Alien Collective (36 page)

T
HE BLUE ROOM WAS AN OVAL,
but Mom managed to get us all into what really felt like a corner. “Who’d like to explain themselves first?” Raj opened his mouth. “Not you,” Mom said. “Or you, Serene. Kitty, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Honestly? I was thinking that the only people who ever seem to tell me the truth without my freaking begging for it or leaping through hoops to get it are assassins. What that says about everyone around me I don’t know, but it’s probably not nice. If you
knew
what was going on, Mom, why the
hell
didn’t
you
tell
me
?”

Mom blinked. I rarely spoke to my mother like this, mostly because Mom was pretty much always right and, since I wasn’t a teenager anymore, rarely upset me. But I was stressed out, worried about Jeff, and my feelings were more than a little hurt. I’d done my best. Sure, not the best everyone was expecting, but in my dream Gladys had said that when top assassins spoke I should listen. Had to figure that had meant more than that I should trust Siler.

Mom sighed. “I’m sorry, kitten. I didn’t know until about five minutes before you went on.”

“Interesting timing. Who contacted you and how?”

“Colonel Franklin found me and briefed me and the President. It’s why we weren’t in the room with you.”

“I received a letter yesterday afternoon, via unconventional means,” Franklin said.

“Unconventional?”

“Carrier pigeon. I wish I was joking but I’m not. This was the message.” He handed me a piece of paper.

From the former to the current, look for signs of ricin gas, this is what A-C bombs destroyed. Home Base infiltrated. Watch your back and everyone else’s.

“Wow, nice to see the kids these days holding onto the old ways and all that.”

Bellie had said Hammy was hiding and should stay hiding. Now, how would she know that, and how would Hamlin get access to carrier pigeons without outside assistance? Clearly, Mister Joel Oliver had some serious sources.

“Obviously Colonel Hamlin is still alive,” Franklin said. “I haven’t tested this for veracity, but I had samples of his handwriting to compare it to and this looks legit. I contacted the F.B.I. and had the investigative team look for ricin, and we kept teams at it around the clock.”

“Who did you call, Evander Horn?” I asked.

“Yes, and he can confirm it, I’m sure.”

So, that’s why Serene and Horn had been targeted to die. Because Horn could back up the tip and it was his team who was doing the main research. Serene had put the team in place that had foiled the toxin attack and she was also in charge of the A-C team that was doing the bomb site work. And Stephanie would have known most or all of this. So our enemies had rolled their plan fast, all things considered, meaning whoever was in charge was a nimble thinker. Meaning the person in charge was probably the Mastermind himself.

“While the toxin was rendered inert,” Franklin went on, “there were traces at almost every bomb site from yesterday. We received conclusive results about an hour ago now. I knew where your mother was going to be, so alerted the President and grabbed her when I had the opportunity.”

“I wish you hadn’t used Centaurion personnel to do the tests,” Mom said.

Gave Serene the hairy eyeball. “Thanks for mentioning that.”

“Need to know,” she said with her Innocent Face going strong. Chose not to argue. Or ask who else on Alpha Team, other than Serene and Team Troubadour, had known about this, mostly because I was fairly sure the answer would be “no one.” I’d save the airing of dirty laundry for when we weren’t in the White House surrounded by reporters and such.

“We did because we had to,” Franklin said. “In cases like this it’s standard procedure, because they can do the testing so much faster than humans can. However, we took steps to ensure that no one could tamper with the evidence. It’ll hold in a court of law, if it comes to that.”

“It’s the court of public opinion that matters right now,” Morgan said.

“I think the people who saved everyone are going to come off as the good guys,” Franklin replied. Hoped he was right.

“So why is everyone mad at me? We saved the day, go us.”

“We’re upset, not mad,” Mom said. “And we’re upset because none of us were prepared for your statement. Politically, you just hung us out to dry.”

“Actually,” Raj said, “I believe the Ambassador ensured that the U.S. government could choose to either support Centaurion Division’s actions or condemn then. We’re hung out to dry, not anyone else.” Managed not to say that Raj was my favorite, but it took effort.

“Go us again. Look, Mom, berate me later. I’m worried about Jeff and Senator Armstrong and everyone else with them. They’re going to be the recipients of any and all backlash and they’re out in the open and . . . I think Jeff’s the main target for all of the whatever that’s going on.”

Mom shook her head. “I’m not berating you. I’m concerned about the fact that you made this announcement in the White House and you didn’t let the President know you were going to do it. Protocol exists for a reason.” Her expression softened. “Sadly, you and Jeff are targets far too frequently.”

“So you think he’s the target, too?”

“I have no idea. I’ve just accepted that you’re probably right when you’re worried.” She looked around. “Where the hell is Malcolm?”

“You know, I didn’t see him, or Siler, this morning.”

“Mister Buchanan requested that he and Mister Siler eat separately from everyone else,” Raj said. “For security. He also said that there was enough security here that he didn’t need to come along.”

Meaning either Siler had somehow knocked Buchanan out and taken off or . . . Siler had convinced Buchanan that the best option was to join forces and fight each other later. Based on yesterday’s events, bet on the latter.

That meant we had three teams out—Team Announcement, who were probably the sitting ducks, Team Oliver who were doing who knew what, but releasing investigative tips to the media and bringing Colonel Hamlin snacks and pigeons seemed likely, and Team Bitchin’ who were likely quietly kicking butt and eliminating names. Oh, and Team Assassin, too, out there being good and bad at the same time. This wasn’t giving me a confident feeling of a coordinated effort. Could kind of feel Mom’s pain.

“Malcolm was right, I’m safe here. However, I don’t feel so confident about Jeff’s situation, so can we go protect him now?”

“Too late,” Morgan said, looking at his phone. “It’s started.”

“D
O WE NEED
to send the police or the National Guard or something? Field agents?”

Morgan shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I meant that the announcement has started. It’s on the news.”

“Let’s go,” Mom said. “There’s a TV near enough.”

“I want to go to Jeff.”

“No. Trust me, he’s got protection, and there’s no way you could get from here to there via any conventional means. The last thing you need right now is to show up and give your enemies even more to question.”

Mom had a point. So I didn’t argue as she led us out of the Blue Room. Vance saw us and followed along. Decided Mom could yell at him, but if he wanted to watch the show with us, fine by me. We went across the corridor, to the left, and into the President’s private dining room. Where the President happened to be. Hoped he wasn’t going to bawl me out, too.

The President had the television on, turned to the channel we wanted. He nodded to us, then turned his attention back to the events going on outside Capitol Hill. Mom noted Vance, rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything as she sat in the chair I figured she’d vacated just a little while earlier. Franklin and Morgan didn’t sit, so Raj, Serene, Vance, and I didn’t either. We clustered near Mom and watched the show.

Our politicians were on the steps as promised, with press clustered around them. So far, pretty standard for these kinds of things.

However, there was what looked like a giant mob curved around the press corps, held back by the police. Half of those in the mob appeared to be holding signs showing Armstrong-Martini circled in red with a line through it. Nice. Of course, there were also those holding Armstrong for President signs and even a few Armstrong-Martini ones without the red circle and stuff on them. The pro-Armstrong-Martini signs were clearly handmade, but the anti ones looked like they’d been printed up. Figured Club 51 had been busy.

Despite the mob, everyone on the steps of the Capitol Building looked fine and unfazed. Senator McMillan was at a microphone, talking, introducing and endorsing both Senator Armstrong and Jeff.

Armstrong definitely had his Senior Senator and the Guy You Want to Lead Your Country look going strong. Jeff wasn’t imitating this look so much as it was how he looked naturally—like the leader you wanted but so rarely got. He had my vote.

McMillan finished, then Armstrong took the mic, listed all the ways American Centaurion and Jeff in particular were awesome, and officially stated that Jeffrey Martini would be his running mate should they get the nomination next week.

Then it was Jeff’s turn at the mic. Hoped he handled his moment in the sun better than I had. Also hoped no one was going to shoot him while he was speaking.

“Hi, thank you, Vince, Don,” Jeff said. He wasn’t using his Commander Voice, but the Cheerful Politician Voice he’d learned over the past year and a half. “I’m honored to be considered worthy to support a man I’m proud to call my friend in a bid to lead this great country. And, as I’ve done all my life, I promise I’ll do the best I can to represent you with honesty and integrity. Thank you.”

Jeff waved and stepped away from the microphone. The press pressed forward. As they did so, the camera feed swung around to give us a good shot of the crowd while McMillan tried to get the press into a semblance of control. Spotted Chuckie, Reader, Tim, the flyboys, the K-9 squad, and a variety of others there, doing crowd and press control and clearly ready to protect and defend.

As the camera swung back toward the politicians it caught an average-looking guy, dressed in an average suit, straight brown hair, probably in his late thirties or early forties. There wasn’t anything remarkable about him, other than that he was press and he looked smug.

“That’s Bruce Jenkins,” Vance said urgently.

“What’s he doing with a microphone?” Mom growled.

“What’s he doing with Jeff? I thought he was after me.”

Naturally for my luck, Jenkins managed to shove forward and get a question in.

“Representative Martini, Bruce Jenkins, Washington Post, here with CNN. Do you have any comment on the fact that your wife just admitted that Centaurion Division was responsible for all the bombings yesterday?”

“Crap.” Remembered where we were and who we were with. “Sorry, Mister President.”

“I’ve heard the word before, Ambassador. Let’s see how you husband handles this.”

Shockingly to me, Jeff didn’t look shocked. He looked cool, calm, and totally in charge. “I believe, Mister Jenkins, that my wife
also
shared that the reason Centaurion Division detonated those self-contained bombs was to thwart a large-scale coordinated bioterrorism attack. I’m proud that Centaurion Division saved countless lives, Mister Jenkins, with minimum damage, no casualties, and literally no injuries. Isn’t that what leaders are supposed to do—protect the country and its people?”

This clearly wasn’t the answer Jenkins was expecting, because he came through for me and looked shocked in Jeff’s place.

“My God, your husband really is like Superman, isn’t he?” Vance murmured.

“Yes, but drool later.”

More reporters were tossing questions at Jeff, Armstrong, and McMillan. Many of them were about the bombings, and all three men were able to give coherent, cohesive answers. Of course, many of the questions were about other things, like their stance on immigration, the economy, and so forth, but the bombings definitely had center stage. Jenkins got shoved aside by other reporters, so it didn’t look like he was going to get another shot to ask anything else.

“Mom, do we know if any of the press corps have left?”

“No, they’re all here. None were allowed to leave and they’ve all been kept in the East Room. We have an official statement being made on the President’s behalf regarding your announcement.”

So, Jenkins hadn’t been here and just raced over to Capitol Hill, and that meant he hadn’t heard my announcement firsthand. Sure it was probably all over social media by now, but if he was in place to go for Jeff, then he probably wasn’t checking for too many updates. Which meant he had an associate at the White House who’d filled him in. “Not sure if we care, Mom, but Jenkins has an associate here who’s feeding him information.”

“Then he or she is in the room with the press secretary. The press are allowed to report, that’s why we let them in.”

Chose not to argue this, since it was true and, though I still distrusted Jenkins completely, really, the reporters weren’t necessarily doing anything but their jobs. But the question was—how did Jeff know what I’d said and what was going on? Looked at Serene. “Did you give Jeff the heads-up?” She shook her head. Raj shook his as well.

Thought about it. Christopher had been unnaturally cheerful this morning. And not only was he the fastest man alive, A-Cs could talk and hear at hyperspeed. Dug my phone out and sent him a text. My phone rang and I stepped to the far side of the room. “Hi Flash. Enjoying your busy day?”

“You sound so bitter.”

“I am. Seriously, you were over here spying on me?”

“No. I was over there to ensure that, when you went off-script, I’d be able to get the information to Jeff immediately, so he’d be prepared. Which I did. Nice bombshell, by the way. The expressions onstage were priceless.”

“I, and probably the others here, hate you.”

“You’ll get over it. By the way, you avoided this for the moment, but I heard the press talking amongst themselves while waiting for you, and once Missus Maurer showed up on the dais they got really curious. Expect to get questions about her. What’s your answer going to be, by the way, for why she’s with us?”

“She’d learned of the ricin attack and came to us for help.”

“Really? You’d better brief her on that before you use it. And everyone else over there, too. Your mom in particular.”

“Already got bawled out. Somewhat. So, yes, I’ll run that by Mom, and Nancy herself, before I use it. By the way, are you still here or are you there?”

“I’m here, which for you is there. You’re distracting me from lurking in the shadows and watching for snipers, bomb throwers, or tanks, so that I can grab Jeff and the others and get them to safety, you know.”

“Then I’ll blame you if anything happens to any of them.”

“You’d blame me anyway.”

“Speaking of bitter. Hey, Christopher?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for covering us on this one. It mattered. A lot.”

His voice softened. “You’re welcome. Kitty, I realize everyone’s going to jump on you for what you did and how you did it, but honestly, I thought it was great. I’m really proud of you, and Jeff, too, for how you’re handling all of this.”

“Thanks. And, careful or I’m going to get all mushy and emotional.”

“Can’t have that, that’s James’ territory with you.”

“And Amy’s territory with you.”

“True enough. And before you ask, she’s with Caroline, Doreen, and Abigail, inside the Capitol Building, just in case.”

“Doesn’t anyone stay home and watch these things on TV anymore?” Glanced at the TV. “Looks like things are breaking up.”

“Yeah. Hang in there, Kitty. We’re at the start of a really strange road.”

“It’ll be a bumpy ride, but I’m sure we’ll get there.”

“I think the question is—do we want to get there? Reynolds just gave me the signal to help with crowd control. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be careful.”

“You, too.”

“Always.”

“Never that any of us have ever seen.”

“I know you are but what am I?”

Christopher laughed. “You’re the wife of the likely vice presidential nominee.”

“Oh good. Totally not routine.”