Alien Diplomacy (6 page)

“Oldest friend. Brilliant. Massively successful in three separate careers. Risks his life to protect us. I’m not seeing the downside to valuing his opinion. You were doing so well with the jealousy. Let’s go back to that.”

Jeff sighed. “I don’t think it’s jealousy if it’s based on fact, but I’ll give you that this situation is more important.”

I decided to merely enjoy the personal growth as opposed to comment on it. Jeff was massively jealous and possessive, but since he made up for that in any number of amazing ways, at least half of them sexual, I lived with it. Besides, it was still flattering that he was worried that someone other than himself was going to sweep me off my feet.

“So it’s someone new. Or someone old. Or someone borrowed, and we probably can’t rule out someone blue.”

“Nice to see you’re focusing on Christopher and Amy’s wedding as opposed to our current situation.” Jeff’s sarcasm knob was heading toward eleven after all.

“Just adding some undoubtedly much needed levity to lessen the strain of a tense situation.” Jamie was done, and Jeff took her from me, put her gently on his shoulder, and patted her back. “You’re such a good daddy.”

He smiled, and for the first time since we’d gotten back, he looked relaxed. “Glad you think so.” Jamie burped rather hugely, then cooed. “And glad to see our Jamie-Kat thinks so, too.”

We finished up, and I put Jamie into a cute Minnie Mouse sleeper, one of the many gifts from her A-C induction ceremony. Then we joined the others in what Jeff called the Great Room and what I called the Humongous Living Room.

I did a fast head count. I hadn’t been wrong before—everyone in any position of power within Centaurion Division was here. It was a good thing the rooms in our penthouse were huge, because otherwise we’d have had to use video conferencing to talk to each other.

Alpha Team currently consisted of Reader, Tim, Serene—who was now the Head of Imageering—Gower, and, technically, me. I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with the team over the past three months, but I held onto my Head of Recruitment title with both hands and at least one foot. White, as my now-partner and the former Pontifex, was still considered a part of Alpha, too, albeit a very nonpublicized part.

The rest of Airborne, also known as my five flyboys, were here as well, as was Tito Hernandez, though he’d been sidelined into Embassy life, too, as our official Doctor in Residence. He seemed to mind it the least, possibly because he was doing what he loved every day.

Lorraine and Claudia were both my best A-C girlfriends and had also assumed the positions Reader and Tim had vacated when they’d been promoted, so they were now Captains. They were also both extremely pregnant—we expected their babies to arrive, at most, days apart. It was fitting. They were besties, they’d married Joe Billings and Randy Muir, respectively, who were two of said flyboys and also best friends. That they were going to have their babies at the same time seemed right.

In addition to Alpha and Airborne teams, we also had several others represented. Brian Dwyer, my old high school boyfriend and now Serene’s husband, was in attendance. Chuckie, Len, and Kyle had joined the crowd. And Kevin Lewis, my mom’s right-hand man and another human giving the A-Cs a run in the looks department, was with us as well.

“Wow, the heck with the President’s Ball. If someone wants to take us down, all they’d have to do is blow up the Embassy right now, and Centaurion Division would lose everyone who controls its protection.” I got a lot of dirty looks. “I guess you’re all hungry. We need to call Subway or something for a Party Platter.”

I was saved from snide comments by a knock; Tito went to get the door. In came Doreen and Irving Weisman. Doreen was the
daughter of the former head diplomatic couple and Irving was her human husband. She was handling her parents’ “disappearance” remarkably well, probably because she’d come to loathe her parents by the time Operation Confusion went down. I couldn’t blame her—I’d loathed them from my first minutes of meeting them, her late mother, Barbara, in particular.

“Geez, where’s Walter? I think we have everyone else conceivable in here.”

Brian shook his head. “Actually not. Michael, Naomi, and Abigail are on their way.” These were Gower’s younger siblings. Michael, like Brian, was an astronaut. Naomi and Abigail, like Jamie, were not only hybrids with an A-C and a human parent, but they also had stronger, mutated talents, which was something female hybrids had over the male ones. It made a lot of sense to have the girls here, and when we needed extra muscle we could trust, if he was on the planet, Michael was our go-to guy.

We’d originally thought Serene was a hybrid, but during Operation Confusion we had discovered she was another one of Ronald Yates’ illegitimate children. She’d handled this news pretty well, mostly because it meant that White was her older brother and Christopher, therefore, her nephew, meaning she actually had family that cared about her.

That Ronaldo Al Dejahl was also her older brother was something we all did our best not to talk about too much. The rest of us were too busy trying not to worry about how many other illegitimate offspring, either hybrid or mutant-level talented, Yates had left around. Sadly, we had to figure there were a lot; when he’d been alive, he’d made Hugh Hefner look like a fuddy-duddy.

“And your mom and dad are with the President,” Jerry Tucker, my favorite flyboy, shared cheerfully, thankfully pulling my mind back from thinking about Yates and his heinous ways. “But we can get them on speakerphone if we need to.”

“Walter’s staying in the Security Center,” Christopher added. As our Acting Head of Security, this made sense. The kid was also still awed to be working with us and determined to be the best security chief anyone could find in any part of the galaxy. I really liked Walter.

“But I’m on the com, Chiefs.”

“Nice to hear your voice, Walt. So, gang, what do we have?”

An alarm went off. “Sorry,” Walter said politely. “But you don’t have time for the briefing, Co-Chief Martini.”

“E
XCUSE ME?” I KNEW HE MEANT ME.
No one ever referred to Jeff as co-anything. The benefits of being in charge for his entire adult life.

“I’m in charge of your calendar right now, Chief, remember?” I did. This was because I’d conveniently “forgotten” the Washington Wife class, so Jeff had added this onto Walter’s list of fun things to do. “You and Jamie have a Mommy and Me class to attend.”

Of all the classes I went to, Mommy and Me was the only fun one. “I love going, but aren’t we in a crisis situation?”

Chuckie nodded. “We are. But we also don’t want anyone aware that we know we’re in a crisis situation.”

“So everyone’s here having a powwow, and yet I’m going to do baby calisthenics?” I felt another pout coming on.

“Yes,” Jeff said firmly. “Having the jocks along will be enough of a change to alert someone that things are off, but I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”

“You could come with me. They encourage fathers to attend.”

“We need him,” Reader said. “We need you, too, but Reynolds is right. We have no idea who the target is, but if we all go into lockdown, we’ll alert the assassin that we’re aware of the plot.”

“And then they’d pick a new target event, and we’d have no head’s up for that and would have lost our window of opportunity. I get it.” I heaved a sigh. “Well, someone let us know if you figure out what’s going on while we’re off being our version of normal.”

I trotted back into the bedroom to find Jamie’s diaper bag all packed and sitting on the bed, along with a baby snowsuit with fluffy faux-fur-lined hood for her and a long, black coat with a less
fluffy faux-fur-lined hood for me. Per Jeff, this was done by the Operations Team. Per me, it was the A-C Elves. I’d certainly never seen any of the Elves in person, at least to my knowledge, and they worked like magic. Christopher liked to try to explain this more comprehensively, but his explanation made my head hurt so I ignored it.

I changed out of my “appropriate” clothes—the Armani fatigues as I called them, white Oxford shirt and black slim skirt to everyone else—since I didn’t have to pretend to be anything but a mom for Mommy and Me. I put on a clean pair of jeans and one of my long-sleeved Aerosmith T-shirts, the ones with the snazzy rhinestones creating the band’s logo. I always felt better with Steven, Joe, and the rest of my boys on my chest.

Under the circumstances, I got my Glock out of the drawer Jeff thought he had it hidden in, made sure it was loaded, and shoved it and a couple of extra clips into the bottom of my purse, focusing on flowers the entire time. Jeff didn’t come in and rip the Glock out of my possession, so I figured the flowers had worked their empathic avoidance magic.

Reader joined me and bundled Jamie into her snowsuit while I got my coat on. It was March but winter was giving spring a good fight to the death. Spring seemed to be winning in terms of flora and fauna, but winter was keeping the cold around until the bitter end. I let the homesickness for Arizona and New Mexico wash over me and then shoved it aside. Danger was back on the case, and that meant me longing for the desert wasn’t going to do us any good.

“I mean it, girlfriend,” he said as he snuggled his goddaughter and got a happy coo in return. “I want you thinking. Reynolds, Kevin, and your mother have run down intel on every terrorist organization known, the ones only the C.I.A. and P.T.C.U. know about and our personal favorites included, and nothing’s coming up. If the threat is real, and we all think it is, then we have to get some kind of handle on things before Saturday night.”

“I’ll do my best, James.” I sighed. “At least you have the others to bounce ideas off of.”

“Use your new personnel. Reynolds says they’re trustworthy, and they certainly helped in Vegas. He also says they’re smart, and we need all the smart we can get now.”

I nodded. Reader wasn’t empathic, but clearly my sulking was obvious, because he put his hand under my chin and moved my head so I was looking at him. “No one’s trying to shove you or Jeff and Christopher out of this. We may have all taken new positions,
but we’re still the same team we were before.” He flashed me the cover-boy grin. “And you know I work best with my best girl helping me.”

I hugged him. “Thanks, James. That makes me feel tons better.” It did. I slung the diaper bag over one shoulder, my purse onto the other, and took Jamie, feeling more cheerful about things. Her Poof was clearly coming along for the ride, and as I checked, so were Poofikins and Harlie. Poof hitchhikers were not an issue. “The Martini Girls are ready for action.”

Reader laughed as he escorted me out. Jeff took Jamie, and Len had her stroller with him. Not only was it top of the line, but there were a lot of A-C bells and whistles on it, including an invisibility cloaking device and a laser shield. Anyone touching the stroller or touching someone in contact with the stroller was in its protection range. For some this would be ridiculous overkill. For us it meant Jeff didn’t have an ulcer from worrying whenever Jamie and I were out of his sight.

We took the elevator down to the first floor, then trooped the rest of the way downstairs. Jeff ensured Jamie’s car seat was secure, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I did my best not to grind against him but, as always, it took effort.

“Be good, baby,” he said softly. “Remember that we don’t know who the target is, and that means it could be you.”

“Or you. Or any one of the others.” I leaned my head against his chest. “I have to wear some fancy dress I don’t have to the ball.”

“Go shopping after class.”

“Yeah, it’s the only way I can be assured of getting something in a color other than black and white and from a designer other than Armani.” A-Cs loved formality, black and white, and Armani, not necessarily in that order. I was all over the wearing of Armani, but sometimes a girl liked a change. “That means shoes, too, you know.”

Jeff grinned. “Happily, you have two men assigned to be with you and ensure your safety. That includes shopping.”

“You and James are the ones with great taste, though.”

“So, if you like more than one thing, get them all, and we’ll decide which one you’re wearing to the party.”

When offered a shopping spree as opposed to a war room summit meeting, I’m sure most girls would vote to head to the mall. But their skills probably didn’t run toward figuring out what the psychopaths and megalomaniacs were up to. Besides, there were hair, jewelry, and makeup concerns I didn’t want to share with Jeff. I did my best to focus on flowers.

Jeff hugged me. “You’re going to be late. We’re all a phone call away. Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself, go enjoy class, and go show that we at American Centaurion like to shop just like everyone else.”

“So shopping is an undercover assignment?”

“Yes.” He patted my bottom and tucked me into the limo.

Kyle closed the door then got in as shotgun. Len took the driver’s seat. Not quite what I’d become accustomed to, but still a lot better than this morning.

“Ready, Ambassador?” Len asked.

“Dudes, seriously, it’s me. And it’s just us in here.”