Alien Diplomacy (28 page)

“Just like Paris,” I called as we sailed over the gaps between cars.

“Let’s hope not.”

We reached the end of the train fast. Neither one of us hesitated. We jumped off. White pulled me into his arms midair and managed a good wrap and cover. We landed, on his shoulder, I was pretty sure, and rolled.

Once we rolled to a stop I staggered to my feet. “You okay?”

White nodded. “Somewhat.”

I reached down and helped him up. “You look a little worse for wear.”

“You’re not a party yourself, Missus Martini.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“I agree.” White cleared his throat. “Are you, ah, able to manage the hyperspeed?”

“I think so.” I took a closer look. “Richard, you’re bleeding.”

“I am. I’ll heal faster than you would have.”

“You’re holding yourself funny, too.”

“I believe my shoulder is dislocated, and I imagine I’ll need a stitch or two. Now isn’t the time to dwell on my injuries, which are relatively minor, albeit unpleasant. I’ll be fine, however, I used quite a bit of energy on that jump.”

“Gotcha. If you can, please God, steer, I’ve got the hyperjuice. At least for a few miles.”

“I believe a few is all we’ll need.”

We took off again. I was tired, too, so I was going at the slow version of hyperspeed, which always sounded like an oxymoron but really existed. We were still going fast, but someone with sharp eyes could have spotted us as blurry images.

White’s steering ensured I didn’t run us off the tracks. After a short while we were even with the ground, and we got off the tracks. Just in time, as another train barreled past, right after its homicidal brother.

I had no idea where we were, but White seemed to, so we ran along the street, passing cars as if they were standing still. If it wasn’t for the fact that I knew he was hurt, I would have possibly enjoyed this. As it was, I wanted to get home, and by home I really meant either my parents’ house in Arizona or the Dulce Science Center in New Mexico. Sadly, neither was an option.

We crossed the river. “Oh, look. The Potomac. Let’s not go swimming.”

“No argument from me, Missus Martini.”

We were decently far away from the airport when I felt us slowing down. I was a sprinter, and while I’d spent time on distance, both when I ran track and since joining up with Centaurion Division, I only had so much gas in the tank on the best days. This was absolutely not one of the best days.

We were at a walk in a matter of moments. “I’m sorry, I can’t run anymore.”

White nodded. “I’m fine with a rest.”

I spotted a big parking lot nearby as Go West’s “The King of Wishful Thinking” came on my iPod. We walked through it, slowly, stopping several times to rest. The sun set fully. The lighting in this part of the parking lot wasn’t impressive. It figured we’d have to stop for a rest in the Creepshow Parking Lot.

“I think we’re by a mall.” Though there weren’t a lot of cars. Then again, for all I knew, whatever had kept the taxis away from National had kept customers away from the mall, too. I looked around but couldn’t spot so much as a security golf cart, let alone a police car.

“Good. I hope.”

I dropped my iPod back into my purse and dug my phone out. Jeff answered on the first ring. “Where are you?”

“We aren’t sure. At a mall near the airport. Richard got hurt.”

“WHAT?” Jeff’s bellow was always impressive.

White took the phone from me. “Hello, Jeffrey.” I could hear Jeff shouting. He sounded beyond freaked. White sighed. “Jeffrey, I’m not the Pontifex anymore. Yes, actually, that does mean that I’m able to risk life and limb. No, she’s not hurt, or if she is, she hasn’t mentioned it.”

“Fine here. You blocked the impact.” Apparently Jeff heard me, because I could hear him asking what impact I was talking about. He was merely yelling, not bellowing. “Tell him to stop scaring the baby.”

“Your wife would like me to pass along the gentle suggestion that you’re likely distressing your child. Ah, well, then, feel free to keep on shouting at me.” I couldn’t hear Jeff anymore. White was trying not to laugh. “Yes, apology accepted. I understand. It’s been a trying couple of days. I believe Kathy was calling for us to get a lift.” White gave up and laughed. “Yes, we’re undercover again. Not really, if you catch my meaning, however. Yes, thank you. Good.”

He handed the phone back to me. “Jeffrey would like to speak to you while they send a team to fetch us.”

I dutifully took my phone back. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“It’s never your fault. How badly is he hurt?”

“I don’t know. He thinks his shoulder’s dislocated, and I see blood, but not a lot. We had to jump off the train tracks.”

I could hear Jeff take a deep breath. “Fine. I’m going to get all of this from you once we have you both back and secured.”

“Who’s coming to get us?”

“People we can trust.”

“You’re staying at the Embassy, right?”

“Yes. Not that I’m happy about it, let me add, but Reynolds and your mother have both thrown high-level security temper tantrums and are now both insisting that once one of the team returns, he or she isn’t allowed out again.”

“I guess there were a lot of us running around these past couple of days.”

“You in particular. Anyway, sit tight, baby. Your ride will be there shortly.”

I was going to ask again who was coming to get us when I heard what sounded like a muted sprinkler system. “Who’s coming for us in a chopper? C.I.A. that we like, C.I.A. that we don’t like, someone from our team, or an assassin?”

Jeff cursed impressively. “Figure it’s an assassin. None of us sent a chopper.”

“Okay, hanging up, love you, gotta run. For real. Someone find us and fast.” I flung my phone back into my purse, grabbed White’s hand, and took off.

“I thought you said you were run out,” he said as we headed for one of the buildings.

“It’s amazing how people coming to shoot us from the air gives me that ability to go on.”

We rounded a corner and were greeted by the sight of a lot of goons. I couldn’t be sure if they were the same squad from the airport, but they had the same look, and they certainly had the same earpieces.

“We’re officially in a Matrix movie, Mister White. And I’d like to go for popcorn and a Coke.”

“Well, we could take in a movie, Missus Martini, but I’m not sure we can do that without endangering everyone inside.”

White leaned up against the building. This wasn’t a good sign. “Richard, how badly are you hurt? I want the truth, not a reassuring statement.”

“I’ve been better.”

I looked around. We were essentially surrounded. I could possibly
push myself and get us…somewhere. But I was lost around here still, and White seemed to be in need of, at minimum, a lie-down and some pain meds. Stitches and God knew what else were probably going to be a necessity as well.

The goons were moving casually. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe they didn’t think we’d seen them since we weren’t running away. Either that, or, as was more likely, we were completely surrounded, and they could conserve their energy.

“I’m feeling very Alamo-ish again.”

“Again?”

“Had that feeling during Operation Fugly. Having it again now.”

On cue, White winced at the name. “I shudder to discover what you’re going to name this initiative, Missus Martini.”

I was about to say that my main goal was to have us survive to be able to name it anything other than Operation Rest In Peace when I saw goon bodies fly. I blinked, and then the last person I’d expected was in front of us.

“I
HOPE YOU TWO ARE DONE
playing around,” Christopher snapped. I was treated to Patented Glare #2. His father got Glare #5. Christopher was a glaring
artist
.

Of course, as I thought about it—while Christopher flung his father’s good arm over his shoulder, wrapped his arm around White’s waist, and grabbed my hand—it made total sense. He’d been ready to do something similar during Operation Confusion, after all, and had been restrained by my mother, Chuckie, Jeff, and Gower. And Jeff had Jamie to consider and protect. Plus Christopher was as tired of not kicking butt as the rest of us.

“Hang on,” he said. Then he took off, at the fastest hyperspeed I’d ever experienced.

We barreled through the bad guys as if they weren’t even there. Everything seemed to be standing still, other than my stomach, which shared that I might be enhanced, but this speed was beyond my new limits.

I didn’t pass out or barf, but only because it was over fast. We stopped. Sadly, we weren’t at the Embassy. We were, however, no longer surrounded by bad guys, so this was a great location as far as I was concerned.

“How’d you find us?” I managed to gasp out, in between retching.

I got Glare #3. Wow, he was really pulling out all the stops to impress. I was sort of sorry Amy was missing this show. I was sure she’d find it hot.

“I’m enhanced, remember? I can see you if I want to. Jeff shouted that my father was hurt, I looked, saw what was wrong and where you were, and left.”

“Against a direct order?”

Christopher shrugged. “I was moving too fast to pay attention.”

“You mean you were far enough away from Mom or Chuckie that they couldn’t grab you.”

He grinned. “Something like that, yeah.”

“When did my mom get there?”

“Right after Reynolds called her and told her what was going on and what you and my father were doing.” He shook his head. “Dad, you shouldn’t have gone with James.”

White rolled his eyes. “Yes, son, that’s exactly what I need right now. A lecture.”

“No, you need your shoulder put back in and a couple of stitches.”

“Why aren’t we at the Embassy? Or anywhere else I’d consider safe?” I looked around. “Where are we?” We were in a doorway near a street corner as near as I could tell. There were cars and stoplights, so street corner somewhere seemed likely. Trees were blocking the street signs, so I had no clue, not that my seeing the street names would have likely told me anything anyway.

“We’re on the way home. I could tell you both needed a break from the speed,” Christopher said. “We’re stopped here just so you two can normalize. Then we’re moving again. So try to stop gagging.”

“Sorry I’m the delay.”

White shook his head. “Son, we’re both feeling chagrined and apologetic. Stop snarling.”

“That wasn’t snarling, Richard. I’ve seen him snarl. Trust me, it’s nastier.”

“I feel so guilty,” Christopher said, in a tone that indicated quite the opposite. “Dad, clench your teeth.”

White did as ordered, and Christopher did some move that, clearly, put White’s dislocated shoulder back in. White shouted, then nodded. “Thank you, son.” He put his good arm around Christopher and hugged him tightly. “We both appreciate being alive.”

Christopher pulled me in for a group hug in a few moments. This was an A-C thing, and I never minded it. I leaned my head against Christopher’s shoulder. Not nearly as comfy as Reader’s but it’d do in a pinch.

“What now?” I asked finally.

“Now we get home. I don’t know if you two are bugged or what, but according to James, the guys after you at the airport are all run off or detained.”

“Meaning the large number of men who almost got us this time are new additions to the fold. Wonderful. I don’t know who could have bugged us, since we were declared clean before we left the Embassy.”

“Reynolds could have,” Christopher offered.

“No way in the world.” This time I was the one snarling. “I’m officially sick and beyond tired of you and Jeff treating Chuckie like crap or like he’s our enemy. I’ll walk home alone, too, if I have to hear any more of it from you. Richard came with James and Tim, by the way. They also on your suspect list?”

Christopher sighed. “Fine. I wasn’t actually accusing him. And I’m certainly not accusing James or Tim, either. I was pointing out that you haven’t been alone since you left the Embassy.”

“Let’s get back to the Embassy,” White said soothingly. “We’ll worry about it then.”

I looked around. My vision was also enhanced, and I could see a lot farther than I’d been able to before, as well as see well in the dark. And what I saw looked a lot like another Goon Squad on the ground and a helicopter in the air. I looked in the other direction. There were three taxis cruising by. Two of them had clearly been in a fender bender.

“Okay, I’m not mad at you anymore, Christopher.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re finding us somehow.” I pointed as the goons got closer and the taxis all pulled illegal U-turns. Unsurprisingly, there were no cops nearby.

Christopher put his father’s arm over his shoulder again, grabbed White’s waist and my hand, and we were off, again at the fastest speeds ever.

This time, we stopped on the steps of the Embassy. I gagged my way to the front door, preferring to toss the cookies inside, where it appeared to be somewhat safer.

We got inside to find Tito waiting for us with a gurney. “I’ve had medical support brought over from Dulce,” he told us.

“Why?” I asked as I helped White get onto the gurney. Unlike every other man I worked with, he didn’t whine about it. Meaning he was either really hurt or more mature about things. I voted for both.