Alien vs. Alien (28 page)

CHAPTER 49

“I
SUPPOSE TAKING A GATE IS OUT,”
Tito said.

“I think we want to be able to get away. And I don’t even know if anyone would give us a floater gate without Alpha Team’s permission, especially since we’re not in any danger we know of.” And I was positive Alpha Team wouldn’t give said permission.

“My car is down the street,” Armstrong said.

“How trustworthy is your driver?” Buchanan asked.

Armstrong shrugged. “Yesterday I’d have said completely. Today, I have no idea.”

“We could take one of our limos and be on our way.” My worry about Jeff and Chuckie grew. I sent a text to Jeff, asking him where he was and what he was doing.

“I don’t want to leave my driver,” Armstrong said. “Not only is Evan unprotected, but we have no idea how long he’ll be sitting in the street, waiting for me to return.”

“And if he’s loyal to the senator, or merely unaware of what’s going on, he’s in danger,” White added.

“If you tell him to go home and he’s working with our enemies, then it’ll tip them off,” Buchanan said.

“Mister Joel Oliver went off to do distraction duty.” No answer from Jeff. Sent a text to Chuckie.

“That doesn’t mean they followed him,” Buchanan said patiently. “And it also doesn’t mean there was only one person or team watching us. We have to assume we’re still being watched.”

“Fine. In that case, let me remind you that our limos have special extras installed.”

“But the senator’s limo will be less obvious,” Buchanan countered.

“You want us in a car without a laser shield, Malcolm?” I wasn’t sure I wanted us in a car without a laser shield. Especially since Chuckie hadn’t answered, either.

Buchanan looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I do. Senator, please tell your driver to pull into the Embassy’s parking garage so that we can all load in unobtrusively.”

“If there’s a bomb in that limo, then that’s what they want.”

“I understand why you’re worried about that, Missus Chief. However, while we were in Florida, some special equipment was installed in the garage.”

“How special?”

“Spot-any-and-all-of-the-bad-things-put-into-the-vehicles special. Some of it’s experimental, but it’s A-C experimental.”

“How do you know about all this? You were in Florida with us.”

He gave me a look I could only think of as pained. “Yes. I was. We weren’t cut off from all communications.”

“Oh. Good point. I’m distracted.”

“Use whatever excuse makes you happy, Missus Chief. Senator, let’s get your man into the garage.”

While Senator Armstrong called his driver, Buchanan went upstairs to make sure Walter had all the new garage scanning equipment up and running, and I checked my phone. Still no reply from either Jeff or Chuckie.

“You look worried,” White said.

“I am worried. I sent texts to Jeff and Chuckie, and they haven’t replied. Now I’m wondering if I should call them.”

“It might set your mind at ease,” White offered.

“It might disrupt them at a bad time, too.”

“And it might give them a chance to tell you not to go to the Festival,” Tito added.

“Oh, Tito, good point. I’ll wait until we’re actually at the Mall to call in a panic.”

“You work well under pressure,” Buchanan said as he rejoined us. “Walter cleared the senator’s limo—it’s clean inside though he mentioned it could use a trip to the carwash. However, dirty cars aren’t a crime, and there’s nothing dangerous in the dirt, so let’s get to the garage.”

“We can test the dirt?”

“Amazing, isn’t it? What
will
those crazy kids from Alpha Four think up next?”

“You’re in an interesting mood.” I looked at his expression. “What sneaky thing are you planning, Malcolm?”

“You wound me, Missus Chief. And disappoint me.”

“You mean you’re upset that I haven’t already figured it out yet. Fine. Let’s get Jeff’s beloved parrot and get moving.”

The temptation to leave Bellie at the Embassy and thus make her Walter’s problem, regardless of Jeff’s likely reaction to the idea, was strong. Despite the presence of some of the Peregrines, she’d clearly regained her nerve and normal personality.

Bellie refused to sit on my shoulder. She refused to let me touch her. She freaked out at Buchanan, screaming that she belonged to Jeff. She almost took Armstrong’s hand off, even though she’d cawed his name out as though they were long lost besties—he escaped losing fingers to the Beak of Doom only because Buchanan pulled him back at the last moment. She tried the same with Tito, but he’d learned and kept himself far enough away that Bellie missed taking off his hand by a wide margin.

No, the avian beast only deigned to sit on White’s shoulder. I took this to mean Bellie was aware of who the highest-ranking male was in whatever room she was in and, since she clearly had her standards, would only be with him.

Once our horrible parrot was taken care of, Buchanan headed for the stairway that took us down to the garage, which was not the stairway that took us down to the basement. Bellie was mercifully silent, no doubt because White was giving her a lot of attention and more than a few bird treats.

“So, Malcolm, what’s our plan?”

“I’m thinking we go duck hunting.”

The other men stared at him. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure I knew what he meant. “You want to use Armstrong’s limo as a decoy.”

“That’s actually a good idea,” Tito said approvingly.

“How does that prevent Evan from telling our enemies, if he’s in fact a spy of some kind?” Armstrong asked.

“Oh, I don’t care if he’s a spy,” Buchanan said. “Because we’re going to give him an assignment. Senator, make sure you sell it in a way he’ll believe.”

“Sell what? I don’t know your plan.”

“Malcolm wants you to sell whatever he’s going to say as truth in advertising.”

“Actually,” Buchanan said with a grin, “I want you to tell him, Missus Chief.”

“Figures. So what am I telling him to do? Pretend he has all of us in the limo as a decoy and drive to the senator’s offices so the bad guys think we’re going there when we are, in fact, going to Andrews Air Force Base to warn of imminent alien attack?”

“See? I knew you’d figure it all out, Missus Chief.”

“That could work,” Armstrong said slowly. “Either he’ll lead another tail off and away, or he’ll tell our enemies that we’re
heading to Andrews. Either way, more of our enemies are somewhere other than around us and potentially more confused.” Tito and White both nodded their agreement.

“Really? If I’d come up with this without Malcolm leading the way, right now, at this very moment, you’d all be telling me I was crazy and that it’d never work.”

“Oh, we didn’t say it wasn’t crazy,” Tito said.

“We also didn’t say it would work, merely that it could,” White added. “You know, Missus Martini—like most of our plans.”

“And it really does sound like a plan of yours, Kitty,” Tito added.

“Because it
is
a plan of mine. I just laid it out, Malcolm didn’t.”

Buchanan clapped me on the shoulder. “Great plan, there, Missus Chief. Let’s see how it works.”

I heaved a sigh as we headed for Armstrong’s limo. “Malcolm, I’m seriously considering the benefits of hating you right now.”

“Good. That’ll make your husband happy.”

CHAPTER 50

I
COULDN’T TELL IF ARMSTRONG’S DRIVER
was on his side or an evil bad guy, but Evan seemed clear on his duties and drove off as requested.

“How do we tell if he’s doing what we want or not?”

“We don’t care,” Buchanan replied. “We need to focus on the important things, like what’s really going on and where your husband and Reynolds are.”

Buchanan went to one of our regular limos. We had several—enough to evacuate the entire Embassy via car if necessary. Buchanan chose one without a car seat in it; he got behind the wheel, Tito took shotgun, and the rest of us climbed into the back.

“Kyle always gets the door.”

“I’m a doctor,” Tito shared. “If you’re hurt, I’ll get the door for you. Otherwise, I thought you were an emancipated woman.”

“I am. I’m also saying that shotgun gets the doors. It’s in the A-C Limo Handbook. I mean, dude, Christopher got the doors when I first met these guys when he had shotgun, and he was the Head of Imageering at the time. You’re saying you’re too good to get the door?”

“No. I’m saying that Christopher was clearly trying to impress you. I’m not.”

“He has a point,” White mentioned.

I snorted. “I remember my first introductions to your son. His version of ‘impress’ and mine differ.”

“Hence why you’re happily married to my nephew.”

“Speaking of whom.” I checked my phone. Nothing. From Jeff or Chuckie. This boded. I couldn’t believe both of them would ignore my “I’m worried, where are you?” texts, at least not willingly.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Armstrong asked.

“We’re waiting,” Buchanan replied. “To give whoever’s following your driver time to get out of range. Or to let him call and advise the bad guys that we’re actually heading to Andrews.”

“Should we have the laser shield on?”

“You’re jumpy.” Buchanan turned around and gave me a searching look. His expression softened. “We’ll find them. I promise.” He turned back and turned on the stereo. “Watching the Detectives” by Elvis Costello came on.

While we waited and Elvis crooned in his hipster way, I sent texts to Naomi and Abigail. They answered pretty quickly. “Per Mimi and Abby, there’s been a lot of little skirmishes that our agents have controlled. The Mall’s packed, so it’s hard to pick anyone out. They’re under orders to pay attention to assassination-type thoughts, and there are so many people there they can’t actually spare the focus to look for Jeff or Chuckie.”

Or, per Naomi, to fill me in on everything going on. She insinuated that my presence would be a good idea, though. At least if I took “you coming to find them probably would be a good idea” to mean she wanted me there. Which I did.

We had time for “Dirty Dˀo fieeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC and “Round and Round” by Aerosmith to finish before Buchanan drove off. We left the garage to the sounds of Soundgarden’s “Fell on Black Days.” I really hoped the song wasn’t going to turn out to be prophetic.

By now, my anxiety was such that I’d expect Jeff to call. I’d sent several texts to him, and he hadn’t replied, so I wasn’t trying to hide my emotions from him.

Decided to call Amy while we drove in an unhurried manner toward the Mall section of D.C. “Hey, Kitty, what’s up?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing, Ames.”

“All quiet here.”

“Really? I hear what I could politely call a commotion.”

“I meant figuratively, as in nothing’s happening, no one has attacked, and it’s quiet and boring. And what you’re hearing isn’t a commotion so much as what it’s like here right now, which is sort of like being in Grand Central Station at rush hour. What are you up to?”

“We’re heading to the International One World Festival. Anything you want to tell me before we get there?”

“Yeah. Hang on.” Amy was quiet for a few moments, but I could still hear the sounds of a lot of people around her. “Sorry, had to get away from Christopher without him noticing. Lorraine and Claudia and I agreed that whoever you called first would tell you about all the things that’ve been kept from you.”

“Good. And thanks.”

“It makes no sense that you’re not told, and, frankly, while I get that Chuck’s job is in peril if you know, I think more will be in peril if you don’t know.”

“Chuckie included.”

“Right. So, anyway, while we were in Florida, a lot of terrorist threats were identified, focused on the Festival.”

“Okay, we figured that out. And that’s why the Bahraini and Israeli Embassies are extra hyper about the break-in and subsequent accusations.”

“Yes, only . . . there’s more. The terrorist organization that’s popped the most is supposedly defunct.”

My brain had the ability to move at lightning speed at times, and this was one of those times. “The Al Dejahl terrorist organization is back in action, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why everyone views this as a threat to me. Because I took out Ronaldo Al Dejahl and was the main reason Ronnie Junior had to take to the stars to escape.” Which was why Claudia and Lorraine were set on telling me. Because they knew I’d be safer prepared.

“Right. Kitty, be careful. Remember in Paris—my dad and his insane friends thought Jamie could teleport herself to Jeff in order to save him. If any of them are behind this, they’ll be willing to try that on you, too. And we don’t know if they’re right or not.”

“ACE won’t let Jamie do it.”

“You
hope
. You don’t know.”

“True.” I took a deep breath. “This helps, Ames, thanks. Is there anything else?”

“Yes. So far as anyone’s told me, my wicked stepmother and her boyfriend aren’t back on the planet.”

“Do you believe that information?”

“I don’t know. I find it hard to believe everyone would have left us in Florida with so little protection if LaRue was known to be back.”

“Good point. Okay, we’re almost there. I’ll check in when I can.”

“Do. I’ll text if I learn anything else.”

“You’re the best Ames. Hang in there.” We hung up as “M.I.A.” by the Foo Fighters came on. This song was definitely prophetic. Maybe we needed to focus on Boy Band Pop for a while, just to get things back to a more positive audio atmosphere.

“Did I hear you correctly?” White asked quietly.

“Sadly, yes.” I contemplated what I could say in front of Armstrong and went with the plan that I’d worry about him being our main problem later. I shared Amy’s intel. “So, the reason they don’t want me here is to protect me. Sweet, isn’t it?”

“You know our enemies know you,” Tito said. “And the fastest way to get you out of hiding is to threaten Jeff, or Reynolds, for that matter.”

“Any of you,” Buchanan corrected as we reached the Mall area. “She’s not good at hiding out when people she knows are in danger.”

“It’s a weakness they’re exploiting,” Armstrong said.

“They get to win this battle, then.” But not the war. I’d never let them win that.