by Gini Koch
“I’ll second that. But you didn’t see it coming because you don’t read the papers and you had no idea who he is. And before you try to lie and say you stay up on things, Pierre confirmed that, the few times you pick up a newspaper, you only look at the funnies and the sports sections.”
“Not my fault newsprint is dead.”
“Right. So, anyway, for most people in this town, the Tastemaker calling them would be cause for panic. For you, it was an opportunity for you practice your on-the-fly sarcastic comebacks.”
“As if you’re not making sarcasm an art form?”
“Did I sound disapproving? But that just proves you have a lot more potential for disaster than your husband would, and that’s not actually meant as an insult.”
“It’s true, too. You know, we were both in military positions before being moved into the diplomatic mission. What are the chances that anything we did that might be considered an, ah, impropriety will be brushed aside as part of our military duty, let alone part of our time in covert and clandestine ops?”
Vance shrugged. “If they’re for you? You’re patriotic heroes protecting the world. If they’re against you, you’re psychopathic killers on the loose and no one’s safe while you’re around.”
Mephistopheles had essentially said the same thing. Couldn’t wait to tell Jeff about my dream. Maybe I’d save it for a time when he was feeling relaxed, just for maximum effect. “I can guess which way Jenkins is going to go, then.”
“Yeah. It’s the same way the Kramers have gone. I don’t know if you ever thought of Marcia as your friend, but she and Zachary both have come out for Cleary-Maurer.”
“I never could stand her, so no loss. And no surprise, either. That’s got to suck for you guys and Nathalie, though. You were all close.”
“Whatever. This is politics—things change all the time. They couldn’t swing with the new world order, so they’re going to fight it. Just know, and be sure Jeff knows, that they’re not your friends.”
“I’m sure Jeff knows already.” Barring Kramer wearing an emotional overlay or blocker, always a possibility, Jeff would have picked up the animosity ages ago. The Kramers not becoming cronies wasn’t a surprise. That we were friends with anyone from my Washington Wife class at all was the shocker. “So, I guess no help with Jenkins from that side, though. Any other political way to affect him?”
“Not really, no. He has everyone running scared. I’d normally suggest bribery, but I’ve got to figure that your enemies have more money than you and have offered him as much as he wants to get you, so that option’s out.”
“So’s killing him, right?”
“Only because it’s now going to be known that he’s after you, and if he dies right after trying to speak to you I think it’ll be suspicious.”
“I was kind of joking. You’d be okay with us killing him?”
He shrugged again. “He’s not my friend. He’s trying to hurt people I consider my friends. However, it’s not an option, so the moral quandary is over. No, what we need to have is a plan of attack to circumvent him, give him just enough right information that we can make him believe the wrong information, and figure out how to keep him more distracted by you than you are by him.”
“Piece of cake. If only we had cake.” Now I wanted cake. Fought back the overwhelming desire to ask the King of the Elves for a cupcake or two.
Vance shook his head. “You don’t have to come up with this. You have people for that. I’ll handle it, with Pierre and Raj. They both run interference for you already. I’ll go over the game plan with them and we’ll get you set up—before Jenkins catches you.”
“Really? You’d do that for me?”
Vance gave me a funny look. “Yeah. You’re my friend. Wouldn’t you help your friend out?”
“Yeah, I would, and I do. I just . . .” Reached over and took his hand. “I just don’t take it for granted. Thank you.”
He squeezed my hand. “I know we haven’t been friends as long as you have been with a lot of these other people. But you made sure that all the mess created by Lydia Montgomery didn’t blow back on Guy. Even if we hadn’t been friends before then, we’d have been your lifelong friends afterward.”
“Good to know.”
He grinned. “I know you don’t like Lillian all that much, but she respects you, and she wants to stay on your good side. Not sure how much help she can be, but I’d be willing to bet she’ll help as much as she’s able to.”
“She lobbies for some of our biggest enemies.”
“There’s lobbying and then there’s being in someone’s pocket. She knows Titan’s against you guys. You’ve proved which side is the one more likely to win in a fight—she’ll drop Titan before she drops American Centaurion.”
This was news. Hopefully good news, too, but wasn’t sure if I should count on it. However, it reminded me of my conversation with White from what seemed like days but was really only a couple of hours ago. “Hey, who’s Guy and Lillian’s Dealer of Death counterpart for alcohol?”
“Why?”
“We’ve never met him or her.”
“Well, based on what I think you mean, if you’re looking for the full group that you’d call the Dealers of Death, you need to include the people who cover the fast food, hazardous waste, oil drilling, and firearms lobbies, not just tobacco, alcohol, and weapons manufacturing. To have the full set and be able to call Death Dealer Bingo.”
“Touchy much? And you forgot Big Pharma, but we already know they hate us.”
“Bingo.”
“Hilarious. Okay, who are they, all of them? Because none of them have ever approached us. Guy and Lillian did, but not these others. And it would seem like they’d all hang together.”
“I’ll be offended later, because it’s not like it’s the first time any of you have insulted my husband and friends and what they do for a living.”
“Dude, seriously, if you can look me in the eyes and, without breaking eye contact or laughing, and also with all sincerity, tell me that smoking doesn’t cause every damn disease we think it does, I’ll apologize.”
He snorted. “Right. Anyway, I assume you have some reason, other than idle curiosity at an inopportune time, for why you want to know?”
“Yeah, I do. First off, it seems weird—Lillian approaching us right away, with all of our potentially destructive alien technology, makes sense. But Guy doing it doesn’t. At first I thought we’d never met whoever handles alcohol because we don’t drink. But we don’t really smoke, either, and Guy doesn’t seem to care at all. So if we’re somehow so influential that the head mouthpiece for Big Tobacco wants to be our friend, why doesn’t the head of Big Booze feel the same way? Or the rest of the ones you named?”
“Okay, what’s second off?”
“Why aren’t you guys friends with these other Dealers of Death? You’re pals with Lillian, and other influential people. Why are these who it would seem you’d have a lot of affinity with not in your circle? Lillian and Guy are tight, that much is obvious. But I’ve never heard Lillian mention the firearms person, and Guy hasn’t mentioned the alcohol lobbyist, not even in passing.”
“What else?”
“Gideon Cleary’s family is part of Big Booze. But we weren’t enemies of his before this campaign started, at least not that we knew of. And, regardless of their relationship or lack thereof with Lillian and Guy, where are the firearms people? We use guns, all the time. We must buy them from someone. And yet whoever runs that lobby has never dropped by to shoot the breeze, let alone try to influence us. Why hasn’t the Big Pharma lobbyist come by to see if he or she can work the magic and make us part of their team? I can understand the fast food, oil drilling, and hazardous waste people giving us a pass . . . right up until I think about your husband, and then I’m right back to the question of either why Guy wants our favor or these others don’t.”
“Anything else?”
“Probably. My husband was essentially appointed by the f
reaking President. That alone would make him seem special, even if they didn’t know he was an alien. But they do, and everyone else does, too. And even after we were exposed and Jeff was made a Representative, none of these people have approached us. And before you ask, Jeff tells me about all the lobbyists who talk to him, because it’s assumed they’re going to try whatever with him, then head for me as the presumed weak link, to see if they can get in that way.”
“I have a simple answer for why we don’t hang with Simon Hopkins, who’s the head of the Alcohol lobby. It’s probably the same reason he doesn’t try to make inroads with all of you, either. He’s a huge homophobe.”
“Last time I checked, GLBT folks drank just like straight folks.”
“They do, and Simon would never admit this out loud. But, you know, when you’re gay, you’re able to spot when someone hates you merely for being gay. Simon was friendly with your former Diplomatic Corps, because none of them were gay and your religious leader at the time was straight. The moment those people left and Paul took over as Pontifex, Simon was done with all of you.”
“Wow, well, I wasn’t asking about this to send invitations to dinner.”
“Yeah, I know. Lillian had the choice to remain friendly with him, by the way—Guy and I would never ask her to compromise her work for us. She chose us and she and Abner never do anything with Simon or his wife.”
I was having to radically alter my opinion of Lillian Culver, and I wasn’t enjoying having to do so. However, I’d clearly sold her very short, because I’d have never expected her to choose loyalty and what was morally right over getting ahead in any way.
Vance smirked. “Yeah, she had to change how she thought about you, too. Don’t worry, it’s all part of the wonder that is D.C. You’ll get used to it.”
“In about a million years. What about the others?”
“You know, I’m kind of with you, it doesn’t make any sense for why they haven’t approached you. But, as for who they are, Niles Berkowitz is the head lobbyist for Big Oil, Talia Lee is who covers Firearms, oh and she’s tight with Janelle Gardiner from Gaultier Enterprises.”
“That so figures, and might explain why she hasn’t approached us. Who else?”
“Myron Van Dyke is your Big Pharma guy, and he’s tight with Quinton Cross.”
“Gaultier’s all set up, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, they are. I’m sure that’s why Amy hasn’t won her fight. Thomas Kendrick from Titan is Lillian’s client, of course, but he’s so new, he hasn’t made a lot of relationship connections like the others have. His connections are still more military in nature. Lux Carr is Hazardous Waste and Kingsley Teague is Fast Food.”
“Lux? Kingsley?”
He shrugged. “I don’t question other people’s names. Lux seems to like her name, and Kingsley makes a lot of jokes about his that tell me he not only likes it, but he thinks he should be called King Kingsley.”
“Fantastic.”
“It gets better, and I know you’ll appreciate this one, they’re both tight with Amos Tobin.”
“Well, he ran a variety of fast food franchises before he took over YatesCorp, didn’t he? And God alone knows what all YatesCorp is into, but I know it’s more than we even know about. So I guess those love connections make sense. That’s Dealer of Death Bingo for me, then, right?”
“Right, based on what you were talking about, at any rate.”
“Poor Ansom Somerall doesn’t have a buddy? That seems wrong.”
“He does, it’s Berkowitz, sorry, forgot to mention it.”
“So figures.”
“All of them know each other, of course, and I wouldn’t say any of them are enemies, though not all of them are friends with all the others. Speaking of Ansom, by the way, I think you also should consider—”
William’s voice came over the intercom. “Excuse me, Ambassador.” It was still weird hearing him instead of Gladys, especially because William was unfailingly polite and Gladys had never felt the need to bother. Shoved the pang down. Gladys would be the first one to tell me to pull up my Big Girl Panties and handle the business of protecting her people.
“What’s up, William?”
“You’re needed in conference. Immediately.”
CHAPTER 31
RESISTED THE URGE TO CURSE or sigh. “Super, we’ll be right up. Or over, depending on where we’re meeting.”
“Fifteenth floor conference room, Ambassador. Only you were requested.”
“Gotcha. Over it is.” The com went off and I looked at Vance. “Well, I guess you and I have sort of formed a plan for one of the many problems. You want to go find Pierre and Raj and get that rolling?”
“I’m going with you to this meeting. They can tell me to leave, but I’m not going to wander off just because I’m considered useless.”
“You’re not useless, so, yeah, come along. Besides, for all we know, Pierre and Raj are there, too.”
“By the way, why have you been playing that one song over and over?”
“I have been?” Listened. Sure enough, Foster the People was still on, but instead of the album playing, only “Pumped Up Kicks” was on our personal airwaves. Figured this was some kind of a clue from Algar. Filed it away to pay attention to later.
“Yeah. Nonstop.”
“Whatever. It’s a good song.” Grabbed my iPod out of the dock and dropped it back into my purse. Looked at the animals. “We’ll continue our discussion later. For now, um, those of you who need to stay here, stay here. Everyone else, go back to your assigned person or people or come along with Kitty.”
Bruno, Harlie, Poofikins, and Prince and his K-9 crew all came with us. Happily, Bellie stayed in the Lair. Wondered about my new definition of “happy.” Didn’t care for it all that much.
“So, you lived in those rooms?” Vance asked as we left the Lair. Noted he had an unattached Poof on his shoulder. Well, it probably had been unattached at one time. Now? Now I’d ask what Vance had named it later. But at least that meant that Vance and Guy were truly our allies. So, another one for the win column, go us. Poof Power, and all that.
“Yeah. I liked it, too.”
“Right by jail cells?” We were passing the containment area. “You enjoyed living next to your people’s version of County Lockup?”
“They aren’t used a lot. Besides, the other housing here is kind of . . .”
“Awesome. Like a luxury hotel. I can see why that would get dull.” Vance’s sarcasm knob was back at eleven.
“The automatic alarms every morning suck. You literally have to have every person’s feet on the floor and not be sitting down on the bed for them to turn off.” And the soundproofing was far better in the Lair, possibly because we were several floors away from the others sleeping. Not that this was any of Vance’s business, Poof on his shoulder or not. “Besides, how do you know about the rooms on the transient floors?”
“We’re all staying here at least overnight, per everyone, just to be safe. The Alphabet Agency Bigwigs you hang with and are related to are worried about all of your allies’ safety, and I can’t blame them.”
Vance and I and our animal honor guard finally reached the giant conference room and joined what appeared to be pretty much everyone. We were missing the Mossad and Israeli and Bahraini embassy personnel we didn’t know well, and, thankfully, the kids and those on Daycare Duty, but otherwise pretty much everyone else was in attendance, including the Mossad, Israeli, and Bahraini folks we did know well. Heck, even Mrs. Maurer was in attendance.
“Good of you to join us, Missus Chief,” Buchanan said quietly. He and Siler were both leaning against the wall just inside the door. Siler was again cuffed to Buchanan for whatever reason.
“I like to make an entrance.”
They both chuckled as Vance went one way and I went the other, toward Jeff and Christopher. The room was normally set up in a round, but today we had the Corporate America Classroom setup, with U-shaped lines of long tables and chairs curve
d toward the far end of the room. Alpha and Airborne were in the front, with Jeff and Christopher in back for whatever reason.
“You really need to go everywhere with an entourage, don’t you?” Christopher asked as I settled into the available chair between him and Jeff, animals settling in behind me.
“Blah, blah, blah. As if Toby’s not in your pocket right now?” Did a fast headcount. In addition to everyone I’d expected, Gadoire was in the room. Vance sat between him and Culver.
“Whatever,” Christopher muttered.
“What were you up to?” Jeff asked, somewhat suspiciously.
“Vance and I were having wild sex with all the animals. It’s our new thing.”
Jeff laughed. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop. I wasn’t actually trying to be jealous.”
Patted his hand. “No, you’re just good enough at it to do it on autopilot. So, what’s our newest damage?” Had to figure something more was going on than just a meeting, or else they wouldn’t have had William call me in.
“More bombings. Still no one taking anything more than minor damage. Still unlikely that’s going to last.”
There was a giant TV monitor in the room that we were set up to be looking at—similar to the ones in Field and Imageering Main in the Bat Cave—and we were being treated to a variety of screen-within-screen shots. Figured we were here instead of Main because of how many people we had with us. A whole heck of a lot about covered it.
Serene and Horn were on one screen, Cliff was on another, and other images were on the other screens, mostly of bombings and protests. The screens were set up for video conferencing, so everyone on the other sides could see all of us in the room. This looked and felt like a War Room meeting.
Said meeting was in full swing and no one seemed likely to interrupt in order catch me up. No worries, I had a decent grasp of what was going on. And most of what was going on right now was recap.
Got bored fast, since I’d personally lived most of what was being recapped, so took in the room some more. Was pretty sure that no one on the other side of the screens could see where Buchanan and Siler were standing. Wondered why Buchanan had them in this position, but filed it away to ask about later. Went back to the screens.
