Alien Diplomacy (9 page)

The boys didn’t look convinced, but they didn’t argue, either. Len pulled up the bus routes on his cell phone and we walked on.

“We’re a few blocks away from a bus stop,” Len said uncertainly. “But I don’t think it’s a route that’ll take us back to the Embassy.”

He showed his phone to me. “Dude, I’m clueless here, still. The streets confuse the hell out of me.” They did. Pueblo Caliente, Arizona, where I’d been born and raised, was set up on a nice grid system. It made the streets less “interesting,” but it was hard to get lost there.

D.C., on the other hand, seemed to live for winding streets that turned into circular turns and ended up dead-ending when you’d swear they should take you somewhere. I could no more look at the bus routes Len was showing me and know which line we needed than I could design a rocket ship. I’d probably have better luck with the rocket.

Oliver took a look. “He’s correct. Though we can do several transfers.”

I considered this. Taking the bus and going somewhere made sense. Taking the bus and then transferring several times didn’t seem like a way to stay under the radar. “Where would the bus we’re close to take us?”

“One of the nicer shopping districts,” Oliver replied. He looked at Len’s phone again. “I believe the next bus will be arriving right about the time we’ll reach the stop.”

“Super.” I pulled my phone out and dialed. “Hi, Jeff, where are you?”

“Still in the car, heading back to the Embassy. Where are you?”

“Heading to a bus stop. I’m taking the boys and going shopping.”

“Why? You were all almost killed.”

“Yes, but I don’t have anything to wear to the ball. And unless a fairy godmother’s going to show up and turn some fruits, veggies, and unsuspecting rodents into things to wear and ride, I need a dress.”

“True. I just don’t understand why you want to take care of that right now.”

“We’re not conveniently located, buswise. I figured we’d shop, and you could send another car to pick us up.”

Jeff sighed. “Yes, fine.” I heard someone talking in the background. “James wants to know if you’ve come up with anything.”

“Someone doesn’t like us.”

“Other than that. He’s stressing that time is of the essence.”

“No. We haven’t had time to get Mister Joel Oliver’s intel.”

“He’s still with you?”

“Yep. We bonded over exploding vehicles.”

“Fabulous. I’m going to have Gladys track you.” He sighed again. “I mean, I’m going to ask Alpha Team to track you.” I heard the voice in the background again.

“What’s James saying?”

“That I’m allowed to sound like I’m still in charge.” He sounded frustrated, worried, and depressed.

“You are. You always will be, no matter what title you have.”

“I love you. Be careful, buy whatever you like, spend whatever you need. Go to good dress shops.”

I sighed. “I know. I will. When will someone be coming to get us?”

“James says he has that taken care of already. Huh? Oh, he says to take your time.”

“First it’s hurry up, then it’s take my time. A girl could get confused around here.”

“I promise to clear up when to rush and when to hurry later tonight.”

“I love how you think.” We hung up and I gave the boys a bright smile. “Change of plans. We’re going to kill two birds with a pile of gravel. MJO, lucky you, you get to help me find a dress for the President’s Ball.”

He grinned. “I consider it an honor.”

“No photos.”

“Of course not. At least, that you’ll know about.”

We still had a few blocks to walk, and I decided to make the most of the day. I pulled my iPod out and tuned to my Kick Butt Mix. I hadn’t gotten to listen to this frequently over the past few months, but I figured us surviving our limo blowing up was a good reason to give it a whirl. As I clipped the iPod to my jeans, a taxi cruised by. The boys looked at it longingly.

We started off again, and another taxi went past us. Then another. As yet another taxi went by I looked harder. “It’s the same taxi,” I shared, while noting that Chuckie’s conspiracy theories were again being proved true.

“The others behind it have circled the block as well,” Oliver said.

The taxis got closer. “Want a ride?” the driver of the first taxi asked. He was wearing a cap and sunglasses, and he had a beard on that looked extremely fake to me.

“Nope.”

“My rates are cheap,” the man said as the other taxis pulled up behind this one. The drivers all looked like they were trying to hide what they really looked like and I was sure this guy was disguising his voice. Not good. “It’s nice and safe in my cab,” he added.

As the sounds of “Animal” by the Neon Trees came on, I made a command decision. Jamie was still in my arms, but I decided keeping her there was probably best. I put my purse around my neck, and ensured I had a good, safe grip on my baby, holding her body against my stomach and her head against my chest, in the age-old “fleeing from the evil overlords” pose so popular with pretty much every mother who’d ever had to run for it with child or children in tow. “Poofies, into Kitty’s purse. Len, take the stroller. Everyone, follow me and stick together.”

“What are we doing?” Kyle asked as the taxi drivers all started to get out of their cars.

“Running like hell for that bus stop.”

I
WANTED TO GO TO HYPERSPEED,
potential to slam into walls or no, but I didn’t want to lose the boys or Oliver. It was hard to run holding Jamie this way, but that also kept me from hitting the internal hyperspeed button.

“Animal” was an exceptionally good song to run to, so that was a positive. The fact that the men in the taxis were back in their cars and chasing us, however, wasn’t.

Oliver was a good runner. Clearly, being a paparazzo had certain fitness benefits attached to it. The boys had played football for their entire lives, so they were in great shape. And my track skills were constantly being kept up-to-date. We were good. Not able to outrun a car unless I took us all to hyperspeed, but as far as post-graduate track stars, we had a shot for at least the bronze for relay in the Extremely Amateur Olympics.

On the plus side, no one was shooting at us. Either they didn’t have guns, weren’t supposed to kill us, or didn’t want to draw extra attention. I was just happy to have any small favor going for us.

The other thing in our favor was that the taxi drivers had no idea where we were going. Sadly, I had no idea, either. “MJO! You need to get us to our destination.”

He ran in front of us and took a sharp left. We ran down an alley that was too small for a car. Oliver ran us down to another turning point, this time we went right. He slowed down. “Carefully,” he said as we neared the street.

A taxi whizzed by. I was positive it was one of the ones after us. Oliver peered out. “Go!” He took off again, going back the way we’d come. The boys and I followed him.

We hit the intersection and the light was thankfully with us. We dashed through as the taxis came around again. They were now on the wrong side of the road, meaning they couldn’t pull up to the curb, at least not without causing a major traffic incident.

Oliver was puffing, but we were still running at a good clip, him in the lead, then me and Jamie, with Kyle flanking us, and Len and the stroller bringing up the rear. As “Parade” by Garbage came on, the calm part of my mind mentioned that this had to look hilarious. The rest of my mind suggested we laugh about it later, when we were actually somewhere safe.

We turned again and seemed to lose the taxis. For about half a block. “Coming toward us,” Kyle shouted, and this time the taxis were again on our side of the street.

All three taxis were heading for us, but they were several cars away when Oliver ran into traffic. The squealing of tires was impressive, but he wasn’t hit. The rest of us followed him. I was shocked, and grateful, but just like in the movies, the cars slammed on their brakes to avoid hitting us. Amid a great deal of cursing from the various drivers and the distinct sound of slamming metal, we dashed on.

“Two of the taxis slammed into each other,” Len shouted. “But one’s still coming.”

“Where the hell are the cops in this city?” We were fleeing in the streets with tires squealing all around us, yet there were no cops around, implied, or suggested.

“No idea,” Kyle shouted back. “But I don’t smell a whiff of bacon.”

I managed a laugh but decided I’d tell Kyle how much I enjoyed that little saying once we were safe somewhere. Oliver turned right, and I could see the bus stop, and the bus, in the distance. We all sped up.

The remaining taxi reappeared, driving on the other side of the street, but keeping pace with us. That meant he was going slowly for the street, and there was again a lot of honking and cursing. I didn’t know if all the attention we were drawing from the various drivers made us safer or not, but it certainly wasn’t bringing out D.C.’s finest to investigate. I didn’t want to be questioned by the police, but that sounded a lot better than whatever the taxis had in store for us.

I chose to hope that the only paparazzo around was running ahead of me. The thought of this little foot race making any kind of news was enough to make me want to go into witness protection.
Not that there were any law enforcement officers around to suggest it to.

We reached the bus stop as the bus pulled up. Oliver ushered me and Jamie on first. The bus driver stared at us. “You folks in a hurry?”

“Just didn’t want to miss you,” I gasped out as I rummaged around for some money.

Oliver shoved a twenty at the driver. “For all of us.” He and I found seats in the back where there were no other passengers, while the boys got the stroller collapsed and it and themselves inside in record time.

I took Jamie out of the Fleeing Position. She cooed at me. “That’s my good little babycat,” I said as I kissed her nose. “You’re my little ready-for-action girl, aren’t you?”

I looked out the window as the bus doors closed and we started off. The taxi driver was still across the street. He tipped his cap to me and drove off.

The bus drove past the street where the other taxis had collided. They were still in the street, but the drivers were nowhere around.

Len cleared his throat. “Are you and Jamie okay?”

“Yeah. How about you guys?”

“Nice workout,” Oliver said with a laugh.

The boys, however, looked sheepish, worried, and upset, and they didn’t answer my question. I sighed. “Guys, really. You’re still learning. It happens.”

Len shook his head. “We’re supposedly fully trained. If you’d let us, we would have gotten into one of those taxis.”

“But I didn’t let you.” I patted his hand. “You did great.”

“How so?” Kyle asked, clearly as upset as Len. “If it wasn’t for Mister Joel Oliver here, we’d all be dead.”

I patted his hand, too. “But we’re not. We call this learning on the job.”

“Our job is to protect you,” Len reminded me.

“Yeah, it is. My job is also to protect myself, my baby, and anyone with me. I’m better at that job because I’ve been doing this longer.” Happily, no one was with us who could contradict me. “MJO, were our, ah, friends the same ones you’d spotted earlier?”

“Sadly, no. At least, not that I could tell.”

We all looked out the windows again. “I don’t see anyone or anything suspicious.” The men chimed in with the lack of suspicious. “So I guess we can sort of relax. For the moment anyway. So how long are we on the bus for?”

“Several miles,” Oliver replied.

“I’m willing for that to take a while.”

No sooner were the words out of my mouth than the bus pulled over. Doors opened, no one got on or off. We looked at each other. The bus started up again. And stopped at the next block. Same thing.

We lurched along, stopping at every block, listening to the other passengers mutter to themselves and each other about this ridiculous situation until my brain kicked. “Oh. Um. We can relax and let the bus driver drive the way he knows how to do. Best. And all that.”

The men all gave me the “you so crazy” look. However, I hadn’t been talking to them. Jamie sighed, and I could have sworn she gave me a “make up your mind” look. But the bus continued on, this time not stopping except for traffic lights and legitimate bus stops.

As we made our way, more passengers got on. We were no longer alone in the back. We all scrutinized said passengers, but none of them seemed either interested in us or a threat. Well, none of them were interested in us, but a couple of them made smiley goo-goo faces at Jamie. They appeared to be people who liked to smile at cute little babies, so we all smiled back.

“Do you want to call the ambassador?” Len asked quietly.

“No. Why stress him out any more than he undoubtedly is?” I didn’t want to admit that I was actually trying to avoid a lecture or a fight. Jeff had wanted to come get us, which now seemed like it might have been the smart plan. But, oh, well. Improvisation was my middle name, right?

I focused on feeling calm and relaxed, so that if Jeff was monitoring he’d know we were all okay. My phone rang. “Do I want to know?” Jeff asked.