Alien Diplomacy (57 page)

“The person paying them doesn’t want to be found out, either. That’s part of why they hire a professional.”

The room was packed, but I finally spotted Leslie dancing with Bryce. They looked extremely comfortable with each other, both laughing and smiling. They smiled a lot alike. I wondered if Leslie still wanted to talk to me or if that had all been some sort of weird thing going on around Ryan’s death.

“Exactly.”

“So, it’s safe to assume that some suicides are actually murders done so well that the police are fooled?”

“Yes, I’d have to say that’s a likely assumption.”

“So, what do you think about the current police situation in the city?”

“I think it stinks. I’m not a fan of Titan Security. For a variety of reasons.”

I looked at his expression. Everyone I knew seemed to trust him. And I knew something he didn’t, which I was fairly sure no one, including Caroline, had briefed him on. “Titan hired people to…watch you while you’re in Paraguay.”

“Oh, I know. Can’t stand them. I do not approve of turning the protection of city, state, or country over to private enterprise. Possibly because I’m an old soldier, so to speak, but more because I think it’s incredibly dangerous to our liberty, as well as providing no protection for those who’re likely to need it most. Antony Marling and I agree on some things, but not this one.”

“I’m with you on that sentiment. But there’s more than that. The Titan guards with you in South America…they’re not…what
you think they are. And definitely not who you think they are. If you see them in the room, avoid them, and let me know.”

I got a shot of the McMillan Gaze, which was reputed to be something prisoners, soldiers, and the faint of heart cracked under back in his war days. It reminded me a lot of my mother when she was seriously pissed. Ergo, it didn’t affect me all that much. I’d grown up with this look, usually when I came home late from a date.

“Just what are you trying to share, young lady?” Young lady, not Ambassador. Yeah, he was trying the Parental Gambit.

I could play the game, but time was short, we were on the same side, and I still didn’t know what was going on. “Peter and Victor are actually some of those professional assassins we were just talking about.”

His eyes narrowed. “You have proof?”

“Right now, only my word. The real evidence was destroyed earlier today.” And, I realized, that was exactly why the garage had been blown up. If the bombs and resulting building collapse killed all of us at the same time, it merely meant it was doing double duty. I had a feeling the Dingo was still alive and that he was here, right now.

I ran his clue over in my mind. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I knew he’d been telling me what I wanted to know. But the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog still made no sense in terms of anything going on, unless Prince was the target, which seemed more than farfetched.

McMillan shook his head. “You can’t afford to get into a pissing match with Titan. And by you, I mean American Centaurion. The big security companies are your enemies in more ways than one.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re trying to find down in the Chaco. We want to stop that program, too.”

He looked grim. “My entire congressional team wants the project found and stopped. We’re so close, but every time, we’re just a little too late. And now I know why.”

“What do you know about Marling? I mean that the papers don’t print.”

McMillan shook his head. “Before this conversation, I’d have said we both agreed on the philosophy of increasing help to local, state, and national protection agencies and differed on the paths to take. Now? If your intelligence is correct, it shades everything I know. But why would anyone hire assassins to be a part of the
protection team? Doing that kind of clandestine work seems more suited to spooks than to killers.”

“Aren’t plenty of spooks killers, too?”

“Yes, but not normally as a professional choice. You have to make hard decisions when you’re in the thick of things, but that doesn’t mean you murder for a living. I know you know that. Because I know you had the misfortune to meet Leventhal Reid before he…died.”

I looked him right in the eye. “The story is that he was after a group of college coeds while he was high on meth and was subdued by county sheriffs. Unfortunately, to save the girls, the sheriffs had to kill him.”

“It’s a good story, and you tell it very well.” He leaned closer and dropped his voice. “I’m close friends with your uncle; we served together for a time. Who do you think he turns to when he needs political approval to pull a particularly brave young lady’s fat out of the fire?”

“I can guess.”

“Reid was the worst kind of politician, and man, there is. You did the world a favor. But you didn’t do it because you were paid to, did you?”

“No.” And actually, Jeff had killed him. To save me. But that distinction wasn’t important right now.

Some people passed by and waved at McMillan in that way you do when you know you have to be polite but you really don’t want to stop to chat, let alone hang, with the wavee. He gave them a curt nod in return, and we went back to looking like party guests.

“Who was that?” I asked as much out of interest as to sort of change the subject.

“The head of the ATF. We’re not on good terms right now. Of course, I don’t get along all that well with most of the Alphabet Agencies, at least, not with the people in charge of them, your mother excluded. All of whom are in the room with us now. Should be a fun party.”

And there it was. Total clarity.

B
UT I HAD TO BE SURE BEFORE I
leaped into action. “Senator, a related hypothetical. What if you wanted to kill some specific people, but you absolutely didn’t want anyone to know that they were the ones you wanted killed?”

“A diversionary killing, you mean?”

“Maybe. More that you don’t want the cops able to determine who the real intended targets were, so that the cops don’t figure out that you gave the order to terminate.” The few cops left, that is, who would be so overworked they’d take the first easy answer they could find, because doing otherwise would mean they, like the K-9 team, would be cut.

“Terrorist attack is your best option,” he replied without missing a beat. “It focuses everyone on the larger threat to national security, while leaving you free to kill off anyone you don’t like. Of course, you’ll kill many other innocent people along the way, but that’s essentially the point.”

“Yes, it is. And they’ll get at least a double out of it, too.”

“I beg your pardon?”

I looked around again and spotted Doreen and Irving just coming off the dance floor. I waved them over and did the fast introductions. “I need you two to stay with the senator and pay attention. Sir, you need to look for anyone on your congressional teams, the one going down to South America for sure, but possibly others. Any of them who are in agreement with you on the private security issues and their related projects. Anyone who the two Titan employees you know would also know by sight.”

I got one more long look, then he nodded. “Should I get Kelly out of here?”

“I’d love to get everyone out of here. I’m just betting we won’t be able to.” I was sure I was giving off stress vibes. I wanted to really focus, in case Jeff was involved in a particularly deep and interesting conversation, but before I could, the music went to something really dull and undanceable, and the dance floor cleared. Caroline, Michael, and Kelly rejoined us, Amy, Christopher, and Tito in tow, which was great. But Leslie Manning followed them, which wasn’t.

“Kitty, there you are.”

“Hey, Leslie.” I did the required introductions.

“Where’s your husband?” she asked when I was done.

“Around. Somewhere. I’m sure.”

“Well, then, can I steal you away for a minute so we can talk?”

It was say yes or tell her she’d won the Worst Timing in the World Award. I voted for the former. “Sure. Where’s Bryce?”

“Around.” Leslie looked worried. “I need to talk to you now, while he’s busy.”

I needed to get the rest of the team focused on what I’d figured out, and I needed to do it without Leslie catching on. She might have information about what was going on, or this might be her way of suggesting I share the bed of love with her and Villanova.

“Sure. Oh, Ames, your earring’s sort of screwed up. Let me fix it.” I got up close to her. “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog equals the Alphabet Agencies.”

“Huh?” Amy said, as I fiddled with her earring then moved away. “Uh, thanks, Kitty.” She put her hand to her ear, a confused look on her face. Oh, well, I’d tried. Hopefully Leslie’s weirdness would be brief and I could get back and get everyone moving on getting the obvious targets protected.

Leslie was watching me; I couldn’t pass any other information without her seeing it. “Be right back. I promise.”

We walked off. “Thanks, Kitty,” Leslie said. “I appreciate you being willing to help me.”

“I have no idea what you need help with, and I didn’t exactly promise to help. I said I’d talk to you at the ball. So talk, what’s going on?”

We passed Bryce who was talking to Marling. They were behind a column and seemed to be arguing, albeit quietly. I turned and headed us closer to them. Leslie noted where I was looking. “You know about Jack?”

“There’s a lot about Jack going around right now. Which ‘about’ are you referring to?” We were close to Marling and Bryce. Marling looked annoyed.

“…don’t want to keep on doing this,” Bryce hissed. “We’re tired of pretending.”

Marling saw us, and his expression shifted to pleasant. “Ah, how nice to see you ladies.”

Bryce spun around, eyes narrowed. But he smiled when he saw us. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Leslie said. She seemed uncomfortable. “We were just going to powder our noses.”

Bryce smirked. “The ambassador does that a lot.” He shot Leslie a look I could only think of as annoyed. I was fairly sure he hadn’t wanted this conversation interrupted.

I shrugged. “It happens.”

“We were discussing animal rescue,” Marling said. “I believe that’s something you have an interest in?”

I didn’t know what they’d been talking about before we joined them, but for sure, animal rescue wasn’t it. I wondered if Marling was making a veiled reference to the K-9 dogs. But I decided not to press the issue, since I still had no idea what Leslie wanted. “I’m all for saving helpless animals. I understand you’re a bird man.”

Marling beamed. “Yes, my Bellie.” It was interesting—when he smiled like this, his eyes, which were gray, had an almost pearly sheen to them. I wondered if he’d chosen his parrot in part because it was gray in color, too. The look was very pretty, though I couldn’t tell how it happened. Maybe the light hit his eyes differently when he was really smiling honestly. I wondered if other people’s eyes did that. If they did, I hadn’t noticed, but then that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

“I thought her name was, um, longer.” There was no way I was going to get Rybelleclies out with proper pronunciation.

He laughed. “It is, but I use her nickname more. You like birds?”

I didn’t all that much, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Birds are fine. I’m more of a cats, dogs, and horses girl.”

“Ah, well, with your name, at least the first is understandable.”

“Yes.” I tried for something else innocuous to say, since “hey, are you the one planning to kill everyone” and “what’s the status on the supersoldier projects you’re managing” didn’t seem like a wise gambit. “Interesting, what you can come up with when you’re making an anagram, isn’t it?”

Marling nodded, the pearly sheen leaving his eyes as they went
back to their regular gray. “True enough. Keeps my late wife near me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”

He shook his head. “Not your fault; you haven’t had to go through losing your husband yet.”

This was getting uncomfortable, so I was relieved when Leslie took my arm. “The powder room calls. We’ll catch you when we get back in,” she said as she dragged me off. “No need to have to hear him wax rhapsodic about that stupid bird.”

“I suppose. It’s an interesting name.”

“It’s stupid,” she snapped. “I think it shows a lack of creativity, if all you can come up with is an anagram of your name when you’re trying to be clever.”

I contemplated this as we moved through the throngs of people. It was kind of clever, really, though I had to figure there would be a more normal name someone could make out of Cybele Siler. It was a weird name, just as weird, really, as what Marling had named his bird.

“What’s going on with you and Bryce?” I asked while I played around with the letters in my mind.

“Oh, the usual,” she said. We left the ballroom. I was still turned around, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t the way Nathalie and I had gone.

“What’s the usual?” I braced myself for her to suggest that I sleep with her, Bryce, Whitmore, and Villanova on their extra large bed of love.

“Oh, he’s always complaining about something,” she said as she looked around. I got the impression she hadn’t censored that remark. Sure enough she turned back to me and smiled. “You know how it is.”