by Gini Koch
CHAPTER 60
“DO WE NEED to send the police or the National Guard or something? Field agents?”
Morgan shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I meant that the announcement has started. It’s on the news.”
“Let’s go,” Mom said. “There’s a TV near enough.”
“I want to go to Jeff.”
“No. Trust me, he’s got protection, and there’s no way you could get from here to there via any conventional means. The last thing you need right now is to show up and give your enemies even more to question.”
Mom had a point. So I didn’t argue as she led us out of the Blue Room. Vance saw us and followed along. Decided Mom could yell at him, but if he wanted to watch the show with us, fine by me. We went across the corridor, to the left, and into the President’s private dining room. Where the President happened to be. Hoped he wasn’t going to bawl me out, too.
The President had the television on, turned to the channel we wanted. He nodded to us, then turned his attention back to the events going on outside Capitol Hill. Mom noted Vance, rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything as she sat in the chair I figured she’d vacated just a little while earlier. Franklin and Morgan didn’t sit, so Raj, Serene, Vance, and I didn’t either. We clustered near Mom and watched the show.
Our politicians were on the steps as promised, with press clustered around them. So far, pretty standard for these kinds of things.
However, there was what looked like a giant mob curved around the press corps, held back by the police. Half of those in the mob appeared to be holding signs showing Armstrong-Martini circled in red with a line through it. Nice. Of course, there were also those holding Armstrong for President signs and even a few Armstrong-Martini ones without the red circle and stuff on them. The pro-Armstrong-Martini signs were clearly handmade, but the anti ones looked like they’d been printed up. Figured Club 51 had been busy.
Despite the mob, everyone on the steps of the Capitol Building looked fine and unfazed. Senator McMillan was at a microphone, talking, introducing and endorsing both Senator Armstrong and Jeff.
Armstrong definitely had his Senior Senator and the Guy You Want to Lead Your Country look going strong. Jeff wasn’t imitating this look so much as it was how he looked naturally—like the leader you wanted but so rarely got. He had my vote.
McMillan finished, then Armstrong took the mic, listed all the ways American Centaurion and Jeff in particular were awesome, and officially stated that Jeffrey Martini would be his running mate should they get the nomination next week.
Then it was Jeff’s turn at the mic. Hoped he handled his moment in the sun better than I had. Also hoped no one was going to shoot him while he was speaking.
“Hi, thank you, Vince, Don,” Jeff said. He wasn’t using his Commander Voice, but the Cheerful Politician Voice he’d learned over the past year and a half. “I’m honored to be considered worthy to support a man I’m proud to call my friend in a bid to lead this great country. And, as I’ve done all my life, I promise I’ll do the best I can to represent you with honesty and integrity. Thank you.”
Jeff waved and stepped away from the microphone. The press pressed forward. As they did so, the camera feed swung around to give us a good shot of the crowd while McMillan tried to get the press into a semblance of control. Spotted Chuckie, Reader, Tim, the flyboys, the K-9 squad, and a variety of others there, doing crowd and press control and clearly ready to protect and defend.
As the camera swung back toward the politicians it caught an average-looking guy, dressed in an average suit, straight brown hair, probably in his late thirties or early forties. There wasn’t anything remarkable about him, other than that he was press and he looked smug.
“That’s Bruce Jenkins,” Vance said urgently.
“What’s he doing with a microphone?” Mom growled.
“What’s he doing with Jeff? I thought he was after me.”
Naturally for my luck, Jenkins managed to shove forward and get a question in.
“Representative Martini, Bruce Jenkins, Washington Post, here with CNN. Do you have any comment on the fact that your wife just admitted that Centaurion Division was responsible for all the bombings yesterday?”
“Crap.” Remembered where we were and who we were with. “Sorry, Mister President.”
“I’ve heard the word before, Ambassador. Let’s see how you husband handles this.”
Shockingly to me, Jeff didn’t look shocked. He looked cool, calm, and totally in charge. “I believe, Mister Jenkins, that my wife also shared that the reason Centaurion Division detonated those self-contained bombs was to thwart a large-scale coordinated bioterrorism attack. I’m proud that Centaurion Division saved countless lives, Mister Jenkins, with minimum damage, no casualties, and literally no injuries. Isn’t that what leaders are supposed to do—protect the country and its people?”
This clearly wasn’t the answer Jenkins was expecting, because he came through for me and looked shocked in Jeff’s place.
“My God, your husband really is like Superman, isn’t he?” Vance murmured.
“Yes, but drool later.”
More reporters were tossing questions at Jeff, Armstrong, and McMillan. Many of them were about the bombings, and all three men were able to give coherent, cohesive answers. Of course, many of the questions were about other things, like their stance on immigration, the economy, and so forth, but the bombings definitely had center stage. Jenkins got shoved aside by other reporters, so it didn’t look like he was going to get another shot to ask anything else.
“Mom, do we know if any of the press corps have left?”
“No, they’re all here. None were allowed to leave and they’ve all been kept in the East Room. We have an official statement being made on the President’s behalf regarding your announcement.”
So, Jenkins hadn’t been here and just raced over to Capitol Hill, and that meant he hadn’t heard my announcement firsthand. Sure it was probably all over social media by now, but if he was in place to go for Jeff, then he probably wasn’t checking for too many updates. Which meant he had an associate at the White House who’d filled him in. “Not sure if we care, Mom, but Jenkins has an associate here who’s feeding him information.”
“Then he or she is in the room with the press secretary. The press are allowed to report, that’s why we let them in.”
Chose not to argue this, since it was true and, though I still distrusted Jenkins completely, really, the reporters weren’t necessarily doing anything but their jobs. But the question was—how did Jeff know what I’d said and what was going on? Looked at Serene. “Did you give Jeff the heads-up?” She shook her head. Raj shook his as well.
Thought about it. Christopher had been unnaturally cheerful this morning. And not only was he the fastest man alive, A-Cs could talk and hear at hyperspeed. Dug my phone out and sent him a text. My phone rang and I stepped to the far side of the room. “Hi Flash. Enjoying your busy day?”
“You sound so bitter.”
“I am. Seriously, you were over here spying on me?”
“No. I was over there to ensure that, when you went off-script, I’d be able to get the information to Jeff immediately, so he’d be prepared. Which I did. Nice bombshell, by the way. The expressions onstage were priceless.”
“I, and probably the others here, hate you.”
“You’ll get over it. By the way, you avoided this for the moment, but I heard the press talking amongst themselves while waiting for you, and once Missus Maurer showed up on the dais they got really curious. Expect to get questions about her. What’s your answer going to be, by the way, for why she’s with us?”
“She’d learned of the ricin attack and came to us for help.”
“Really? You’d better brief her on that before you use it. And everyone else over there, too. Your mom in particular.”
“Already got bawled out. Somewhat. So, yes, I’ll run that by Mom, and Nancy herself, before I use it. By the way, ar
e you still here or are you there?”
“I’m here, which for you is there. You’re distracting me from lurking in the shadows and watching for snipers, bomb throwers, or tanks, so that I can grab Jeff and the others and get them to safety, you know.”
“Then I’ll blame you if anything happens to any of them.”
“You’d blame me anyway.”
“Speaking of bitter. Hey, Christopher?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for covering us on this one. It mattered. A lot.”
His voice softened. “You’re welcome. Kitty, I realize everyone’s going to jump on you for what you did and how you did it, but honestly, I thought it was great. I’m really proud of you, and Jeff, too, for how you’re handling all of this.”
“Thanks. And, careful or I’m going to get all mushy and emotional.”
“Can’t have that, that’s James’ territory with you.”
“And Amy’s territory with you.”
“True enough. And before you ask, she’s with Caroline, Doreen, and Abigail, inside the Capitol Building, just in case.”
“Doesn’t anyone stay home and watch these things on TV anymore?” Glanced at the TV. “Looks like things are breaking up.”
“Yeah. Hang in there, Kitty. We’re at the start of a really strange road.”
“It’ll be a bumpy ride, but I’m sure we’ll get there.”
“I think the question is—do we want to get there? Reynolds just gave me the signal to help with crowd control. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Be careful.”
“You, too.”
“Always.”
“Never that any of us have ever seen.”
“I know you are but what am I?”
Christopher laughed. “You’re the wife of the likely vice presidential nominee.”
“Oh good. Totally not routine.”
CHAPTER 61
HUNG UP AND REJOINED the others by the TV. “That went remarkably well.”
Mom nodded slowly. “I’m amazed, frankly. Maybe the obvious show of force helped. However, there will be ample opportunities for mayhem beyond this morning, and just because Bruce Jenkins was shut up once doesn’t mean he won’t ask a question you don’t have a good answer for next time.”
“Speaking of which, Christopher mentioned that we dodged the Nancy Maurer bullet this morning, but he doesn’t expect that to last long.”
“Do you want me to fetch her?” Raj asked politely.
The President nodded. “She’s been through an ordeal, I’d like to see her.”
“Yes, sir.” Raj zipped off.
“I heard your plan for what to say,” Mom said. “I’m not sure if it’s a good idea, involving her in the bombing plot.”
“Mom, she was attacked by thugs her own son sent to ‘protect’ her, but we didn’t catch the guys so it’s her and our word against theirs. She has to have a reason to be with us that doesn’t cause even more suspicion. The ricin story is out, it seems the easiest answer to me.”
“I agree,” Mrs. Maurer said as Raj ushered her in. “So nice to see you, Mister President, albeit under unfortunate circumstances.”
The President stood up, hugged Mrs. Maurer, and gave her his seat. “Angela tells me you’re breaking ties with your son. I’m sorry you’ve been put into a situation where you feel the need to do so to protect yourself.”
Mrs. Maurer nodded. “As I’ve been saying, he’s not my son anymore. I don’t recognize the man he’s become.”
The President looked at me. I mouthed the word “android.” Then I did a little of The Robot dance move to be sure he got it.
His lips quirked, but he just nodded and looked back to Mrs. Maurer. “I feel confident that our friends at American Centaurion will protect you. However, are you sure you’re willing to become what will surely be a focal point of the presidential campaign? I feel confident Senator Armstrong and Representative Martini will get the party’s nomination, and you switching sides to join them will make the media’s day, even more than the Ambassador’s announcement did.”
“I’m sure. I worry about the safety of my grandchildren, but I can’t protect them if I’m dead or a hostage.”
A staffer came in. “I’m sorry, Mister President, but you’re due for a meeting in the Oval Office.”
“I’ll be right there. Fair enough, Nancy. Angela, I’ll leave this to you and the Ambassador and her team.” He nodded to us. “Ladies, gentlemen, please continue the good work you do and let’s hope that the good guys win.” With that he strode off with the staffer chattering to him about his meeting.
“I like him.”
“I do, too,” Mom said. “I’ve enjoyed this job.”
“He’s not the only president you’ve supported.”
“No, he’s not. But he’ll be the last if Vincent and Jeff don’t win the election.”
This hit me like a bolt out of the blue. Why I hadn’t considered that my mother’s job would be in jeopardy if an anti-alien team was in the White House was beyond me, but I hadn’t. The ramifications of Cleary-Maurer were larger than I’d paid attention to. The likelihood that we’d lose every ranking individual who supported American Centaurion was high. Chuckie, Horn, and Cliff would likely be out of their jobs before they could blink. Same with Kevin, Buchanan, and the rest of the P.T.C.U. Len and Kyle would be out of the C.I.A. along with Chuckie, and Colonel Franklin and Captain Morgan would probably be sent to an outpost in Alaska.
Maybe we’d still have people at NASA Base, but Alfred would undoubtedly be removed from his position, and that Base had been infiltrated easily before. That it would flip to completely anti-alien seemed possible.
There were more people who supported us, all of whom would be removed from their positions or marginalized. Our enemies would be moved up into positions of power. And control. Control over Centaurion Division. Which was, still and all, what everyone wanted—the War Division, wrapped up in a nice, tight bow.
The good of the country didn’t figure into this, I knew that without asking. The Cleary-Maurer ticket was pretty much anti everything we stood for and I cared about. It was time to stop complaining about Jeff being on the ticket and start campaigning.
Looked at Raj. “What do we need to do to ensure the nomination and the win?”
He smiled at me. “Glad to have you fully in, Ambassador.”
“Yeah, yeah, some of us catch on a little slower than others.”
“I’ve given it some thought already,” Raj said. “But I believe this isn’t the best place to discuss our strategy.”
Mom nodded. “We need to vacate so the room can be straightened. And around here, someone’s always listening.”
“Is the Embassy safe and cleaned up for us to return?”
Raj nodded. “I believe we’ll need to be seen leaving. This will give the press more chances to talk to you and Missus Maurer. We’ll need the team to provide coverage.”
“Make it so, PR Attaché Number One.”
Raj grinned. “I’m glad I spent so many years watching TV. It’s really paid off for this job.”
We left the dining room and stood in the vestibule while Raj gathered the rest of Team Press Conference. The press corps was still in the East Room, and White House security was blocking them from leaving, for which I was extremely grateful.
“There will be press outside, waiting for us,” Raj said as he herded the last of our flock over. “I want the Ambassador and Missus Maurer next to each other. Ambassador, you’ll be holding Missus Maurer’s hand.”
“It would look better if I had my arm through hers,” Mrs. Maurer said. “That way, it’s clear I’m holding onto her, not the other way around.”
“Squeaky, you amaze and impress me.”
“The rest of us need to flank them,” Raj went on. “We don’t have the usual bodyguards here, so we’re going to have to make do with those we do have. Lillian and Guy, if you two wouldn’t mind going before the Ambassador, I believe you’ll bo
th be the best at warding off the press.”
Culver grinned the Joker’s Passing Out Killer Candy to the Kiddies smile. “Oh, trust me, we’re both pros at that.”
Gadoire nodded. “I suggest Vance be on the Ambassador’s side. He also has experience with this.”
In my experience with Vance, he was most experienced at running away screaming, but Raj was right—the guys who’d normally handle this were all MIA, so we had to roll with the punches.
“Raj should take Nancy’s free side,” Vance said. “Same reasons and he’s stronger than me, if shoving is necessary. And, trust me, it’ll be necessary.”
“Actually,” White said, “I think it would be better if I was with Missus Maurer, Raj was with the Ambassador, and you were with our Head of Imageering, Vance. She’ll be asked questions as well and will need the protection, so to speak.”
Vance nodded eagerly. He and Gadoire were married but both bi, and Vance’s fondest fantasies now involved adding an A-C woman, or man, into their mix. Couldn’t blame him, really. “That makes sense.”
“Mom, what about you?”
She shook her head. “I need to stay here. I’m due in that meeting the President’s having in about ten minutes.”
Mom took me aside and hugged me, the usual breath-stopping bear hug. “You’ll do fine, kitten. Just remember, silence is your friend in these instances. If you look like the press is attacking you, that can, many times, sway popular opinion toward you.”
Hugged her back. “Gotcha. Air . . . air . . .”
She let go and kissed my cheek. “Remember that you’re doing this for more than just yourself and your immediate family. The course of our country is going to be determined by this election.”
“But no pressure! I’ll do my best, Mom.”
She gave me a rather proud smile. “That’s all anyone can ask of you, kitten. And your best has been proven to be what we need. So, go get ’em, my little tiger.”
CHAPTER 62
WE WERE IN OUR FORMATION, three lines of four people, the extra troubadours with Culver and Gadoire in front and Vance and Serene in the rear.
