's using the time to figure out which kids will be doing what at her wedding.”

“Good use of time. I guess. Is Kevin still there, too?”

He nodded. “And Michael's there now, also. Caroline's feeling better and she had to work. Gladys is there, too, as is your father.”

“Works for me.”

White was manning the gate controls, while Gower explained how gate transferences worked in layman's terms and how they should be considered highly classified information in strictest terms. Vance was vibrating with excitement, Nathalie and Brewer looked concerned but game to try, and Rahmi and Rhee seemed relieved to see me. Pulled them aside.

“Okay, girls, you two are visiting dignitaries. You can identify as princesses, but that's it. No sharing what planet you're from, who your mother is, and so on. You are coming along to be seen but not heard.” They both nodded. “Good. You're also coming along to put that force field of yours around Jeff. Someone's already tried to kill my husband today and I don't want anyone else to try or, worse, succeed.”

Rahmi nodded. “Our mother said you protected the men. We will follow your lead.”

“But where is the Great Tito?” Rhee asked without any form of guile, as Reader took the lead and stepped through the gate.

“Excuse me?”

“We expected that the Great Tito would be going to protect you and your . . . husband,” Rahmi said, trying out the word as if she'd never heard it before. Maybe she hadn't.

“Was the Great Tito killed in battle?” Rhee asked politely, radiating sympathy.

“Ah, no. The Great Tito is a doctor. Our doctor. On staff. He still kicks butt when needed, though.” The princesses looked shocked and sort of horrified. “He's a great doctor.”

“I'm sure he is.” Rahmi looked incredibly disappointed. Rhee looked as if she might burst into tears. Clearly meeting Tito had been top of their list of Awesome Things To Do On Earth.

“He's, ah, guarding one of our warriors who was felled in battle. You two can meet him later, when we're back. Would you, ah, like that?”

Both princesses brightened up immeasurably. “Oh, yes, please!” Rhee said. Rahmi nudged her, no doubt due to her excessive enthusiasm.

“If it would please the Great Tito to meet
us
,” Rahmi said, “we would be incredibly honored.”

“I'm sure it'll make his day.” Tito would probably prefer that someone get him enough information to be able to cure Buchanan, but that didn't seem diplomatic to share right now.

Vance and the Brewers were through. We sent Rahmi, then Gower, then Rhee, so the princesses could flank him, so to speak, with stern admonitions from me that Gower was also to be protected. Chuckie was next, then Len. Jeff and I were next, with Kyle bringing up the rear.

“Uncle Richard, alter for two, please,” Jeff said as he swung me up into his arms.

“It's not exactly a professional look,” Christopher shared.

“Don't care. I don't want this job, my wife had to watch me be gunned down in the street in front of her, and we're going through like this or we're not going.”

“What Jeff said. Double. Good luck to everyone else and please be careful. Christopher, your dad's a better agent than you are, which is not actually an insult, so I'd listen to him while your team's out on Assassin Patrol. Mister White, call if you need me.”

With that I buried my face in Jeff's neck and prepared to get sick to my stomach.

S
INCE DAY ONE
with Centaurion Division, gates had been the bane of my existence. Getting A-C powers hadn't changed that, either. The gates could move you thousands of miles in seconds. And it felt like it.

As Jeff stepped us through, time both sped up and slowed down, and the two met in my stomach. It was lucky that gate transfers were over fast, though they never felt fast to me, because too much time in this state meant what we'd be doing was watching me barf for real, probably on the nearest congressman.

But the horror stopped and I pulled my head out of Jeff's neck. We were in a bathroom. Always the way.

“Seriously, we got let out in a bathroom? Here?”

“Easier to explain,” Jeff said as he put me down and we walked out of the stall. Len was still here, waiting, and Kyle came out right after us.

“We're going to be explaining why I had a foursome with all of you in here, that's what we're going to be explaining.”

Luck was on our side, and the rest of our group had congregated near enough that they were blocking the bathroom door from view. I credited Reader with that move.

“That was interesting,” Brewer said. “We have about three minutes to get to the floor of the House.”

“Do we all go?” I asked as we all scurried off, Brewer in the lead. I wasn't sure at this point.

“You do, for certain. I'd assume your Pontifex should be there, too. The others?” Brewer shrugged. “You can get away with a lot by claiming that it's your alien ways.”

Rahmi caught up to me. “We can guard from a distance,” she said in my ear. “So if we are not to be nearby, we can still assist.”

“Awesome, thanks. Take the rear with Kyle right now, then, please, and thank you. Only attack if someone is pointing a gun or another projectile weapon at anyone in our group. And be sure it's really a weapon.”

The Capitol was a beautiful building, but as with so many beautiful buildings I got to visit, my focus wasn't on getting to enjoy the architecture or the artwork—my focus was on keeping me and my team alive.

“Chuckie, who goes down on the floor besides Jeff, me, and Paul?”

“I think, under the circumstances, Representative Brewer and his wife should.”

Looked at Chuckie's expression. His poker face was on. Now wasn't the time to ask if he wanted Brewer down there for a political reason or because I thought Brewer was a target and therefore would take a bullet intended for Jeff.

Brewer looked incredibly pleased. “Only if you and Jeff think it's appropriate.”

“If Chuck says it's alright, then it's great with me,” Jeff said pleasantly.

Managed not to swallow my tongue with the shock of Jeff being totally reasonable and not arguing with what Chuckie suggested. Figured Jeff was either picking up Chuckie's emotions or didn't want to have a fight with anyone right now. Or both.

“Who else?” I managed to ask without sounding shocked out of my mind.

“Reader is the Pontifex's husband, so he makes sense. I don't, so I'm going to stay with the others. We'll be spread out. Vance will stay with us,” Chuckie added as Vance opened his mouth. “His husband isn't a representative nor a religious leader.”

“What about Doreen and Irving?”

Doreen shook her head. “This isn't a diplomatic thing. We're here to witness and show support, but I think we should be with Chuck and the others.”

Irving nodded. “We'll have a better view of the room, too. Just in case.”

“In case?”

Doreen and Irving exchanged a look. “You are aware that we know that someone tried to kill Jeff earlier today, aren't you?” Doreen asked carefully.

“How did you know? I'm not asking because I wanted to hide the information, but how you found out might be key.”

Doreen shrugged. “We saw it on the news. Thankfully the kids were in the other room, because I think Jamie would have comprehended what we saw.”

“Huh. So, no one announced that Eugene murdered Santiago and then was shot to death inside a SWAT van, but an unsuccessful assassination attempt made the news. Interesting.”

“There's a lot more going on, isn't there?” Irving asked quietly.

“Yeah, there is. We just haven't had time to fill you guys in.” Or time to determine if they were totally trustworthy.

Doreen gave me a long look. She stepped close to me. “I don't blame you for wondering,” she said in a very low voice.

“Wondering?”

“If you can trust me. They were my parents, I was an only child, I could resent what happened to them. But I don't. Just like Amy doesn't. We talk about it a lot, when she and I can get away and be alone, or when one of us wonders why we got stuck with such terrible parents. But when you see your parent for the evil being they truly are, it becomes hard to continue to love them.”

“I know. I'm still sorry about it.” I wasn't sorry we'd killed the Colemans. I was sorry that Doreen lost her parents.

Doreen hugged me. “Don't be. My parents made their choices. I made mine. I chose you, Kitty, and what you believe in and stand for. And I chose you a long time ago. If you don't feel safe filling us in on what's going on, I won't be hurt. But if you want or need to, I promise you, you can trust us to do whatever you need.”

“You're the best, Doreen, thanks,” I said as I hugged her back.

“We need to move,” Brewer said as Doreen and I broke apart. Len took our coats and Jeff's fedora, then the others went up to the balcony area.

“Onward?” Jeff asked. He sounded a little nervous.

“Yes.” Brewer smiled as he opened the door. “It's showtime, Representative Martini. Enjoy the moment.”