Alien Collective (13 page)

“M
ALCOLM,
figure out how to keep Nightcrawler under control. We have a situation and I think saving a little old lady is going to take precedence over our Junior Assassin.”

Explained the phone call and how it had ended while Buchanan used his doohickey to figure out where Mrs. Maurer actually was, or at least had been.

“You sure you can trust this?” Christopher asked. “She could be playing you, to get you to come save her and go right into a trap.”

“She could have been, and I’m not saying she wasn’t. But she was crying and I think it was real. And . . . from what she said . . . I think . . .” Considered if I should say what I thought out loud, in front of Siler. Then again, out of everyone in the room, he’d be the least surprised. “I think Cameron Maurer has been turned into an android.”

To their great credit, none of the men with me asked if I was high or just guessing wildly. “Why?” Jeff asked.

“He used to be pro-alien, took the family to Europe for vacation, and came back a raging xenophobe who isn’t the man this woman raised anymore.”

“Sounds right,” Siler said.

“I have to ask—since when do assassins take this level of interest in all this political brouhaha?”

Siler laughed. “Since always. Sometimes we’re killing good guys. And sometimes we’re killing bad guys to stop them from killing good guys.”

“Whoever pays best and/or contracts first?”

“Something like that. And your uncles have taken a greater interest because of you. We police our own, and you have one of our own we want dead.”

“Oh, Annette Dier. Yeah, that bitch is still alive, and giving us nothing. Maybe later, after we save the scared old lady, I’ll ask my mom to let you have a go at her.”

Siler raised his eyebrow. “Seriously? You’re going to trust me with that kind of prisoner access?”

“If we let you live that long,” Buchanan said. “However, if we want to save Missus Maurer or, you know, head right into a trap, we need to move.” He pulled a pair of handcuffs I didn’t even know he carried out of somewhere and slapped one end onto Siler’s right wrist and the other onto his own left wrist. “I’ll be keeping you close. And don’t think that you can use hyperspeed on me to cause me issues. Our good doctor’s solved that particular problem.”

Hyperspeed was hard as hell on humans—it always caused vomiting, and blacking out wasn’t uncommon. Tito was amazing, however, and he’d figured out how to create a Hyperspeed Dramamine. Every human agent working with American Centaurion and Centaurion Division took it daily.

Fortunately, when we’d lost all of our data, Tito’s laptop had been offline and off system. Meaning we had all his research, which had included the secret formula for this medicine. We had only his research or whatever information his laptop had held, but, as I was reminded by our scientific teams and Hacker International, some data was a lot better than none.

“You think it’s a trap, Malcolm?”

“No idea, Missus Chief. I think we’re going to go in ready, however.”

As soon as Siler was officially in Buchanan’s custody, Prince trotted back over to me. He respected Buchanan as an impressive officer, but Jeff had saved Prince’s life during Operation Assassination and they had a Special Bond too, as far as Prince was concerned.

Jeff knew it, too, and though he tried to pretend he didn’t think Prince was better than any other animal, he thought the dog was smart and brave. Jeff hoisted Prince under his arm and took my hand with his free one. “Where are we headed?”

Buchanan sighed. “Bartholdi Park.”

“Isn’t that around the U.S. Botanic Garden?” Tito asked. “That’s close to the Capitol.”

“Which makes a lot of sense for where she could go alone,” Buchanan said. “She was at Cleary-Maurer headquarters earlier, and that’s not too far from the Gardens.”

I grabbed Tito’s hand, and Christopher took Siler’s uncuffed one. Thusly connected, we headed out of the embassy. “Should we lock up behind us?”

“No,” Buchanan said. “I’ve asked for teams to come in and verify that the building is sound.” He looked at Siler out of the side of his eye. “Unless there’s something else you’d like to tell us about.”

Siler shook his head. “No, if you found all the bombs, it’s clean.”

“How many were there?” I was just curious about how badly Siler had wanted to kill me and himself.

“Seven,” Siler replied.

“Eight,” Buchanan countered.

Siler stopped. “No. There were seven.”

“He’s not lying.” Jeff sounded worried.

“We found eight,” Buchanan said. Christopher nodded. “One was on a shorter timer than the others.”

“I only put seven in. How many did they find at the Israeli embassy? I planted seven there, too.”

“Eight again,” Buchanan replied. “And one there was on a shorter timer than the others. We assumed it was the trigger and the others were on separate timers in case triggering didn’t work.”

“No. They were set to give me plenty of time to ensure I was out of range and so was anyone who we cared about, and by ‘we’ I think you know who I mean, and by anyone we cared about, I mean Miss Katt here and those in her ever-widening circle.”

“Wow, you’re big on dropping the clues all of a sudden.” The only people who called me Miss Katt with any regularity since I’d married Jeff were my “uncles” the assassins. Meaning Siler wanted us to know that he was working with them, without confirming so out loud. Why was the Question of the Moment, which I filed as question fifty-one after the fifty other Questions of the Moment this afternoon’s festivities had identified as being vital to answer.

“We need to be sure there aren’t any more bombs in here, or in the Israeli embassy, especially since there are a ton of people
in
the Israeli embassy.” Why I was the one having to point this out was just another one of Life’s Little Mysteries today seemed determined to share with me.

“We can’t do this and save Missus Maurer at the same time,” Jeff pointed out.

“Malcolm, Nightcrawler, and Christopher could stay here and search. Christopher could get them to safety if needed. And the four of us are equipped to handle anything.”

“We are?” Tito asked.

“Hush.”

Buchanan made the exasperation sound. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but fine. By now, Missus Maurer could be long gone, either via abduction or simply a lack of patience waiting for you to show up to save her. Or their trap could be all set up. Or all of the above.”

“Keep in touch,” Jeff said. “Find out what Siler was going to tell Kitty before she got this call, too. Trust me,” he said to Siler, “they’ll use far more unpleasant methods than mine. Cooperate, you’ll be happy you did.” Then we took off.

I stopped us as soon as we were out of sight of the embassy, which, thanks to hyperspeed, was a second later. “Jeff, you and Prince need to go to the Israeli embassy.”

“Yeah,” he said as Prince shared that he didn’t have Tito’s Special Hyperspeed Dramamine and hacked. But, even though Jeff was still holding him, he hacked away from us. What a good dog. “I picked up what you want to do. I’m not wild about your plan, though.”

“My parents and some of our closest friends are at the Israeli embassy, and while we all think everyone’s found all the bombs, Siler may be the only one who can be sure. Everyone else, besides the six of us and Prince, are at the Pontifex’s Residence. Siler confirmed that everyone’s trying to herd us. Maybe it’s our friends who want us in Dulce. Our enemies probably just want us all somewhere they can blow up conveniently. You know everyone’s going to listen to you more than me on this one.”

“Not necessarily.” Jeff’s turn to make the exasperation sound. “I don’t want you going alone, and before either one of you start listing your competencies, you’re not A-Cs.”

Dug my phone out and made the call. He answered right away. “Missus Martini, how go things wherever you happen to be?”

“Interestingly as always, Mister White. I need you and your mad skills over at Bartholdi Park. Please don’t tell anyone where you’re going, if you’d be so kind. Jeff will be there shortly and share the news at that time.”

“As always, I live to serve. I’ll bring your catsuit with me?”

“Indeed. I should be there in, oh, five minutes. If I don’t get lost.”

“Ah. Won’t be a moment.” He hung up.

Shrugged and dropped my phone back into my purse. “Richard will meet me.”

“Actually,” White said from behind me, “I felt it would be wiser to find you and have us go together. I’m sure Jeffrey would prefer that as well.”

“How did you know where we were?”

White held up his phone. “GPS tracking. I had our computer specialists teach me how to track anyone using my phone.”

“Wow.” That had never occurred to me. Decided to save being bitter that White hadn’t shared until now for a later time.

“Dog with me or you?” Jeff asked, in the resigned tone of someone who’s played out the argument in his head already and has accepted his crushing defeat.

“You. Officer Melville will be worried about him.”

Prince was done barfing and he barked. He objected to this plan. Emphatically.

“Or, um, Richard could carry Prince.”

Prince wuffed that this was far more acceptable.

“The dog is insisting on going with you?” Jeff’s tone was now Man Resigned to Living in a Mental Institution.

“Yes.”

“I’ll go with you, Jeff,” Tito said, clearly trying not to laugh. “I want to make sure everyone there is fully organic anyway. I think we’re going to want the reassurance.”

“How will Kitty and Richard know if Missus Maurer is a human or not?”

“We’ll wing it.”

“Oh,” Jeff said as I leaned up and kissed him. “So, routine.”

J
EFF GAVE PRINCE TO WHITE,
White took my hand in his free one, and the three of us zipped off.

“Glad you’re here, Mister White.”

“I realized I’d be waiting for you for hours if I didn’t ensure I was with you to navigate.”

“I’ll hurt you later, Rick honey.”

“Is it time for our supersecret code names, Kathy?”

“Could be.” Brought White up to speed on what had transpired since Prince and I had gone outside. “So, I don’t even know where we start to figure out what the hell is going on,” I said as we reached an alley near the park where we could stop running at hyperspeed and so “appear” to human eyes without any humans seeing us do so.

“I believe we’re heading for the most urgent issue,” White said as he put Prince down and the dog started to again barf his guts up. White handed me sunscreen.

“Wow, call you Mister Thoughtful. Thanks. How’d you know I’d need a refresher?”

“I know how fast you sunburn, we were heading to and are at an outdoor location, and what with all the excitement, it seemed likely that reapplication of protective creams hadn’t occurred to you.”

“Wise man always plans ahead. But,” I said as I slathered the sunscreen on my face and any other exposed skin, “I think bombs all over the place, some containing poisoned gas, are more urgent than even my remaining sunburn and skin cancer-free or Missus Maurer’s suspected abduction.”

He shook his head. “No one, and I do mean no one, has been harmed. You yourself remarked on this earlier. The status remains the same. More bombs have gone off around the city, however. Key locations, no one injured, not too much damage. No one has claimed responsibility yet, not even the Al Dejahl group.”

“Really? That seems . . . even odder than everything else.”

“We all agree with you. James has kept all bases on high alert. Dulce in particular is being searched from top to bottom, drainage pipe included.”

Didn’t say anything about the pipe—because I couldn’t. I was prevented from speaking about what was unusual about the drainage pipes in the Science Center, even when I was with White or Gower, the only other people who knew the truth about the A-C’s God in the Machine. Said “God” prevented us from talking about him unless we were in his presence.

Algar wasn’t really a god, though. He was one of the Black Hole People and a major criminal as far as they were concerned. In our part of this galaxy, he was the Operations Team for all of the A-Cs worldwide.

When I’d first joined up, I’d nicknamed the Operations Team the Elves, because they did all their work by what seemed like magic, even though Christopher had given me a very scientific answer, and I’d never, ever seen or met one of them.

Turned out, my magic idea was closer to the truth, not that I could crow about this to Christopher, or anyone else for that matter. Since the beings from the Black Hole Universe, which included the Poofs, were so far advanced from those of us in the Milky Way galaxy that the tricks they could pull certainly seemed like magic. Algar had an entire planetary population thinking that there were A-Cs, and lots of them, doing the Operations jobs, when in fact all of Operations was made up of just one rakishly handsome dwarf from another universe with a seriously impressive set of skills.

Algar was also something of a jerk, though a jerk who cared about us, at least in his own way. I called him the King of the Elves whenever we were talking, and I always meant it sarcastically.

For certain, Algar knew what was going on. But now wasn’t the time to try to contact him to see if I could extract any kind of hint.

There was another entity I’d have liked to talk to. ACE was a superconsciousness that had been set up by the Alpha Four system to watch over Earth and keep us all, Jeff and Christopher in particular, basically on the planet. Like Algar, ACE’s powers were so vast that, compared to the rest of us, it was a god, too. I’d channeled ACE into Gower and that had been great. For a while.

But ACE had done more than it was supposed to in order to protect Earth and the beings on it that ACE cared for—and our observer loved all of his “penguins,” though he did have his favorites. Turned out that even gods or godlike entities have to answer to their own versions of the Supreme Court. ACE had been taken from us, and only Naomi’s last minute mega-power surge and sacrifice had brought ACE back. But not as he’d been before.

ACE now resided in Jamie, which partly helped to control him, and in a larger part protected her. Due to the fact that I wasn’t willing to have scary discussions about people trying to destroy the world with my little girl, I couldn’t talk to ACE as I’d been able to in the past. Now, Jamie needed to be asleep—so ACE could keep the conversations from her—and it didn’t hurt if I was asleep, too. My dreams were a lot funkier than they had been, but I was getting better with interpretation. However, now was a poor time for a nap.

Prince finished barfing as I finished with the sunscreen. Dropped the rest of the sunscreen into my purse and we started off.

As the three of us wandered around the park area, looking and sniffing for a little old lady who was crying, looking scared, or being dragged off, I really wanted to ask either ACE or Algar what the hell was really going on. But while ACE would want to tell me but probably couldn’t, and Algar could tell me but undoubtedly wouldn’t, accessing either one of them was out of the question for right now.

“You see or smell anything?” I asked finally.

“Nothing untoward,” White said.

Prince wuffed that he smelled and heard a heck of a lot, but no one nearby was in distress, at least not the kind of distress we’d been expecting.

“Think it’s a trap?”

“I believe that Mister Buchanan has a tendency to be correct. However, that doesn’t mean Missus Maurer was lying to you. Your penchant for protecting the weak and innocent is well known.”

“Yeah, Lillian Culver said the same thing earlier.”

“She thinks quite highly of you.”

“Oh, fantastic. She’s one of the Dealers of Death, you know.”

“I do. However, we need her and she needs us. And of course Monsieur Gadoire.”

“Two out of three ain’t bad, right?”

White stopped walking and looked at me. “There’s another Dealer, correct?”

“Alcohol, since Lillian covers weapons and Gadoire tobacco. Probably others. I don’t pay a lot of attention.”

“I’m shocked to my core.”

“Sarcasm is still such an ugly trait in a Retired Pontifex.”

“And my shame still knows no bounds. Who is the person in charge of the Alcohol lobby?”

“No idea, I’m sure Lillian or Vance know. Why?”

“Why hasn’t that person tried to curry favor with us?”

“Because we don’t drink?”

“We don’t smoke, as a rule, either. And yet, Monsieur Gadoire wants us on his side.”

“The Cabal of Evil didn’t include an Alcohol person, that’s true. But why does it matter? Or, more importantly, why does it matter right now?”

White sighed. “Gideon Cleary’s family own one of the top distilleries in the world. Per Mister Joel Oliver.”

“Other than pointing out how at odds with him we are and how well funded his campaign will be, I’m still not seeing your point.”

“We’ve been on this planet for decades. The assumption, which no one has said anything to alleviate, is that those who approached you and Jeffrey when you became the ambassadors were those who already had relationships with the former Diplomatic Corps. And yet whoever lobbies for the quite large, powerful, and wealthy alcohol collective has never approached either one of you. I find that odd.”

“I find myself again thinking you should be our Head Diplomat. I also find myself thinking that we’ve wandered this entire lovely park and haven’t found our target. I realize you’re passing the time by trying to make me think of whatever you think the bigger picture is, but honestly all I see is a lot of crap flying at us from all directions, and all I really want to do is hunker down and avoid getting hit.”

“Could that be the plan?” White asked.

“It does seem like everyone wants us herded to Dulce, yeah. But why is the big question. We don’t seem infiltrated, or if we are, everyone over there is acting completely naturally and doing their jobs just like always.”

“I don’t believe we’ll be infiltrated as easily, or at least in the same way, again,” White said quietly. “Gladys killed Ronaldo and sacrificed herself for a reason.”

Prince pricked up his ears and listened intently before I could reply. It wasn’t exactly silent around here, so I wasn’t sure what he was picking up, but he was clearly hearing something. Something that, as he shared while he trotted toward the street, we needed to investigate immediately. He waited for us and we crossed the street together, going into the main Gardens.

“Think she went in here or was taken here?” I asked White as we trotted along behind Prince, who remained quite intent.

“I think it’s the most secluded and likely to be unpopulated area around here, at the moment.”

“Normally I’d disagree with you, because this is prime wandering the gardens time if you’re a tourist. But what with all the bombs going off, I’d bet most tourists and everyone else are trying to stay inside. It’s sure less crowded around here than I’d have figured, especially since there was a protest nearby not all that long ago.”

White and I looked at each other. “That would seem to be the case, wouldn’t it?” he mused. “And as you frequently point out, our enemies like to have their attacks do double duty, at minimum, if at all possible.”

We were pulled away from this line of reasoning by Prince’s low growl. The Gardens had a pretty, sunken water fountain at the far side from where we’d started, and we were now close to it. You took a short flight of steps down from the main Garden area and there it was, looking sort of geometric and sort of
Alice in Wonderland
, at least to me. It was very shallow—so shallow that a parent wouldn’t worry about letting their toddler play here, not that this was a play area.

There were a few tables with umbrellas and chairs scattered about. But what Prince was growling at wasn’t the tables—it was the fountain. Or, more correctly, what was in the fountain.

A woman was facedown in the water. And while the water wasn’t all that deep, it was deep enough for someone to drown in if they were unconscious.

White and I didn’t hesitate, we both ran to her at hyperspeed. He picked her up and got her out of the fountain. He had her down on the ground and was doing CPR on her within a second.

To prevent myself from cursing the fact that I hadn’t insisted Tito come with us, I looked around. There was no blood that I could see, either in the water or around the fountain. Did a fast check for lurkers nearby—none.

Prince did his own check and I went with him. He went to the edge of the street and stopped. The assailants had taken off, probably in a car. “Good try, boy. We’ll find them later. I’m pretty damn sure they work for her son’s campaign.”

We trotted back to White. Our victim was sitting up. She looked soaked in front and banged up, but miraculously she both wasn’t bleeding and was breathing. The tightness in my chest relaxed. “Squeaky?”

She nodded. “I said I was going to meet a friend in here. Those thugs insisted on coming with me. I went to look at the water and someone hit me on the back of my head and shoved me down. I . . . I don’t know how you found me.”

Patted Prince’s head. “We have the best police dog in the world on our team. Squeaky, meet Prince, the Dog Who Always Saves the Day.”

Prince gave me a lick to show his appreciation for his Special Title, then trotted over to Mrs. Maurer and gave her a good sniffing. He then snorted, growled, and wuffed.

“Yeah, got it. Richard, Prince says the scent he was following is on Squeaky here, too. He’ll recognize it if he smells it again. Apparently her assailant is dedicated to the entire line of Axe Apollo products and has a particularly icky sweat signature to go along with his less than stellar taste in personal fragrances.”

“I’m overjoyed to not have a canine’s sense of smell,” White said. “How did he recognize the specific personal body care product, though?”

“Officer Melville is very thorough. Prince can identify every manufactured scent on the market today. Along with every illegal substance. He’s The Super Sniffer.” As he’d proved during Operation Sherlock. I had full faith that if Mrs. Maurer’s assailant was in range, Prince would find him.

“Impressive. We need to get Missus Maurer to Doctor Hernandez.”

“I feel fine, now that I’m conscious and can breathe. I’d like to get into some dry clothing, though.”

“Not sure we want to take you home. I’d normally suggest that we just take you back to our Embassy and have our people outfit you, but that’s not an option right now.”

“I think I’ll go wherever you suggest, Ambassador. And Mister White.” She gave White a fluttering smile while he gallantly helped her up and gave her a manly, comforting smile in return. He was dating Nurse Carter, but White was absolutely a ladies’ man of the highest, smoothest order. Realized that he’d probably inherited that trait from his father and filed it away for later consideration.