Alien Collective (41 page)

I
WAS READY TO DODGE,
run, or attack, but nothing happened. Serene stepped into the room, held the door for us, and the rest of us came inside.

That the room was empty was immediately clear—no one was at the secretary’s desk and there was no one else in this room. The blinds to the colonel’s office were drawn and closed, however.

“It’s too early here for a lunch break,” White said softly.

“I wonder where Zoya is,” Serene said, at a normal tone, in her Innocent Voice. She pointed to the computer on the desk and White and I came over to look. It was off. It was also a laptop. I unplugged it and handed it to the Dingo.

Our assassins were busy. They had their cloaked cases off and were getting guns and other weapons out and about their persons. More than they’d had on them already. All done silently. The Dingo took the laptop and put it inside his case, also without making noise.

Serene went to the door to the colonel’s office, opened it, and stuck her head in. I waited for it to be blown off and readied myself to leap for her.

But nothing happened. “Huh, the colonel’s not here, either,” she said into the room. “I guess they left for an early lunch or something. We’ll have to come back.” She shut the door in a normal way but ensured it made noise. Then she went to the outer door, waited a few seconds, opened it, waited another few seconds, and closed it.

While she did this, I tiptoed to the door that led into the colonel’s office, leaned carefully against it, being sure to make no sound myself or against the wood, and listened as hard as I could. Didn’t hear anything. At all. But what Jeff called my feminine intuition, my Mom called my gut, and I called a funny feeling told me there was at least one person in there, being incredibly still.

Backed away and went to the Dingo. The others joined us in a little huddle.

“I didn’t hear anything,” I said in a low voice. “But it feels like someone’s in there now.”

The Dingo nodded. “Good instinct. Continue to speak softly, but assume that, despite Serene’s good efforts, they know someone is in here. We will go in first.”

“I think I should,” Serene said. “It could surprise them.”

He shook his head. “If they truly believed we had left, they would have come into this room. They have not, meaning whoever is in there, be it Chernobog or some other enemy, they know we are still here. No, Victor and I go first. We will try to disarm and not kill, but if it’s between us and them . . .” He shrugged.

“Yeah. Just . . . I think some of our people may be in there as prisoners or hostages.”

“We’re professionals,” Surly Vic said. “We aren’t paid to kill random strangers.” he gave me a small smile. “At least, not on this job.”

“Ah, Operation Assassination. Good times . . . good times . . .”

“I agree, they were,” the Dingo said with a chuckle. He patted my shoulder. “It will be fine. Be prepared to hold off the military, however, because we may not be able to be silent.”

“You realize that the three of us could do this fast enough that no human could see us,” White said. “And, as such, I believe that if you gentlemen will cover me, I’ll be the one to go in first. I should be able to disarm anyone before you have to fire.”

The Dingo looked skeptical.

“Mister White is good. I think he’s the best agent we have.”

“I’m flattered,” White said.

“It’s risky,” Surly Vic countered.

“Less for me than for the two of you,” White replied calmly. “Frankly, less for Serene and Missus Martini as well. However, I would prefer our young ladies hang back, hold the extra weapons, and cover the rear, while simultaneously being ready to save us menfolk if necessary.”

“As you wish,” the Dingo said. He went to one side of the door, and Surly Vic went to the other. They both had impressive-looking handguns with silencers on them out and ready.

White motioned for me and Serene to get out of the potential line of fire, and once we did, he nodded to the assassins, and took off.

He had the door opened and was in the room in the blink of an eye. The assassins followed him in, but they didn’t have much to do.

Proving where Christopher got his butt kicking abilities from, White had the three people who were in the room knocked down and their weapons taken away in about two seconds flat.

Serene and I trotted in as the assassins pulled zip ties out of their suit jackets and had the three people bound, hand and foot, in less than a minute. They also had duct tape, and put it over the prisoners’ mouths.

Which was awkward, because when I actually looked at the prisoners, I recognized them. “Um, guys?”

“What?” Serene asked. Then she took a good look, too. “Oh. Oh! Gosh, we are so sorry!”

She and I raced over to untie Len, Kyle, and Adriana, all of whom were looking betrayed and more than a little pissed.

“Wait,” the Dingo said. “Be sure they are really who you think they are.”

“We don’t have an OVS on us. Other than asking them questions, how would we know?” Pondered this and pulled off Kyle’s gag. “How did we meet?”

“You were hanging off a ledge at the Hooters Hotel and Casino in Vegas and Len crawled out a window to save you. Why the hell are you guys in here like you’re all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents or something?”

“It’s Kyle. The others who we think they are?”

“Yeah. Geez, Kitty, we’re on the job.”

“Apologies,” White said. “I didn’t stop to look at faces.”

“If you’d checked in we’d have known it was you. Besides, Mister White disarmed you for your own protection.” This didn’t earn me any looks of love.

Once we’d unbound and de-gagged our “captured” members of Team Oliver, I checked the bathroom—no one was in it.

“What are you doing?” Adriana asked.

“Checking for enemies.”

Len sighed. “Kitty, I think you guys have the wrong idea about what’s going on.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. What is going on?”

White opened the conference room door, to show the rest of Team Oliver, a man I didn’t know who looked to be in his fifties wearing an Air Force uniform, and an older woman who looked like she was Everyone’s Grandma all sitting around the conference table.

Mr. Joel Oliver looked amused, Jeremy, Jennifer, and Walter looked slightly guilty, and the Air Force guy whose stripes and such indicated he was a colonel, and so likely to be Butler, looked shocked. Everybody’s Grandma, however, looked both concerned and as if she was calculating a wide variety of odds.

“Wow, would have been nice of you guys to let us know you were powwowing with Chernobog the Ultimate all this time. Some people have been worried about you. Not me, mind you, but others.”

“Ah, Ambassador,” Oliver said cheerfully. “Allow me to introduce you to Colonel John Butler, who shared that he hasn’t yet had the honor of meeting you. And to Zoya Darnell, at least as she’s called at this moment.” He looked at the assassins. “Oh, gentlemen, please put your guns away. I’m sure you don’t need to protect anyone in your assignment from those of us here.”

I nodded to the Dingo and Surly Vic, who did indeed put their guns away. Right now, no one other than Oliver seemed to realize who they were, score one for Serene’s Armani Fatigues idea. Went with the undoubtedly safe assumption that Oliver knew exactly who they were, based on him being pretty much as hard to fool as Olga. Or Chuckie. Who I figured I was going to need to call, and soon. But not just yet, apparently.

Instead, I took the weapons case off and handed it to the Dingo. Serene did the same with the one she was holding for Surly Vic. “Doesn’t look like we’ll need these right now, but hold onto them, just in case.”

The Dingo nodded, took the case, and stepped back, so that he was leaning against the wall near the door. Surly Vic did the same. They both looked like they were Secret Service, but that was kind of what half the human Field agents resembled anyway, so hoped they’d stay incognito.

“So, MJO, want to explain why you guys are holed up here and, more importantly, why none of you checked in?”

Butler answered before Oliver could. “We’re in the middle of delicate negotiations, Ambassador. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

O
PENED MY MOUTH TO REPLY,
but Serene beat me to it.

“No.” One syllable, but she packed a lot of authority into it. “The woman you’ve had as your secretary for the past year is considered one of American Centaurion’s most wanted war criminals. Either we’re now a part of this meeting, or the Ambassador will call in the C.I.A. while I call in the rest of Alpha Team.”

“I will not work with them,” Chernobog said imperiously. Caught Adriana’s eye—she rolled hers, shrugged, and made the “duck” with her hand, fingers flapping against thumb, or what I thought of as the Universal Blah, Blah, Blah Sign. So, Chernobog had been stalling things out, and Butler had been allowing it. Good to know.

“Oh, you will.” I sat down and Serene and White followed my lead. “And let me explain just why you will. There’s a contract out on your life. We can stop the assassins. But we won’t—in fact, we’ll tell them exactly where you are—unless you cooperate with us. I’m sure everyone else has been really nice. But this has taken too long, and Team Hardball just showed up.”

“You have no authority here,” Butler said, albeit rather more nicely than I’d been expecting. He looked like he’d be about Christopher’s height standing, but was much stockier. Normal features, black hair, blue eyes. Average nice-looking man.

Had to figure he was worried about being brought up on charges of treason for having been fooled by her for a year, with good reason. If I was Chernobog—and she was in the Megalomaniac League and, therefore, experience said I could think just like her—I’d make damn sure I had all the incriminating evidence there was on Butler, real and faked, in a safe yet easily accessible place so that I always had a bargaining chip.

Also, it wasn’t likely that Butler had a ton of experience with negotiating spies in from the cold. Chuckie should have been here at least half a day ago, but I knew without asking that Chernobog had said she wouldn’t talk if the C.I.A. or other government agencies showed up. So, needed to make sure that both Butler and Chernobog realized I was now in charge.

“Sure we do. Lots and lots of authority. I also have a direct line to your bosses’ boss, Colonel.” Well, I had a direct line to Mom, and that was, essentially, a direct line to the President. “He’s kind of pissed about everything that’s happened these past couple of days. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have someone to blame. Tag, you’re it.”

Butler blanched. “I’m not your fall guy.”

“So,” White said pleasantly, “someone might perhaps want to catch us up, and quickly, before the Ambassador uses her itchy phone trigger finger.”

“You complete me, Mister White.”

“Madame Darnell—” Oliver started.

“Call her Chernobog. That’s who she is. I don’t care what name she’s used for the past year. It’s no more real than any other she’s had over the decades. But Chernobog is who she
is
.”

Chernobog gave me a long, appraising look. “Why do you insist?”

“Two reasons. One, you don’t deserve to be called something pretty like Zoya or Madame Darnell. You’re a terrorist, a murderer, and someone who released a bioagent into Centaurion’s main research facility which has ended up crippling a good number of our people. That the three of us aren’t trying to strangle you right now is a testament to our restraint, not our lack of desire.”

“What’s two?”

“You’re the best of the best of the best when it comes to hacking. That deserves its own level of respect. Zoya Darnell isn’t the Ultimate. Chernobog is.”

She smiled slowly at me. “You, I am willing to talk to.”

“Fabulous. So, MJO, where are we at? I’m looking for bottom line information. Stop worrying about offending Madame Prickly here. I can guarantee that what I’ll have to offer her will be the best deal she could ever hope to be offered.”

“This capture belongs to the Air Force,” Butler said.

“Bull. It belongs to my team. If they’re here with you, hanging out, there’s only one reason—they’re the ones who brought to your attention the fact that your secretary is the biggest security risk in, possibly, the history of the United States. And you had her working under you for a year . . . and you didn’t figure it out.”

Butler flushed. “I can’t deny that,” he said stiffly.

“Good. I like to know if I’m dealing with an idiot blowhard or just a guy who’s been caught totally by surprise and is trying to do the best he can with absolutely no prep.”

Butler gave me a long look. Not as appraising as the one Chernobog had given me, but close. “Colonel Franklin speaks highly of you.”

“Arthur’s my kind of guy.” There were times to use Franklin’s first name, and this seemed to be one. “He rolls with the punches better than any high-ranking military I’ve ever met. Other than Major-General Mortimer Katt.” I smiled nicely. “My Uncle Mort is, of course, the best at rolling with whatever’s tossed at him and handling it.”

Not for the first time was I happy that I had a family member I knew and loved in a position of rank within the military. Butler straightened up. “Oh! You’re Mort’s niece? I’m sorry . . . I didn’t make the connection.”

Controlled myself from calling him on this one. There was no way that someone in charge of Area 51 wouldn’t know that Mortimer Katt’s niece was the American Centaurion Ambassador. However, I could spot someone trying to save face, and Butler didn’t seem to be an idiot blowhard.

“No problem, Colonel Butler. It’s been a trying time for all of us.”

“Please, call me John, Ambassador.”

Butler was definitely covering his butt. Good. It showed intelligence versus belligerence. It was also making Chernobog nervous. I could tell because she was fidgeting, just a little, but she sure didn’t seem nearly as relaxed as she had earlier. Also good.

“Thank you, John. And it’s Kitty. So, let’s get to it, shall we? What has Chernobog offered and what has she asked for? MJO, you were saying?”

“She would like full immunity for her promise not to be a bad girl computer-wise ever again.”

“And?”

“That’s it,” Oliver said.

“Wow, such a deal. Here’s the counteroffer. You give us back all the data you stole and wiped from Centaurion Division and any other U.S. department over the past, oh, let’s call it twenty years. You will give us all the information you have on the people who put you into motion to steal Centaurion’s data and so forth a year ago. You will tell us, in detail, what was released in the Dulce Science Center and potentially elsewhere that has caused our imageers to lose their powers. And you will also tell us who created it and how to fix it.”

“And if I refuse?” Chernobog asked.

“Then,” the Dingo said from behind me, “you die.”