Alien in Chief (30 page)

CHAPTER 58

D
IER WAS FAST
but I was faster. Slid toward her like I was trying to steal second while the bullet whizzed over my head and Wruck shouted at her to stop being an idiot. My feet slammed into her legs, which sent her back into the windshield. This knocked the gun out of her hand and it went flying.

Sadly, Wruck caught it. But he didn't turn it on me. Not for lack of trying, but because he couldn't aim and fly at the same time. Clearly he hadn't had Centaurion Division training.

Was able to get the gun away from him. Put it at the back of his head as I hit Dier's head with an excellent side blade kick. Once again, the skills were at optimum and no one was around to be impressed. “You get to choose.”

“Choose what?” he asked carefully. He had a slight German accent. If he hadn't been an enemy, it might have been kind of sexy.

Looked out to see all six of those I'd tossed in the water on the sand bar. Bummer. Oh, sure, they were surrounded by alligators, but they were all alive and, as near as I could see, still had possession of all their body parts. Clearly Georgia gators weren't as feisty as their Florida brethren.

“Whether or not you die.”

“How would I not die?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“There is no Santa Claus.”

“Dude, I can't stand any of you. Seriously, one more crack and I pull the trigger. I won't lose any sleep over it, trust me.”

“Yes, I believe you—I know who your uncles are.”

“Always nice to be infamous. So, what's really going on? As in, why are you Crazy Eights attacking us?”

“Because we got out of prison and want to make the people who put us there pay. Duh.”

“Okay, I'll give you that one. Who let you out?”

He was quiet and I nudged his head with the barrel of the gun. “Casey. She has people on the inside.”

Nice to be right. “Why did she let you out now as opposed to any other time?”

“If I tell you, you'll kill me.”

“No. I keep my word. You tell me what I want to know, you get to live. I find out you've lied to me, then you don't get to live.”

“As if you and your people won't try to kill us all the moment you get the chance?”

“Pot calls kettle black, film at eleven. And, let's be clear—I can kill you and Dier right now, then kill all the others,
and
then
fly your snazzy chopper off, do some impressive maneuvers before I land it on the top of the train, and all before said train reaches Savannah.”

He chuckled. “I'll grant you that one.” He looked at Dier. She was still out. “Fine. We're out to cause problems for you with the aliens who are visiting.”

“Why did you want everyone locked into the War Room?”

“To have everyone in one place.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

Was pretty sure he was lying. “Who sent you and/or gives you your orders?”

He chuckled again. “You know I can't tell you that.”

“What else can you tell me?”

“They're going to be eaten alive, you know.” Wruck nodded his head toward the sand bar. “The only weapons are inside the helicopter and Annette is still knocked out.”

“I care why?”

“Sometimes the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.”

“Name the person in your group who's my friend.”

“I'd say that I am, but you'd think it to be a lie and you'd kill me.”

“Got that right.”

“Honestly, none of us are your friends, at least in the sense that you mean it. However, if the situation was reversed, wouldn't you want whoever had your friends and family in this position to show mercy?”

“Yes, I would. I've been in this position a lot, though. No one ever shows us mercy.” Looked at Dier. “Starting with that bitch right there.”

He'd been waiting for me to be distracted. Discovered this because Wruck spun and grabbed the gun from me before I could react. “And now I have the gun.” He pointed it at my stomach. “And what would you tell me to do with it?”

Considered my options. Jumping out was probably my best choice. I could try to get the gun, but he had it in a position where I was pretty sure he'd shoot me before I got the gun back, hyperspeed or no hyperspeed.

“What I'd like rarely enters into my enemies' consideration.” My music changed to “Fight for All the Wrong Reasons” by Nickelback. Had no idea what Algar was suggesting, but if this was his goodbye song it lacked a certain something. Like Steven Tyler and Joe Perry and the rest of Aerosmith.

“Annette gave you her word that we wouldn't shoot at any of you earlier when I took her off the train. Which is why we didn't.” Wruck handed the gun back to me.
Managed not to let my jaw drop, but it took effort. “I'd like to rescue the others.”

“What about her?” Nodded toward Dier.

“I know she's killed people who matter to you. But I'll also tell you that, right now, you don't want to upset the balance of power in this group.” He stood up. “Hold the stick a moment, though, please.”

Wondering when I was going to wake up, I did as requested. Wruck picked Dier up and tossed her out of the chopper. As he took the stick again I watched Dier hit the water.

“Um . . .”

“Nerida will save her after you threw her out just like you did the others.” He flew off toward the train as, sure enough, water lifted Dier up and sort of tossed her to the others on the gator-filled sand bar. So “save” might have been an overstatement. Perhaps “delay being eaten” would be more appropriate wording. “And I'll manage to shove you out over the train just before you kill me.”

“Okay.” I sat down in the seat next to him, took off the goggles, and put them into my purse. “I'm frankly hella confused right about now.”

Took a good look at him. He was a reasonably attractive man, built more like Chuckie than Jeff. Indeterminate age, but older than me and younger than White was my general guess.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Probably. What's the secret?”

“The enemy of your enemy is your friend.” He turned to me as we slowly flew over the tracks behind the train. His eyes glittered. “Your enemies, your true enemies, are mine as well.”

“You're in deep cover, aren't you?”

He chuckled again as No Doubt's “Undercover” came on. “Deeper than you can possibly imagine.”

“Are you trying to avenge your father's or siblings' deaths, like some of the others are?”

“No.”

Considered this and decided to take the Megalomaniac Girl Leap. “You're not actually one of Ronald Yates' offspring, are you?”

He smiled. “No, I'm not.”

But he was pretending to be. He'd fooled everyone—Mossad, P.T.C.U., C.I.A., F.B.I., Chuckie, the Crazy Eights, Siler, Buchanan. “Why did you sit in supermax for all this time?”

He shrugged. “I had the time. And I needed to be sure.”

“Be sure of what?”

“Who the real enemy is. And I'm sure. My enemies are yours.”

“You said that before, and you said the plural both times. We call our main enemy the Mastermind. There's always been a Mastermind, but who he is changes. But he always has two people he relies on.”

“One he relies on, one he grooms as his replacement.”

I'd have never made this leap if I hadn't met LaRue during Operation Bizarro World and then spent time on Beta Eight during Operation Civil War. But since I had, and since I'd met some other deep cover agents there, my brain was nudging. Especially over him being so casual about sitting in a prison for several years.

“LaRue. Every Mastermind has relied on her. Because she's not human. She's an Ancient. And a Z'porrah spy.”

His lips quirked but he didn't say anything.

“She's dead, you know. Esteban Cantu shot her in the head at the end of Operation Destruction.”

“So I heard.”

“However, she's been cloned. The clone of her I met was a bitchy teenager, but I'm sure she's an adult by now.”

“And?”

“And there's also a clone of Leventhal Reid. He was our second Mastermind. The clone's being groomed to take over if the current Mastermind dies.”

We were over the caboose. “What does that mean?”

“That we have to find all the clones, all the Mastermind's doomsday and kill switch devices and so on before we kill all of them.”

“Correct. Now do you know why I'm in deep cover?”

“Yeah, I think so. It's because you're an Ancient.”

CHAPTER 59

W
RUCK HADN'T BEEN
expecting this answer. At least I figured him losing control of the chopper for a few seconds indicated shock.

He stared at me. “How—”

“Met some other Ancient spies on Planet Colorful when we were visiting the Alpha Centauri system. They were Z'porrah double agents. But you aren't, are you?”

“No,” he growled. “The Z'porrah represent all we hate.”

“Oh, I'm totally with you on that one.” Considered what Bizarro World LaRue had told me. “You were on the crew with LaRue, the crew who came here to see what had happened to the other missionaries who hadn't checked in. On Bizarro World, LaRue murdered her shipmates when they got here. And I'll bet she did the same here. Only . . . you didn't die.”

“No, I didn't. The wound she gave me was almost mortal, but not quite. However, I knew how to play dead. Once she left us, I was able to patch myself up and get to safety. And I've been on this planet, in hiding, ever since. It took me years to find where she'd gone, who she'd joined forces with. And even more years to determine how best to stop her, once and for all.”

“So, you're trying to protect us?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Doing a rather poor job of it, honestly.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Looked at the gun I was still holding. “What would you have done if Dier had woken up while you had the gun on me?”

“Figured out how to lose control of it or the helicopter, while also not allowing you to kill her or her to kill you.”

“Nice. Difficult to do, but apparently you've had a lot of time to practice.”

“I have.”

“It's hard to work alone.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What's the real plan the Mastermind has going?”

“We don't know. He only tells us some things, and only through Annette. Which is why I don't want you to kill her.”

“Yet.”

“Yet.”

Considered things as Algar stuck to a theme and “Undercover Martyn” by Two Door Cinema Club started. “Has the Mastermind released a bioweapon that will kill us?”

“I honestly have no idea. Is that what you think?”

“Right now it's definitely a theory. Everyone in the War Room car is sick. Could be a cold or flu, could be a biological weapon.”

“If that's the case, only Annette would know.”

“Figures. If that is the case, by the way, we're going to need an antidote.”

“Noted. I'll add it to my list of things to do before I die.”

“It's nice to know that at least one Ancient has a sense of humor. Is Casey also in the Mastermind's Inner Circle?”

“No, but she's still tight with Club Fifty-One. She uses them as we need.”

“Like getting you guys out. Did she know about the attempt to blow up the train tracks?”

“No, she was quite angry when we heard about it. Do you know the engineer and conductor are no longer on board?”

“We do. How did they get out?”

“We removed them. Casey set it up. She was furious that they hadn't told her about the bombing, but they insisted that they hadn't been informed. I don't think she believed them.”

“Where are they now?”

“In the ocean. Dead. I told you, Casey didn't believe them and the bomb was not what the Mastermind wanted.”

“Interesting. Is Stephanie one of you?”

“No. We haven't seen her since she was released. There's a lot of bitterness in the group about her. They feel she could have or should have tried to get them out.”

“No honor among terrorists, who'd have thought it? Do you actually know who the Mastermind is?”

“Yes. But I can't tell you.”

“Well, if it's someone other than Cliff Goodman, I'd like you to share that.”

He looked surprised again. “How long have you known?”

“A while now. We all know. We're just not killing him because of all those doomsday plans and clones and such. And the fact that we have literally zero proof that he
is
the Mastermind.”

“He's good and he learned from the best.”

“Supposedly. I'm just going to say that, ultimately, we're better.”

“I certainly hope so. I've spent a lot of time betting on that.”

“Nice to have the support. What did you guys do with the Secret Service and other security people we had waiting for us at Rocky Mount?”

“Nothing, there were none there. We'd expected opposition, but there was none.”

Interesting. That probably meant that they'd been taken out by Drax's people. Hoped they were all still alive. Though they probably were—why get rid of bargaining chips when your sales pitch has gone totally sideways? No point in asking Wruck if he'd seen any Invisible Commandos, either,
though it might be interesting to see how far past eleven his sarcasm knob went.

“How will I reach you?”

Wruck looked at me with surprise. “You won't. You can't tell anyone about me. And I won't tell anyone about you, or about what you know.”

“Well, you can't, because you'd have to tell them about you. Duh.”

He laughed. “Good point.”

“You don't have to be alone.”

He sighed. “Yes, I do. I'm the only one of my kind here.”

“So was the Martian Manhunter, but he still had friends in the Justice League and even went off and got married and stuff.”

“I can't help you if I'm with you. Do you understand that?”

“Then why tell me who you are?” Other than crushing loneliness. But I was careful not to say that aloud.

Wruck shook his head. “Honestly? I don't know why I did, other than that I knew you weren't going to kill me and I couldn't kill you.” He landed the chopper sideways on the roof of the caboose. “You're who they fear the most. Because you don't fear them.”

“Oh, they scare me, especially what they're willing to do. I'm just not willing to let them win. Ever. So, you know, you feel the fear and do it anyway.” Sales and marketing training had really been helpful in my Centaurion career, as I thought about it. “What do your friends call you?”

“Rudy.”

“Do you like the nickname?”

“It's not my name, my real name, at any rate, but it's fine.”

“What's your real name? In whatever form human ears can comprehend.”

“It would translate to John. Not in meaning but in sound.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

So he really was the Martian Manhunter. “Then why not use John?”

“Because I'm undercover.”

“Gotcha. Last name isn't really yours, either?”

“We tend not to use last names. My . . . wife's name would sound like Ruck, so I chose a human equivalent with Wruck.”

“Is your wife still alive?”

He was quiet for a moment. “No.”

“I'm sorry.”

He nodded. “She died before I was sent to Earth. It was why I volunteered for the mission. In those days, traveling here took much longer than it does now.”

“Progress, yay. Your accent is faked?”

“Yes,” he said in perfect American English. “It is. I'm a man of many talents, me.” This was with a perfect British accent. “It helps me blend in when I need to.” Now he sounded Australian.

“I'm impressed. You could have quite the career in the movies. I like the German, by the way, but could get used to any of the others.”

“I'll keep it in mind.”

“What do you really look like, John?”

“You mean as Ancients? And why are you using my real name?”

“Yes, as an Ancient, what do you look like? And I'm using your real name because we're in the Helicopter of Silence and this is where we tell each other the truth and use our real names and all that jazz.”

I didn't really believe that I'd seen what any of the Ancients really looked like, just the acceptable forms they felt the people around them could deal with.

He gave me a small smile. “Got it . . . Kitty. And, we don't look like angels or devils or little green men or grays. Well,
not in reality. When our people came here long, long ago they took on shapes that helped, ah, soothe or awe the masses.”

“Okay and not a surprise. Then what
do
you look like?”

“Get out and onto the roof, and then I'll tell you.”

Did as he asked, in part because I had to figure that Jeff was losing his mind with worry. “So, tell me.” Had to shout.

“We look like you,” he shouted back. “Like all of you on Earth and all of you in the Alpha Centauri system. Only more so.”

And with that he flew off.