Camp Alien (51 page)

“His name is Cody Boyd, and he was on general rotation,” Raj said, texting away. “Confirming his status and his past week's schedule with Joseph and Rob.”

“Okay, barring them saying he was never in the Embassy, he's the one who took those pictures. He was far too willing to shoot me, and dedicated or not, shooting someone in a bathrobe with the Presidential Seal on it says Trigger Happy Loose Cannon or Stealth Assassin.”

“Confirmed,” Raj said. “He was in the Embassy on duty yesterday. The past few days, really. He was one of those coming and going with the kids. He'd requested night guard duty, too, and was given it because the Secret Service is all hands on deck due to this administration's penchant for taking the fight to your enemies directly.”

“Fabulous and blah, blah, blah. This is proof that he damn well knew who I was. Also, I'm sure that he wanted night duty to help the Crystal Maurer android get onto the White House grounds safely and cover her escape if she was caught. Christopher may be able to confirm the timestamp, so to speak, if this wasn't tampered with.”

“Doesn't matter if it was,” Jeff said. “That makes sense. Where is Boyd now?” he asked Raj.

Raj was staring at his phone. Jeff cleared his throat meaningfully. Raj sort of jerked. “Sorry. Just having to process this.”

“Why?” I asked flatly.

Raj looked up and he looked shaken. “Because he's gone.”

W
E ALL STARED AT RAJ.
“What do you mean, gone?” Chuckie asked finally.

“I mean Boyd was put into lockup per the President's instructions. This morning, when someone came to give him breakfast, he was gone. The cell and facility were searched. No sign of him.”

“I'd complain that no one told me this,” Jeff said, “but I honestly think that it could have been the last straw for my sanity if I'd learned this even an hour ago.”

Patted Jeff's hand. He moved at hyperspeed and grabbed my hand before I could take it away. Decided that I'd basically forgiven him anyway and let him hold onto it. Interestingly enough, not only Jeff, but Chuckie and Reader relaxed a bit.

“So, he was equipped with an off and on invisibility shield, which, trust me, Stephanie's team has, most likely courtesy of the Tinkerer. He switched it on when he heard food arriving, and sauntered out while they were searching for him. And now I'm willing to say that he's the sniper on the roof. Though Casey Jones should not be counted out of the running in terms of participation.”

“It makes sense.” Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to know, Kitty—are you still speaking to us beyond formal meetings?”

Camilla nudged my foot, but she didn't have to give me the suggestion. Let go of Jeff's hand, got up, and went around the table. Hugged Chuckie. He clutched at me. “The beauty of being best friends since ninth grade is that we can get mad at each other and still love each other and get over it.”

Let go of him and hugged Reader. Also got clutched. Felt kind of bad now. “No one can stay mad at the hottest guy in the world forever, James, no worries.”

Straightened up and looked at Jeff, who looked extremely hopeful but still worried. “You I'll make up with once the kids are in bed.”

A look of relief washed across his face as he grinned. “I'll hold you to that, baby.”

“Good. So, what are our next steps, besides dinner, which I was not joking about wanting, and watching videos of our potential political troublemakers, which I was also not joking about.”

“I'm putting the protocols back in place,” Jeff said. “Though if you and Camilla have thoughts on that, let me know.”

“My thought is turn them back on right now,” Camilla replied. “Because who knows how many of our people are dead because of this situation.”

Raj pulled out a phone that didn't look like a phone I'd ever seen before. He made a call, then handed the phone to Jeff. “This is Bravo One. Revert to systems.” He was quiet. “Yes. Confirmed. Yes. Immediately, please.” He handed the phone back to Raj, who finished up with whoever.

“So, I can use the old codes?” Camilla asked.

“Everyone can. I've also authorized that all areas that had someone calling in using the old codes should send backup now.”

“Hopefully that will work,” Chuckie said.

“Field teams are also being requested for those areas,” Raj said, as he hung up. “Other than Kitty and Camilla, agents calling in for anything other than routine checkpoints were few. We should be able to get to those who did call in for backup or extraction quickly. And yes, I'll advise if anyone was compromised unduly.”

“I'm going to Camp David tomorrow,” Chuckie said quickly, presumably to keep me from asking what they considered an undue compromise. “Taking Alpha Team and a variety of other security personnel with me. We want to be sure that the area is prepped and safe. We'll stay there overnight, so we're there when you and the rest of the dignitaries get there.”

“Said dignitaries are flying in tonight,” Raj said. “We can
get away with letting them rest up tomorrow, but that's why we have to get things rolling the next day.”

“Where are they sleeping?”

“Blair House, where all foreign dignitaries stay. We don't have room for them in the White House right now, and we can't show favoritism by letting one into the Lincoln Bedroom and not the other.”

“Considering Mossad thinks there's something off about them, I think Blair House is plenty close enough.”

Staff with food came in now, and we ate. First Camilla and I donned our Recap Girl capes and filled the guys in on everything that they'd missed. Camilla went first, filling us in on what had happened to her and the princesses. She felt that the androids had been prepared to find her and the princesses at Drax's, though no one was certain how they'd known to look. The assumption was that Stephanie knew Camilla was a double agent and figured she'd be there.

I picked up where she left off, giving them the other prisoners' recollections as well as the high-level for what we'd done and where we'd done it. Neither one of us was actually trying to make the men feel bad again, but we definitely were succeeding without effort by the time I was done with the full day's report.

Suggested we watch the stuff Mossad had sent over while we ate dessert in hopes that it would, somehow, make everyone feel better. Couldn't say with any kind of confidence if there was something funny about the two leaders or not. Imageering had already tried reading the images, but they were digital and no one got anything. Not for the first time I cursed Cliff and his cronies for releasing whatever they had onto our people and taking away most of our imageers' talents.

Asked White, Abigail, Mahin, and Adriana to join us, mostly because we'd all seen a lot of androids in action recently. Tim and Serene came with them, presumably to help out, versus to keep me from getting mad again. Buchanan also joined us. Jeff pointedly didn't tell him to leave or act annoyed toward Buchanan or anything. Wasn't sure if this was good or bad, so chose to not worry about it. There was so much else to worry about, after all.

No one else felt that they could tell much, though White paid particular attention to eyes and hairlines. However,
comparisons to older pictures showed that the men looked pretty much as they always had.

We were about to give up when Chuckie got a call. He stepped out to take it while the dishes were cleared. Chef had done himself proud again and I finally felt full, which was nice.

“So, while we wait for Chuckie to come back, let's try to wrap up some loose puzzles. First one, any guesses as to why Crystal Maurer was breaking into the White House?”

“To make you a sitting duck for Boyd?” Jeff suggested.

“No way. Who could have known that you and I would be in the Oval Office, in the dark, at that time?”

“Anyone who knows you,” Reader said. “Oh, sorry, was that my Out Loud Voice?”

“It was, and I see you're feeling better about yourself. But let's be honest—there was no way to predict that we'd be in there and would chase whoever broke in out. There was no reason to think anyone would be there.”

“Then why was Boyd ready to shoot you?” Jeff asked.

“Convenience,” Tim answered. “For all we know he was supposed to kill her at another time and you two just made yourselves easy targets. He could kill her and claim ignorance, that he couldn't see clearly in the dark, whatever. Maybe he thought he'd win points with Stephanie or whoever that way.”

“Sounds right to me.” It did. Boyd was too well equipped for escape to think otherwise.

“Are you certain it was Crystal Maurer who broke in?” Jeff asked. “You think Casey Jones is involved, too, and, frankly, we have plenty of women who are willing to do whatever for Cliff. Or Stephanie, I guess.”

“I'm sure Chuckie thinks Cliff is behind all of this, and will do until we have Cliff incarcerated or a dead body that's really his to show off. My question isn't if I think Cliff's involved—I don't, because I'm sure that Stephanie's behind this and I'm equally sure that she's no longer working for or with him.” Plus, Algar had told me Cliff wasn't involved. Not that I could share this. “My question is—why have anyone break into the Oval Office to begin with?”

“To plant bugs?” Tim suggested. “Why is that the loose end you want to focus on? Nothing blew up, nothing was taken, nothing was left.”

“Most likely, again, because Jeff and I were there.”

Buchanan nodded slowly. “It's a good question. The intruder seemed . . . benign. While Goodman might have been willing to be hidden before, now everyone knows he's the Mastermind. Why bother with finesse? If you can get an invisible person into the White House, why not kill everyone and be done with it?”

“Same with Stephanie.”

“No,” Adriana said. “She and Cliff are no longer the same.”

“What do you mean?” Jeff asked. “Technically they're both domestic terrorists.”

“Not really in the same way. Stephanie is a traitor to your people, but in her mind, she's following in her father's and great-grandfather's footsteps. Cliff is looking only for power. Stephanie is also not willing to pretend. Cliff lied to Charles for years because he enjoyed that kind of game. But Stephanie has made it quite clear that she hates all of you, and anyone who likes you.”

“You think Stephanie wants us to know it's her,” Buchanan said.

Adriana nodded. “From all I've seen, this is more her style. It's not Cliff's. Besides, normally after a defeat of the magnitude that the Mastermind experienced, it would be expected that he'd go somewhere to lick his wounds, regroup, and plan anew. At least, that's what Grandmother said.”

“Huh. I did hurt Cliff.”

“Yes, we watched on television. Grandmother was quite impressed.”

“You hit him with something, before he got onto that chopper,” Tim said. “We
all
saw it on the news and the corresponding continuous loops that the news media played.”

“So bitter. Yeah, I had those used hypodermics in my purse. I rammed four of them into his butt.” Hard.

Serene looked thoughtful. “Used hypos? Was it the adrenaline you carry for Jeff? And used on whom?”

“Yes, adrenaline that I carry with me, and they were used on me, Tim, Siler, the Dingo and Surly Vic. Siler, the Dingo, and Surly Vic were all infected with the bioweapon.” No way in hell I was willingly calling it the Alien Flu, not even just among us.

“Interesting.” Serene looked thoughtful. “We don't have enough data to be sure, however.”

“Want to share? Or are you waiting for Chuckie?”

“No, I can share now. We don't reuse needles because they can spread infectious diseases. It's why so many intravenous drug users get horrible illnesses—they're sharing dirty needles. Disease is also really happy to travel through the blood stream.”

She sounded like she was finished. “And?” Hoped I'd asked that in a FLOTUS versus a Queen Kitty way, but couldn't tell if I'd managed it.

“Oh! Sorry. I thought it was obvious.”

“Most of us didn't get our medical degrees in grade school, Serene.”

She laughed. “Gotcha. Okay, you said you had five spent needles and hit him with four?”

“At least five were used, yeah. Kind of blurry on the events right now.”

“Not a problem. All the needles were contaminated, and at least three of them had been inside people with the disease.”

“Kitty and I had symptoms,” Tim said. “Pretty sure we were infected by that time, too.”

“Even better. So you hit Cliff with four dirty needles that had been inside people with the disease.”

“I'm not getting it, other than that he probably can't sit comfortably right now. Cliff gave himself the vaccine.”

“Yes, but while that's great, there's now the DNA of those who were injected on those needles. Any diseases you have would transfer. Cliff took the vaccine, but that doesn't mean it's able to fight off what would be four different blood samples, all infected in some way.”

Chuckie chose this moment to return. “Interesting development. Homeland Security sent me a missing person report this morning, seeing as it was something they'd planned to pass to the CIA anyway and just were waiting for whoever was taking over to get named. The report was verified by the FBI and confirmed by operatives in Cuba and Florida.”

“Well, we're trying to figure out the small stuff right now, so your timing's good. So, who besides me and our folks got snatched?”

“A Doctor Tagle.”

“Never heard of him.” Looked around. No one else appeared to have heard of him, either.

“I'm not surprised. He's the top infectious disease physician in Cuba. Considered one of the best in the world.”

“Sounds like people in Cuba or those who are very sick should be looking for him, then.”

“And I'd like to know why Homeland Security or the FBI care about this,” Jeff added.

“They care because he was known to work for underworld figures and politicians the U.S. doesn't like, if the price was right.”

“Willing to bet cash money that when you guys find him he'll be using Cliff Goodman's money.”