by Gini Koch
“I was on the track team, but yeah, I kind of think Abner’s right. Everyone else looks great. This is lovely for being inside, but for going out I think it’s too casual.”
“We’ll get the car while you change,” Len said.
“I don’t think you get the Beast,” Kyle added, referring to the Official Limo of the President. “But we’ll also do you a favor and let your Secret Service unit know that you’re planning to leave the White House.”
“Like you need to remember to do every time,” Len said.
“When did you guys trade sides on me?”
Len winked. “Every time we’re being good, is what I meant.”
“Oh. So not often.”
“Right. Or, as we call it, routine.” Len and Kyle trotted of and I trotted across the hall.
Went into the dressing room and looked over my options. I had a lot of them. Many suits, many variations of the Armani Fatigues. Many pairs of jeans and concert t-shirts and such that I couldn’t wear today.
Chose to mix it up. Put on a black slim skirt but chose a blue blouse. Sure, this was a little reminiscent of what I was wearing during the National Convention when all hell had broken loose. But it was also nice and, at the same time, unremarkable.
Put my hair up in a big banana clip, so I once again looked like I’d put time into the ’do, and made sure that the special goggles were in my purse along with my Glock and several clips, my phone, iPod, speakers, and hairspray. Never knew when a superbeing would show up, after all. Sure, we hadn’t had one for a few years now, but that just meant we needed to remain vigilant.
Checked in on the kids before I left the area. To find that my kids were not here.
CHAPTER 47
LIZZIE WAS AROUND in her room, lying on her bed reading. But Nadine, Jamie, and Charlie were nowhere to be seen. “Um, where’s everyone?”
Lizzie shot me a look that said she feared I was getting too old for this stuff. “They’re at daycare. Nadine took them over late because you and Jeff were sleeping in. They have six Secret Service agents with them, too. Nadine’s staying to help Denise. That’s basically her job, after all. The agents are staying to guard because that’s their job.”
“Thanks for the refresher course. And you’re here because?”
“Because I’m totes too old for daycare.” It was official—Lizzie felt I was far too old for this stuff. “And school doesn’t start for a month or something.”
“Huh. Has anyone told you about the gates and how to work them?”
“Everyone. The red dab of paint low and sort of behind a toilet indicates a gate. All gates other than those in the White House complex are set for the Dome. All gates in the White House complex are set for the Embassy. Only A-Cs can calibrate the gates because only A-Cs can see through the cloaking. In an emergency, run through one. Don’t go through otherwise because the gates are all monitored and they aren’t playthings and severe punishments exist for any child who is stupid enough to use them incorrectly.” She sounded totally bored as she recited this litany. “Denise says all the kids learn this from Day One. I think Charlie’s already clear on it, so why you think I’m not is totes beyond me.”
I hadn’t learned all of this for years. Lizzie was with us under two weeks and she had it down already. Actively chose not to be bitter. And resolved to give her the Briefing Books of Boredom so she could get all caught up. Sure, that was likely to be viewed as a punishment, but that’s what happened when you were a mouthy teenager.
“Super. Guess what? We’re going out to lunch. Grab whatever and meet me in the hall.” I wasn’t as old as Lizzie thought, and I knew better than to leave a teenager alone in a place like this. I knew what I’d have done, and it was safer to assume that Lizzie would also try to get into every room she shouldn’t and plan accordingly than to be too trusting and have an “incident.”
“I don’t need to prep.” She heaved a sigh, but dragged off the bed and grabbed her messenger bag. I approved. Of the bag, not the attitude.
“Some kids would be excited to go out to lunch with the First Lady and all that.”
“And some kids were reading a really great book the First Lady’s dragged them away from.”
“Oh, my God, pardon the hell out of me. Bring the book along, I won’t be offended that you want to read instead of help, add in, or join a conversation.” Definitely was going to give her the Briefing Books of Boredom, and soon. Maybe as soon as we were back from lunch.
She rolled her eyes, but grabbed her book anyway. Caught the title. Lizzie was engrossed in Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. Interesting choice. Decided not to mention it. Right now.
We met up with the others in the hallway and headed down to meet the boys. Evalyne and Phoebe were waiting for us. “Thanks for actually letting us know what you’re doing,” Evalyne said, sarcasm knob only at about seven on the scale.
“Lunchtime. Are you guys able to eat?”
“No,” Phoebe said. “We’re on guard, if you’d care to remember. But we ate already, so your timing is good.”
“Go me. By the way, I have no idea how you guys plan on rolling but I don’t think we want to clear out the Teetotaler just for me.”
“Noted,” Evalyne said. “We’ll see.” She spoke into her lapel. “Cyclone and Entourage are leaving the Crown. Heading down to the Carpet, then off to the Golf Course. Note that Cutie-Pie and Challenger are in the Playroom, but Comet is going with Cyclone. Cosmos is in the Castle.”
“Wow, the Teetotaler gets a nickname? Rosemary and Douglas will be thrilled. What’s the Playroom, the Embassy?”
“Obviously,” Lizzie muttered. Apparently she was in a mood. Or else was just testing to be sure she could be herself around her new full-time adult guardians. Gave it even odds for both.
Evalyne didn’t grace this with a reply. Instead she headed us for the underground parking garage. There was a whole world under this complex that almost rivaled a typical A-C structure. Almost. But even the White House complex didn’t go down fifteen stories like Dulce. A-Cs were number one with a bullet when it came to burrowing.
With Lizzie there were nine of us, plus my Secret Service team of six. Meaning we needed to take two limos. Because Len and Kyle were approved at the highest levels, they could still be my driver and shotgun, which I insisted on.
The President had some impressive limos. However, we’d also incorporated A-C limos into the motor pool, because, frankly, the idea of not having a laser shield was one I was no longer comfortable with, and that went double for Jeff. The invisibility shield was also a nice touch, though we almost never used that. My brain nudged. Something about this bore more thought, but Phoebe was assigning who was sitting where, and I lost whatever it was.
Evalyne insisted that at least one Secret Service agent had to be in my limo. Put my foot down and insisted that the Secret Service car had to have an A-C in it, just in case. Since she didn’t need to brief me on a speech, Colette offered to go with the Secret Service limo. Agreed, but felt underrepresented in the Speedy Getaway Department. Sent a text to Manfred, the head of my A-C security detail, asking him to join us, which he did.
So Evalyne in my car with the rest of my team, Colette and Manfred in the other with the majority of the Secret Service, we finally headed out in two limos packed to the gills with people. Thanked God that I’d had all those donuts or I’d have been fainting from hunger by now. On the plus side, we’d absolutely missed the lunch rush.
The trip to the Teetotaler was uneventful. Lizzie took the time to keep on reading.
“No Club Fifty-One protestors out,” I mentioned.
“They’re still confused as to whether they’re now on your side or not,” Vance said.
“I’ll take whatever reprieve we can get.”
We pulled up in front of the restaurant and the real dog and pony show started. Manfred and two of my male
Secret Service agents went in and secured the restaurant. Phoebe and the other agent in that limo who wasn’t driving got out. He came to relieve Len, who got out along with Kyle. They joined Phoebe at the curb, waiting to escort the rest of us inside.
Two of those who’d gone inside came out now and stood outside the doorway. This was Evalyne’s cue. She got out and indicated that Abner was up first. He got out, and Kyle took him and hustled him inside.
As this was going on, Evalyne had Mrs. Maurer get out. Len helped her and took her in as Kyle came back to the car. He took Vance now, as Len came back. He took Lizzie and hustled her inside. Kyle waited at the car.
Looked at White. “We could have just linked up and used hyperspeed to get inside without being seen at all.”
“Well, the point of this is to be seen, so that wouldn’t work.” White indicated that I was up, since Len had returned.
Len helped me out, but White came out right after me, and the two of them flanked me, with Kyle on White’s other side, while Phoebe took the lead to the door and Evalyne brought up the rear.
Our Impressive Display of Super Security Measures over, I looked around the Teetotaler. Thankfully, there were some people in here who hadn’t been run off by my security detail, meaning that we hopefully hadn’t ruined anyone’s afternoon. Manfred was stationed at the back door. Evalyne and Phoebe took opposite sides of the room and sat at tables.
True to expectations, the owners, Rosemary and Douglas, looked as if all their dreams had come true. I liked them and gave them both hugs. Introduced them to everyone they might not know. Turned out they knew everyone other than Lizzie, who Rosemary fussed over. Lizzie was sweet and charming to Rosemary. Filed this away for review later.
We had a regular table and it was available, so we were ushered there. Tried not to pay attention to the fact that the people in here were staring at us. That was part of the point of coming out, after all. Made sure to sit with my back to the wall, though, and kept Lizzie next to me. For some reason, all this security made me feel far less secure.
We ordered, then I heaved a sigh and did my best to relax. “So, what do we want to cover?”
“I spoke with the Secretary of State while we were driving,” Colette said. “She wants us to have an inauguration party.”
“Is she high? There is no reason to throw a party. I know for a fact that the Johnson Administration did not party like it was nineteen-ninety-nine after Kennedy was assassinated. I don’t think the Martini Administration should party down after the Armstrong assassination, either.”
“Vince’s death isn’t being called an assassination,” Vance said.
“Well, I’m calling it that, and I know Jeff is, too. Cliff was trying to kill everyone, but he succeeded in killing our President. And a ton of other people, too. This is not a reason to throw confetti and cheer.”
“It’s okay,” Colette said. I could tell she was using her troubadour talent to calm the situation down. “It doesn’t have to be elaborate, but the widow of the late President is the one requesting this.”
“Why? And I mean that seriously, as in I want an answer that makes sense.”
“She wants us to show our enemies that even though we had a tragedy, we can still find joy. Officially. Unofficially, she thinks it will help encourage the peace talks, because if we set up the party to happen after the peace talks, then they do double celebration duty.”
“Ah. She’s being sneaky. Now that I can get behind. But doesn’t it leave us open if the peace talks don’t go well?”
“It does,” Mrs. Maurer said. “But possibly not as badly as it might. The party will have to be sold to the American people, though. You can’t just throw it. Normally inauguration celebrations are huge affairs. This can’t be that, but it can’t be something too small, either.”
“Because that would seem sad and pathetic, yeah. Please tell me this is your job.”
Mrs. Maurer laughed. “It is. Your team will handle it, dear. We’ll consult with you, of course, but all the details will fall to us.”
“If there is any way in the world to get Aerosmith to play, I will do whatever you want.”
“I’d imagine that if the First Lady requested them,” White said, “and they were available, the band might be willing.”
“Make it so.” There was apparently more than one way to keep hope alive.
Our food arrived and we discussed the potential party while we ate. If done right, it could be fun. Lizzie seemed a lot happier with tea and delicious foodstuffs in her, too, so another one for the win column.
“So, should we combine Raj’s Club Fifty-One Thank You Ceremony with this?”
“I’m not sure that we should wait on that,” Colette said.
“Could be a great way to get a triple,” Vance said.
Mrs. Maurer nodded. “That could actually help sell the inauguration party to the populace—it’s really celebrating the human spirit and all those good things.”
“I’m not sure,” Abner said. “I really think we want to think it through.”
“Oh, that’s not our style,” White said with a laugh.
“Traitor. But I agree with Abner—anything we’re doing needs to be thought through.”
“Include the announcement of your Cause,” Kyle said.
“Might be too much,” Len said. “It’s going to be a fine line for what will fly and what will flop.”
“You guys need to solve the problem of how you get all of them to Washington first,” Lizzie said. The table looked at her and she looked defiantly back.
“Lizzie has a good point,” I said, because she did. “We discussed it briefly before, but since this probably falls under my office somehow, we need to figure out a way to bring in those who want to come in that doesn’t break the bank—theirs or ours.”
“Some of them will be coming to protest, too,” Lizzie added.
White nodded. “True enough. We may be able to use our empaths to determine who should or shouldn’t be included.”
“That seems to be a very . . . nonactive role for the Field agents,” Colette said.
“Not if it keeps Club Fifty-One from turning the President’s thank you ceremony into an anti-alien protest,” White said dryly.
Everyone spent the rest of the meal discussing the pros and cons, Lizzie included. I was too busy stuffing my face to add much, since White and Lizzie were representing my concerns quite well. Besides, what I wanted was to ensure that we could get Aerosmith. Probably meant I’d need to save the world again, but that was how it went for us anyway.
During this, people came and went. We got looks, but no one seemed offended or freaked out that we were here. Decided taking everyone out had been the right plan. Maybe we’d do it weekly. I’d done that before, when Naomi was still alive—gone out with some of my Embassy staff regularly. Since she’d died I’d done it much less, probably because, to me, Operation Infiltration had sort of started when we were here at the Teetotaler.
Well, no time like the present to change it up and be retro at the same time. Sent a text.
The reply came quickly. They were available, bored, and on their way. No sooner had I read this than two women came in via the back door—Abigail and Mahin.
Douglas hustled another small table into our mix while Rosemary raced their favorite teas over. The gals sat down while I received long-suffering looks from Evalyne and Phoebe, presumably so they could keep in practice.
Abigail was the youngest Gower, and, like her eldest brother and late older brother and sister, she was gorgeous. Beautiful dark skin, great hair, sparkling eyes, smart as a whip—Dazzler all the way.
Mahin was also a hybrid—but with a Middle Eastern mother and Ronald Yates as her Secret Father. She wasn’t Dazzler stunning, because hybrids took after the human parent externally. But her mother hadn’t been ugly, and while Mahin wasn’t gor
geous she was attractive, with olive skin and long dark hair that was as black as Abigail’s but completely different at the same time.
Mahin had been the person who’d made us aware that not all hybrids were exactly full A-C on the inside, since she only had one heart. Because of this and other discoveries, we’d determined that Ronald Yates was a “sport” in terms of genetics—there was no predictable outcome when he mated. And he’d mated a whole heck of a lot.
As per usual, the gals were in the Female Standard Issue. Mahin looked apologetic for their arrival, but Abigail grinned at everyone’s surprised expressions. “When the First Lady says she’d like you to join her party, you join her party.”
“I just figured that we were going to want to ensure that whatever we came up with was coordinated with the American Centaurion Embassy. So I asked the Cultural Attachés to join us.”
“Nice spin,” Evalyne said, as she came over. “Next time, please run these requests through me so we have some idea of what’s going on.”
“Oh, will do.” Vance was on my other side. “Is there a role we can give Lizzie?” I asked him quietly, while the others quickly filled Abigail and Mahin in on what we’d been discussing. “One that’s official, one that a teenager can do, but one that keeps her officially on my team?”
He nodded. “Youth Ambassador is always a good one.”
“Ambassador of what?”
“Whatever we want. I’ll speak with her about it when we’re back and not in a group meeting.”
We were done eating and having final pots of tea when a slender bleached blonde came in. Mrs. Maurer was next to Lizzie, and I saw her stiffen.
Took a closer look as the woman looked around. “Who is that?” I asked quietly.
“The last person I expected to see here,” Mrs. Maurer said, voice like very squeaky ice. “My daughter-in-law.”
CHAPTER 48
CRYSTAL MAURER made quite the show of “spotting” us. It was an act, and I could tell it was an act easily. Wasn’t sure if that was intentional or if she was just a terrible actress.
