Camp Alien

by Gini Koch

  It wasn’t the room we’d actually be living in—we’d had our things put into a guest room this morning, because we didn’t want to rush Elaine out. But it gave me someplace to go.

  Fortunately, Serene knew where the room was. I wasn’t comfortable finding my way around here yet, and since I wasn’t going to be living in this room for the next years, I hadn’t worried about memorizing its location.

  We got inside and headed into my closet. “Okay, what’s going on?” I asked her quietly while I stripped off my totally wrecked FLOTUS clothes and put my iPod and earbuds carefully back into my purse.

  “I heard from Lorraine and Claudia. And they texted me, not Tim or James, because they want us, you and me, to join them.” Serene showed me her phone. There was a picture of what I presumed was Marion Villanova’s apartment.

  The apartment was, to put it nicely, completely trashed.

  “This looks like a job for the police,” I said. “Not us.”

  “Lorraine and Claudia insist that they feel something’s wrong and want us there,” Serene said. Stared at the pictures as Serene scrolled through. Every room in Villanova’s apartment was ransacked. And yet, the girls were right—something looked wrong.

  “It’s too staged,” I said finally. “That’s what’s bothering the girls, I think. But it also means we’ll be going to an active crime scene, and the girls are already at one.”

  Serene chuckled and texted something. Another picture appeared. Two sets of hands in plastic gloves. “I instituted a policy that all Field agents must carry evidence gloves with them over a year ago,” Serene said. “I have enough with me to cover us, as well.”

  “You rock. Think we can do it fast? They’re only going to give me so much time before someone comes asking why it’s taking me so long to get back downstairs.”

  “I just sent James a message saying that I’m having you shower, possibly even take a bath, to calm you down and all that. That gives us a little more time. Hyperspeed will handle the rest.”

  “Even getting out of our carefully guarded doors?”

  She grinned. “I understand there are tunnels and lots and lots of secret ways in and out. We don’t actually have to hit a tunnel—we’re just going to use the deliveries entrance.”

  Contemplated what to wear. Comfort and the realistic thought that I’d be far less easily spotted if I wasn’t dressed as the First Lady won the day. Dressed at hyperspeed. Back to normal—jeans, Converse, and a t-shirt—in a couple of seconds, with no clothing accidents. One definitely for the win column.

  To help with anonymity, I didn’t choose a band shirt, even though not rolling with Aerosmith on my chest seemed like a bad omen. There was a plain black t-shirt in the closet, and I chose that.

  Whether this was something that I’d brought over with me was a mystery. At the Embassy and all other A-C facilities, the Operations Team, aka the Elves, handled all things like this. Of course, I and a miniscule select few knew that there was no “team” or elves plural. There was one being—a Black Hole Universe being on the run for crimes against protecting the younger races, with the biggest hard-on for Free Will ever.

  Whether or not Algar was going to take over the housekeeping and dry cleaning duties for the White House was unclear, and I hadn’t had a lot of time to ask him. And now was definitely not the time, since Serene wasn’t in Algar’s Tiny Inner Circle.

  Made sure I had all I could possibly need in my purse, my Glock and several clips included, then put my purse over my neck and I was ready to go.

  Serene grabbed my hand and we took off, zipping through the White House, down stairs, past a lot of humans, but no A-Cs. We had to do some backtracking and avoidance to be sure that we weren’t seen by an A-C, since they could see us at hyperspeed. But we managed it, and were outside and off the White House grounds in less than a minute.

  Hyperspeed being what it was, it took us only a few seconds to reach Georgetown and the building where Villanova lived. Serene steered us into an alleyway near it, though, where we were hidden. “I want to let them know to open the door for us so we aren’t seen,” she said.

  Took a cautious look around while she did so. Didn’t see anything out of the ordinary for the area. Due to the university, Georgetown had a high student population, but it also had its share of young professionals and D.C. movers and shakers. I tried to spot anything amiss, but everything looked as it should.

  “Ready.” Serene and I put on our plastic evidence gloves, and she grabbed me again. We zipped into the building and up the stairs, to where the next of the day’s strange events awaited.

  CHAPTER 14

  THE GIRLS WERE WAITING FOR US, so we got inside Villanova’s apartment without having to stop.

  “Interesting fact number one,” Lorraine said without preamble, “is that this is the same building that Langston Whitmore lives in.”

  “He’s not here,” Claudia said. “He’s still in the hospital, recovering. We checked his apartment, though, and nothing’s disturbed from when we were there a few days ago.”

  “Okay.” Looked around and stepped through the mess carefully while Serene gave Lorraine and Claudia the recap of what had happened while they were here. She did it at hyperspeed, meaning I pulled out my phone and earbuds and put music on immediately. Hyperspeed speech made most humans physically ill to hear, and I didn’t need to leave DNA evidence here.

  Hit random play and, with the sounds of Miss Li’s “Come Over to My Place” protecting me from nausea and my phone in my back pocket, I examined the place.

  It was a small apartment, all things considered. You entered into the living room with a small dining room to your right that connected to the kitchen, which connected to another room that looked to be Villanova’s home office. That room and the living room connected to a small hall, where one found the guest bathroom and the quite spacious bedroom, which had its own full bathroom attached.

  Everything that could be on the floor appeared to be. And yet, I could step through it fairly well, without stepping onto anything. There was a path, and it was easy enough to spot.

  “What’s wrong with this scene?” I asked as Serene finished and I lowered my volume so I could hear them talking clearly. I’d gotten the A-C enhanced hearing, too, and because I wanted music at any and all times, I’d ensured that I could listen to it and hear the sounds of approaching danger at the same time. “Aside from the ransacked version of the yellow brick road?” Fittingly, Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” came on my personal airwaves.

  “It’s staged,” Claudia replied. “I’m sure you could see that when you looked at the pictures we sent over.” Serene and I both nodded.

  “Nothing’s broken,” Lorraine said. “That’s what’s bothering you. In addition to the path, I mean. This was carefully done.”

  “Huh. So, that begs the very obvious question of why did someone bother?”

  “Why do you think?” Serene asked. “And I mean you, Kitty. As in, what’s your gut reaction?”

  My Megalomaniac Girl cape was already on. Took the leap. “I think Villanova did this herself. That’s why nothing’s broken and why there’s an easy enough path to follow. She didn’t want to trash her stuff and she didn’t want to step on any of it, either, presumably to ensure she didn’t leave a footprint somehow.”

  “I agree,” Serene said. “So the next question is, why did she do this?”

  “She’s either running to Cliff or she’s running away,” Lorraine suggested.

  “Or she’s running to someone else,” Claudia said. “There are plenty of options.”

  “And not just Drax or Kendrick,” Lorraine said. “We checked with the agents who picked Kendrick up, by the way, and there was no sign of Villanova at Titan.”

  “Okay,” I said as I worked my way through the apartment, “Illegal Search” by LL Cool J providing accurate background
tunes. “So, running to Cliff seems like an easy choice.” Went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It wasn’t empty but it wasn’t full, either. Jeff was an old TV shows junkie, and I liked mystery shows a lot. There was milk and I looked at the expiration date. “Or not.”

  “What have you found?” Claudia asked.

  Opened the milk to be sure and slammed the top right back on as fast as I could. Hyperspeed for the win. “This milk is two weeks out of code and smells it.” Dug through the rest of the fridge. Much food was rotting or out of code.

  Checked out the freezer. It was empty other than four filled ice cube trays.

  “So, she took off well before Operation Epidemic started. Meaning we have to ask ourselves why. And we also have to ask if she was involved in what Monica Strauss was planning, as in, is she part of Utilize the Kitty-Bot?”

  “No idea,” Lorraine said. “There are no computers or notebooks with information around. There’s no incriminating evidence at all, other than this mess.”

  “Though I’d bet on yes,” Claudia said.

  Closed the freezer and looked around as my music changed to “Mary Jane’s Last Dance” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. “Why trash her apartment? She must be expecting the police to drop by. But why?”

  “Because she’s disappeared?” Serene asked.

  There was a paper shredder in the office that connected to the kitchen. Went to that and opened it up. Lots of shredded things were in it. “Hold that thought. Need a trash bag.”

  One was found and produced and we emptied the shredder’s contents into it. Handed that to Lorraine. “Enjoy the puzzle.”

  She had her mouth open, probably to provide a witty comeback, when we all heard a noise and froze. It was the sound of the door being unlocked.

  We closed the door that connected the kitchen to the office, but not tightly, so we could see through it. Got it closed just as the outer door opened.

  Fortunately, we were all trained operatives, because the fact that we all didn’t gasp was impressive.

  Christopher stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 15

  CHRISTOPHER LOOKED AROUND. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” We didn’t move. He rolled his eyes. “Kitty, Jeff told me to come over and find out what you all were up to.”

  Opened the door. “Oh. So you’re not an evil bad guy? Crushing news. We were about to really have to question whether we’d gotten the right Mastermind and all that.”

  “Hilarious. Look, your husband is aware of what you’re doing because he knows you. I’m here to ensure that when something goes wrong, you have backup. And before the three of you on Alpha Team try to add words to the glares you’re all shooting at me, there’s no one who can get you guys out of here and to a good alibi faster than me. But it’s nice to see that you’re taking out the trash for the apartment’s resident. That’s thoughtful breaking and entering.”

  “Oh, fine, good point.” While Lifehouse crooned “Wrecking Ball” in the background, brought Christopher quickly up to speed, including why we had the Bag of Shredded Possibly Information, while Serene gave him evidence gloves and he put them on and Claudia wiped down the door and anywhere else he might have touched on this floor.

  Once all that was done, he zipped through the apartment, checking everywhere while “Story of My Life” by Smash Mouth started.

  “Okay, everything’s on the floor,” he said as he rejoined us approximately five seconds later. “No idea why she did that, but there’s nothing in any drawer, cabinet, or closet. It’s all on the floors. I checked under the bed, though, and there’s nothing there but some dust.”

  “Other than the kitchen,” Lorraine said. “It’s kind of trashed, but the only things dumped out and around aren’t breakable.”

  “Yeah, there’s nothing broken anywhere,” Claudia added.

  “Nothing,” Christopher agreed. “So obviously this is staged.”

  “Yeah, as I mentioned already. We’re at the ‘why do this’ part of the festivities.”

  “Why leave the shredder full?” Serene asked. “She dumped everything else.”

  “Who knows?” Christopher shrugged. “But since she clearly had time to throw away whatever was in there, I think it’s unlikely that it’s going to be of interest to us.”

  My brain nudged. Cop shows were very clear on a certain point.

  Went back to the freezer, put the stopper in the sink, and dumped the ice cubes out. Ran warm water over them.

  “What are you doing?” Christopher asked.

  “She could have something hidden in these.”

  “Who hides things in ice cubes?”

  “You need to catch up on pop culture.” Pulled something out of the water. “Fast.”

  The girls took a look. “That looks like a diamond,” Claudia said.

  “It is a diamond.” Searched through the rest of the sink. Found three more diamonds. “So, one diamond per ice cube tray, presumably. Interesting.” Filled the trays back up and put them into the freezer.

  “Why are you doing that?” Christopher asked.

  “Because no one does all this—trash their own place then take off—while leaving diamonds in their ice,” Lorraine said.

  “So Kitty’s making ice so whoever’s supposed to get those diamonds doesn’t think someone else has them,” Claudia added. “Oh, and duh.”

  “Whatever,” Christopher muttered.

  “If I were going on the run, I’d sure as hell take my loose diamonds with me. That she didn’t indicates they’re here as a payment for someone. Either to do something or to not do something.”

  “Assassins?” Claudia suggested.

  “I don’t think so. I mean it’s very possible, but it seems a little . . . complex.” Felt another pang. A week ago I’d have asked Siler or Buchanan to contact the Dingo and Surly Vic and just asked them. But a week ago they’d been alive. Right up until they’d both sacrificed themselves to save me. Their last act of protection.

  Serene put her arm around my shoulders. “We can ask Benjamin about it,” she said gently.

  Leaned my head against hers. “I miss them.”

  “I do, too. I didn’t know them as well as you, but we did . . . interact. Now and then.”

  Presumed this was when the A-C CIA had either crossed into the Dingo’s territory or had needed his help. He’d liked Serene, and I was sure that he’d known what she was up to far longer than I had.

  Swallowed hard and pushed the sorrow away. Now wasn’t the time to mourn. Now was the time to think, and if I could add thinking like the Dingo and Surly Vic to my repertoire, so much the better for me and mine.

  As “Assassin” by John Mayer came on, I gave it a shot. “Could be for an assassin to kill me so I’m not around to say that the Kitty-Bot isn’t really me. But if that’s the case, he or she is late and working really cheap, because these diamonds can’t be worth all that much, and anyway, Villanova has to know that Strauss is dead.”

  “Are you sure those are real diamonds?” Christopher asked.

  “I have an uncle who’s a jeweler. Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Just verifying, no need to be snippy.”

  “I’m not the one who pulled you away from Amy and the baby, stop snarling at me.”

  “Sorry.” His voice was softer. “Jeff wants you back at the White House as fast as possible, you know, Kitty.”

  “I know.” Stared at the diamonds in my hand. “These are nice but . . .”

  “But what?” Serene asked.

  “But they’re not huge and they’re not uncut. I’m wondering if they’re actually from jewelry that Villanova owns herself.”

  Lorraine zipped off and was back quickly. “I found this in the rubble.” She had what looked like an engagement ring without the stone in her palm.

&nbs
p; “That would account for one of the stones, but not the others.”

  “This was the only thing that was missing a stone that I could find.”

  “I could search again,” Claudia offered.

  “No . . . you know, Strauss is dead, but clearly what she was planning isn’t.”

  “We have the, as you call it, Kitty-Bot at Dulce,” Serene said. “That plan was clearly rolling.”

  “Right. So, is her loyal assistant who is definitely not on the side of right continuing the plan on her lonesome? As in, are these other three diamonds from Strauss’ personal collection?”

  “We can only find that by breaking into her home and checking,” Christopher said. “Which I’m sure you’ll have us do shortly, but you cannot be involved in that. You have a couple minutes more here, and then I have to get you back to the White House.”

  “That’s fine. Hang on, though. Don’t talk, not for a second or two.” Had to get all the questions rushing into my mind into a semblance of order. Closed my eyes. It helped somewhat. “Dream On” by Aerosmith helped more. Because I had one overriding issue. “The milk.”

  “Excuse me, what?” Christopher asked. “Sorry to speak out of turn, try to forgive me.”

  “It’ll be hard, but I’ll give it a shot.” I thought better running my yap, after all. “The milk has been out of code for much longer than we’ve known that crap was going down. The empty freezer indicates that Villanova wasn’t planning on being around for a good long while, so she cleared her freezer out. Veggies and such can rot quickly, and everything else in the fridge looked random, as in, bought at one time or another, but none of it being bad or not is an issue—we all have veggies that have gone bad because we forgot about them, and we all have ancient bottles of something or other shoved into the back of the fridge.”

  “Not all of us,” Christopher said.

  “Don’t even try to make me believe you cook, dude. And yeah, yeah, the Elves handle all things for the A-Cs. However, I’m talking humans. Regardless, milk tends to be on the money in terms of when it goes bad. And every shopper checks the expiration date—unless it’s the last quart in the market, no one buys milk that’s going out of code the next day.”