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Authors: Gini Koch

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BOOK: Alien Diplomacy
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This I knew to be true. “So, why are we assuming assassination?”

“Every major political player will be there, foreign dignitaries, high ranking military…”

“Got it. It’s essentially like shooting fish in a barrel, right?”

“So it seems. Thank you for listening to me,” Oliver said quietly. “I appreciate you and Mister Reynolds occasionally treating me as more than an idiot annoyance.”

I broke down and shot him a smile. However, I neither confirmed nor denied. No reason to let Oliver feel like he was a trusted member of our team, though he certainly seemed to want to be. “You said you had more news.”

“I do. I haven’t shared it yet because I still feel I’m being followed.”

I faked a trip, stopped and checked my shoelace, taking the opportunity to do a quick scan around me. I saw no one and nothing suspicious; however, if they were good, I wouldn’t be likely to spot them anyway. “So now whoever’s following you knows you’re with me,” I said as we started up again. “How is this a good plan? If you have a plan, I mean.”

“You have a beautiful little princess there, and I mean that quite literally. I’m negotiating for another
World Weekly News
exclusive. After all, we got all the pictures from your wedding. It makes sense that we’d want to gain the exclusive baby pictures. And of course I’m approaching you while your husband isn’t around because he’d object, and you might not.”

It was a good story, actually. I figured it was even one Chuckie would approve of, though Oliver was right—there was no way Jeff would okay pics of Jamie being published anywhere, let alone in the tabloid with the worst reputation around. “So, you spend time on that or are you just winging it?”

“Unlike you, I tend to think things out beforehand. However, a good investigative journalist has to be instantly adaptable.”

I decided to let the comment about my ability to plan pass. After all, in some ways, he was right. “Who’s following you?”

“I’m not sure.” We finally reached the limo. Against all the odds, Len had found a street without any cars on it. “Please check the car before we get into it,” Oliver said to Len.

“Why?” Len asked.

“You shouldn’t have left it out of your control.”

I coughed. “They’re special cars.”

“Yes, but even the most advanced car can be tampered with if it’s left unattended.”

Len looked like he felt he was flunking his first assignment. “Len, it’s fine.”

Kyle looked worried. “Not if there’s something wrong. Mister Reynolds will be furious.”

“Dudes, seriously, we leave the limos unattended all the time. But if you have some special way of checking for car bombs, let’s be paranoid. Chuckie will be happy if we find a bomb, in that sense, and pleased with your precautionary instincts if we don’t. Win-win all the way around.”

The SUV we’d been in for a big battle during Operation Fugly had been tampered with. By an A-C. I’d learned early on that we couldn’t really trust anyone and were probably not safe when we thought we were. While Len and Kyle made a couple of phone calls, I did what Reader wanted. I thought. The first thought that came to mind was that ACE had clearly allowed Jamie to share that she liked Oliver. Meaning, there was a reason ACE felt Oliver should be with us right now.

I looked up and down the street. “Why are we the only car on this street?”

“A good question,” Oliver said. He sounded like he thought it was not only good, but that it had occurred to him, too, and he didn’t like his conclusion. I was with him.

“We weren’t when I parked it,” Len said. “Two cars pulled out while I was cruising around, so I took advantage of the opportunity.” He and Kyle exchanged a look. “I think we might want to move away from the limo.”

I did a fast inventory. I had Jamie, my purse, the stroller, and her diaper bag. I didn’t think we had anything of importance in the trunk, and the boys hadn’t brought any paraphernalia with them that wasn’t on their persons. “What about Jamie’s car seat?”

“If I were planting a bomb that wasn’t set to go off when the car started,” Oliver said quickly, as Kyle moved to open the door, “I’d absolutely figure the new mother would want her baby’s car seat.”

Kyle’s hand froze. “That makes sense to me. You think Kitty’s the target? Or the baby?” He growled this last question. I liked overprotectiveness toward my child from our new bodyguard.

“As I already told your superior, I don’t know who the target is. However, Missus Martini is on the guest list for the President’s
Ball, ergo, she’s a potential target.” I realized we weren’t even pretending that Chuckie was just a globetrotting millionaire playboy, nor were we pretending that Len and Kyle were merely along for the ride. Under the circumstances, I decided to table my worry about our lack of good security procedures and just accept that Oliver clearly knew all about us. No one believed him
other
than us, so really, it was back to the bigger issues for me, like getting away from a potentially rigged limousine.

We quickly moved our little group across the street and back down the block. “I’m not that new a mother anymore,” I mentioned to Oliver as I took Jamie out of the stroller and held her tightly.

“Three months is still new,” he said with a smile. “How long for the bomb squad?”

“Not too much longer,” Kyle said shortly. He and Len were busy looking all around. We weren’t exactly being subtle, but no one really seemed to be around to notice.

I dug my phone out of my purse. Jeff answered immediately. “What’s going on? Reynolds has been making urgent calls for the past few minutes and his stress is off the charts.”

“There’s been a lot of that today. Your blocks okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m concerned about my wife and child.”

“We’re fine, as far as we know. We’re with our personal paparazzo. Len found a too-convenient parking place and we’re all waiting for some folks to come and let us know if our limo’s been rigged or not.”

“Reynolds says his people will be there in another minute. How far from the limo are you all?”

“We can still see it.”

“Get farther away.”

“Jeff, really—”

I was going to tell him he was overreacting. Only the limo exploded before I could finish my sentence.

CHAPTER 10

L
EN AND KYLE LEAPED TO COVER ME AND JAMIE.
Mr. Joel Oliver leaped and hit the Laser Shield button on the stroller. I felt it activate as I lost my balance, what with two big guys trying to protect the loose footballs that were me and Jamie.

Oliver grabbed me and held on, keeping me somewhat upright and his hand on the stroller. The boys were touching me, and because my vision was now A-C enhanced, I saw the shield go around all of us.

Just in time. Jeff had been right, we’d been too close to the limo, and a twisted piece of metal slammed against the shield and fell to the street.

“Everyone okay?” I asked as I checked Jamie. She gurgled at me, looked at Oliver, and smiled at him. “And yes, thank you, Mister Joel Oliver, for saving our lives.”

He looked shaken. “I’m concerned I endangered them in the first place.”

“You think that bomb was intended for you?” Kyle asked as he and Len tried to act like they weren’t completely freaked out, with limited success.

“I think it’s possible.”

“It was our limo that had the convenient parking place on the suddenly cleared out street,” I reminded him. Oliver didn’t look convinced one way or the other. I heard someone shouting faintly. I looked around, realized I’d dropped my phone. Len handed it to me. “Jeff, we’re okay.”

“We’re on our way.” He sounded completely shaken. I couldn’t blame him. “Baby, are you and Jamie really all right?”

“Completely unscathed, though scathing would probably have happened to the boys if not for Mister Joel Oliver.”

“The jocks covered you?”

“Yes. They acted just like Secret Service.” Len and Kyle perked up a little. “Chuckie’s people aren’t going to have a lot to look at.”

“They’re not there yet?”

“No. Probably a good thing. The bomb must have been on a timer, not an ignition switch.”

Everyone looked at me. Oliver nodded his head. “I delayed you.”

“Yeah, you did. And if you hadn’t…” I counted in my head. “We’d have been home, or close to it.”

Len was squinting at the remains of our ride. “I think the bomb was in the middle of the car.”

“So it was in the car seat.” Oliver and I looked at each other.

Jeff was growling, well past “rabid dog,” already at “enraged bear,” with “lion takes over the veldt” on the horizon. “They tried to kill my daughter?”

“We don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I think they wanted to ensure we’d have the bomb with us.” I checked my watch. “Did Chuckie order the really slow bomb service?”

“No. There’s some accident on the Beltway, and there’s street construction stopping them. It’s stopping us, too. I could get to you on foot but Reynolds is saying no.”

“He’s right. For all we know, whoever did this is trying to flush you out.” I looked around. People were starting to come out of the buildings, and I heard sirens in the distance. “Jeff, do we want to be questioned by the police? If they ever get here, that is.” I was used to faster response times in Pueblo Caliente. And every other city we’d ever had a situation like this in, which were, by now, plentiful.

I heard him talking to someone. “Reynolds is against it. So is James. Can you hyperspeed out of there?”

“Jeff, I’m with Mister Joel Oliver.” I also didn’t want to test my hyperspeed control when I had Jamie, not to mention the others. I’d hit a couple of walls already, and while I had the snazzy fast A-C healing, it still hurt like hell. Now wasn’t the time to slam other people into brick, let alone risk my daughter.

“I don’t care anymore. I want you and Jamie back in the Embassy where it’s safe.”

“Wouldn’t have been safe if we’d brought that bomb back with us.”

“Good point. Look, get out of there. That’s the overriding direction from me, Reynolds, and all of Alpha Team.”

It was odd to hear that directive and not be one of the people making the decision. However, now wasn’t the time for sulking. Now was the time for speedy casual walking—people on the streets were starting to notice us, particularly because there was car debris right where we were standing. “Dudes, we need to get our little flock out of this part of Dodge. MJO, you have a ride we can borrow?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think we want to take the chance.”

“Public transpo it is. Jeff, tell Chuckie his people should carefully find Mister Joel Oliver’s car and check it out, too, just to be safe.”

“Fine, where should we meet you?”

“Go back to the Embassy. Send a team or two to check out the remains and protect Chuckie’s people. We’re going to do what normal people do and take the bus.” We headed off at a much faster stroll than we’d used to get here.

“Stay on the phone with me.”

“I kind of have my hands full.” I tried to send an emotional signal that I didn’t want to have to share more with Oliver than I had to. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right—exploding cars tended to shake me up for some reason.

Jeff sighed. “Got it. I understand, you don’t want to give away more than we already have to the so-called journalist.”

“You mean the guy who’s clearly right?”

“Yes, yes, Reynolds seems to think he’s worth listening to.”

“He’s the reason we’re alive.”

“Fine, fine. I hate this,” he muttered.

“I know. Me too.” It wasn’t the danger. It was the fact that we weren’t able to do what we both wanted. In the good old days of three months ago, Jeff would already be here, our people would be cleaning up the scene, and we’d be off kicking butt and taking names. Now? Now we had to play pretend because there were a lot of people hiding in the shadows in D.C., literally and figuratively, and Jeff and I were no longer shadowy figures working in the background—we were the faces of American Centaurion.

“I love you, baby. Be careful.”

“I love you, too, and we will be.” We hung up, and I took a deep breath. “Do you boys know where a bus stop is?”

“Really? We’re taking the bus?” Kyle sounded shocked.

“I have no better plan for how we’re going to get back to the Embassy.”

“Taxi?” Len suggested.

Oliver and I exchanged another look. “Do you want to do the honors or shall I?” he asked politely.

“I’ll cover it. Dudes, you know all those conspiracy theories Chuckie undoubtedly drilled you on?” The boys nodded. “He’s never wrong. So whatever he told you about exists, and therefore all the techniques to avoid capture he likely taught you need to be something you’re taking very seriously. Also, someone’s just tried to kill us. They either used a timer or they were watching us and decided we were clued in, hit the super-duper send button, and gave us a big, noisy message. In case the latter option is what’s going on, the next assumption you make is that any taxi stopping for you is driven by one of the bad guys.”

“Like in the movies?” Len asked skeptically.

“Just like. In all my time with American Centaurion, though, I’ve never, ever seen anyone take a bus. Ipso facto, we take a bus, we’re reasonably safe.”

BOOK: Alien Diplomacy
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