by Gini Koch
Tobin smiled. “Ambassador, you may not realize it, but you make the news regularly. We saw you’d had some . . . unpleasantness earlier, knew you were headed here, so figured it was a good time to come see if we could help each other. You know good guys wear black.” He had a faint Texas twang, and my memory shared that was his home state.
And there it was, right on cue. “Usually we add in some white, just for contrast.”
Tobin chuckled. “I’m sure you do. May we join you for breakfast? My treat.”
Had to give Tobin this much—at least he was trying to put this into a more friendly, normal-person atmosphere. It wasn’t working, but at least he’d given it the old college try.
Of course, we’d already eaten, and the evidence of such was still on the table. So either he wanted us to eat again, he wanted us to watch all of them eat, or he was offering us a really cheap bribe.
On the plus side, or sort of, none of them sounded like the man who’d just called me. That didn’t mean one of them wasn’t the new Club 51 Head Honcho, but it was unlikely. This didn’t mean they didn’t know him, though. When we’d first run into our favorite anti-alien lunatics, Howard Taft had been the man in charge. But he’d been taking his real orders from Leventhal Reid, who’d been a Representative from Florida. Suppressed the shudder thinking of Reid always gave me. I’d seen a lot of evil in my time with Centaurion Division, but no one and nothing, not even Mephistopheles, had matched Reid.
The Land Sharks were looking at me expectantly. We didn’t have a lot of options. We had no car to race off into, we couldn’t use hyperspeed to run away no matter how much we might want to, and we needed to pay our bill one way or the other. Plus, we were officially making a scene in a restaurant we frequented. Yeah, they’d planned this really well.
Decided to go on the offensive. “So, you’re telling me that we were on the news in some way?”
“No,” Somerall said quickly. “We all have sources, Ambassador. Just as you do. Ours told us you’d been attacked by some dissidents. And while you go out on random days, when you do go out, this is where you tend to go.”
Good to know we were predictable. That was the downside of having a favorite restaurant.
“Okay. Well, that sort of begs a question.” They all looked at me with interest. Here went nothing. “Which one of you wants to tell me who the new head of Club Fifty-One is and why he’s decided to start threatening me?”
CHAPTER 5
ALL FIVE OF THE LAND SHARKS looked both surprised and uncomfortable. Kendrick took the lead on this one. “They aren’t a group any of us associate with, Ambassador.”
“Right, pull the other one, it has bells on. How would you know we’d been attacked by Club Fifty-One unless one of them told you they’d done so and we were in motion?”
Kendrick shrugged. “We have other sources.”
“Embassy staff?” Abigail asked.
Expressions said that they wished it was Embassy staff. Hoped their expressions weren’t being faked. “No,” Gardiner replied. “Your staff is extremely loyal. As they should be.”
“True enough. So you were advised by ‘sources’ that we were attacked and you raced on over here to have an impromptu revival meeting. Why?”
Tobin’s lips quirked. “You have an interesting way with words, Ambassador. But we’re here to preach the good word, and that word is ‘protection.’ Mutual protection, to be exact.”
Kendrick nodded. “You have an anti-alien problem. We’d like to help you fix that.”
“In return for what?”
Somerall shot me what I was now certain he felt was his Charming Smile. It really didn’t work on me. At all. “Favors. There are many things that your people could assist us with that would be helpful to all our businesses. And in return, there are many things all of us could do for you in return. It’s what friends do for each other, after all.”
“We’re friends?”
“Of course,” Gardiner replied.
Wondered where in the world my “uncles” were and if it would be totally wrong to drop them a friendly suggestion to come for a visit. With friends like these we didn’t need enemies. “Then why are you trying so hard to block Amy’s bid to take over the business her father built?”
All three from Gaultier reacted the same way—slit eyes and tight smiles. Nice to know I’d hit a hot button, not that it was a surprise.
“A multinational conglomerate isn’t something to be tossed to a child who has no training in running any part of said business,” Gardiner said frostily.
“Amy’s a lawyer and she was raised in that business.”
“Our corporate situation with her has no bearing on what we’re discussing with you,” Cross said. “But who knows? A mutually beneficial relationship between us could only help Amy’s situation.”
Wanted to argue this some more, but Naomi kicked me under the table. Considering Jamie was between us and I didn’t see her move, figured she’d used hyperspeed. Decided to let this particular argument drop.
“Just what kind of ‘protection’ are you offering us?” Naomi asked. “Because as I understand the term, it’s usually used by criminals as a way to extort money.”
The Land Sharks all chuckled. “Someone’s watched too much Sopranos,” Tobin said. It was official—I didn’t like his “folksy charm.”
“No, someone’s aware of the Mob and how it operates,” I said. “It’s a good question you’re trying to sidestep. Unless you actually have influence with Club Fifty-One, or any of the many other anti-alien groups out there, just how do you propose to protect us from anything?”
However, before any of them replied, someone I was happy to see came in.
Cliff Goodman was the Head of Special Immigration Services reporting directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security, meaning he was the guy at Homeland Security who had the most interest in all things Alpha Centaurion. He was also one of the few close friends Chuckie had and, like Chuckie, he was brilliant.
Cliff took in the scene, made eye contact with Naomi, gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and came right over. So now I knew who she’d been texting. I’d give her the big Atta Girls later when we weren’t surrounded by people we didn’t like.
“Excuse me, Ambassador,” Cliff said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed at headquarters. I need to discuss some policy with you that can’t wait.” He flashed a quick smile at the Land Sharks. “So sorry to interrupt. Hopefully you and the Ambassador can reschedule.”
The Land Sharks shot various looks of annoyance in Cliff’s general direction. “I’m sure whatever it is can wait,” Kendrick said.
“Not really,” Cliff said politely. “It’s quite urgent.”
“I’m sure the Secretary would agree with us,” Kendrick said a little more forcefully. “I can call her and see if she appreciates your interrupting us, Cliff.”
Cliff gave him a tight smile. “If you want to disturb the Secretary, feel free, Mister Kendrick. She’s in a meeting with the President, but if you think now’s the right time to show her who’s boss, go right ahead.”
While Cliff and the Land Sharks were having their standoff, Naomi got Jamie out of her highchair and Abigail went up front to pay our bill. Len and Kyle, meanwhile, shifted so they were flanking Cliff.
I stood, slung my purse over my shoulder, and took Jamie from Naomi. “I’m sorry, but when Homeland Security needs us, we feel it’s imperative we respond, regardless of the situation. Please call and make an appointment. I’ll be happy to see you as soon as my schedule allows.” Which would be never, but why admit that out loud?
“Thanks, Ambassador, I appreciate it,” Cliff said. He made the “this way” gesture, and we headed for the door, Len and Kyle almost shoving the Land Sharks aside, in that bodyguard way where the almost-shoved knows it’s move your feet or end up on your butt.
Naturally, the Land Sharks followed us onto the sidewalk. “We could discuss our situation while we all go over to the Ho
meland Security building,” Somerall suggested. “It’s not a problem for Cliff to hear what we’re talking about.”
A quick look at the rest of them said they weren’t nearly as sure as Somerall that they wanted Cliff listening in. However, the moment they saw me looking they all nodded enthusiastically.
“Sure,” Cliff said cheerfully. “I’d love to hear what opportunities you’re suggesting to American Centaurion.”
“Driving or walking?” Len asked me.
“We can take you,” Tobin said quickly. “We have a car across the street.”
There was a parking area about a block away, and I could see a Town Car with a driver lounging against it. However, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of getting into an enclosed space with one of these people, let alone all of them, and especially not with Jamie along.
“I don’t think we can all fit in that car,” Abigail said. “In fact, I’m sure we can’t.” She pulled out her phone. “We’ll get our own ride, thanks.”
“Cliff, you can take some in your car, can’t you?” Gardiner asked as Abigail called the Embassy and requested someone come pick us up.
“I walked, sorry,” Cliff replied.
Normally I wasn’t against walking, but it was hot, I hadn’t put sunscreen on me or Jamie, and if we were walking we couldn’t get rid of the Land Sharks any more than if we were in their car with them.
Len put his hand on my back. “We need to move,” he said quietly. “All of us.”
Looked where he was, which was the opposite way from the parking lot we’d all been staring at. Sure enough, there were a lot of people coming toward us, and they were all carrying signs.
“Oh goody. It’s another mob.”
CHAPTER 6
SURE ENOUGH, the mass of people with signs and placards were heading for us. I could hear them chanting something about God hating aliens.
“Those aren’t Club Fifty-One people,” Kyle said. “I think it’s those so-called church people who protest at military funerals.”
“Fantastic. Time to listen to Len and get out of here.”
Interestingly enough, the Land Sharks didn’t look pleased. In fact, they looked panicked. “You have a car coming, right?” Gardiner said as the five of them started backing toward their car.
“Yes, I think—”
“Wonderful,” Somerall said, as he took Gardiner’s elbow and they all started across the street. “We’ll call you!”
They didn’t run, but they walked with really fast purpose, Somerall motioning wildly to his driver, who flung the car doors open then got into the driver’s seat. To his credit, Somerall got Gardiner into the car first, then the four men leaped in, the doors slammed, and they took off. Their car didn’t peel out, but if there had been a cop around, they’d have definitely gotten a ticket for excessive speed.
“Well, one problem gone, and another bigger one’s coming. It’s just our lucky day, isn’t it?” I hugged Jamie.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” Jamie said. “Mous-Mous is here.”
Cliff looked worried. “Chuck’s right—he and Jeff can’t let you out of their sight without a problem starting. We can’t have one of your Poofs, ah, activating.”
“Dude, no kidding and this wasn’t, and isn’t, our fault.”
“Argue later,” Len said. “We need to get out of here.”
Took another look at the mob and decided I’d let the Poof activate well before I’d let them hurt my daughter. Some of the people were waving their signs around, and it was easy to see that these really were the mentally unbalanced folks who thought their God was nicknamed The Hater. I’d read about how these people operated—they weren’t going to be nice because three of us were women and we had a little girl along.
“Back into the restaurant,” Kyle said. He took Naomi and Abigail’s arms and started moving them inside. Len did the same with me and Cliff.
“We could use hyperspeed,” Naomi suggested.
“Not good,” Cliff said. “It’ll get spun badly by the media. Trust me.”
“But we have a car coming,” Abigail protested.
“It can’t get here before the mob does,” Len said.
This was true. They were less than a block away, clearly heading for us, and no gray limo was in evidence on the street.
Once we got back inside, Kyle locked the door behind us while Len went to Rosemarie and told her what was going on. Then the boys took hold of us again and moved us through the Teetotaler.
“There’s a back entrance,” Kyle shared as we hurried past the restrooms. “We’ll go out that way and the car can find us somewhere safer.”
“Never a dull moment with you guys,” Cliff said as we got into the alleyway behind the restaurant. “Where to?”
Abigail had her phone out. “They’ll get us at any location we want.”
“We can use hyperspeed, so let’s go for Providence Park.”
“You know,” Cliff said quickly, “if you’re not with me, I can probably just stay in the Teetotaler until the mob goes away.”
“Don’t want to barf your guts out?” Hyperspeed was hard on humans. Tito had created a nice Hyperspeed Dramamine drug that worked great for combating hyperspeed nausea. Our human agents now took some every day. However, I didn’t wander around with spare pills on me, so I had none to give Cliff.
He grinned. “Not if I can help it, no. Besides, if the mob comes in the restaurant, it’ll help them if I’m there to at least tell the police what happened.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for the save.”
“Any time. When Mimi sends the ‘we’re in trouble’ text, I listen. Call or text if you need me again, and let me know when you get back home safely.” He hugged me, kissed Jamie, hugged the Gower girls, then went back inside.
Naomi grabbed Len, Abigail took Kyle, and we set off for the park, which was close by. It took only a couple seconds to get there and find a good spot to “appear.” Len and Kyle made sure the area was reasonably clear and we all lounged casually under some trees.
“Limo will be here in five to ten minutes,” Abigail said. “Where are we going, once we get out of here?”
Was about to answer when I looked down the street. “Are you kidding me? Is that seriously the same mob we just escaped from?”
Naomi squinted. “Honestly, the signs are different. I think it’s Club Fifty-One.”
“My God, we just rock the lucky today, don’t we?”
“I don’t think they’ve seen us yet,” Abigail said.
“Give them time,” Kyle muttered.
“Let’s move into the foliage a bit more,” Len suggested.
As we did so Naomi’s phone rang. “Yes? Hi, Aunt Gladys.” She stepped a bit away, which was good, because my phone rang.
The main Embassy landline, meaning it was probably Walter. “Yo, Walt, things suck here, how’re you?”
“Ah, Ambassador?” The voice wasn’t Walter’s. And Walter always called me Chief, because I was now the sole Chief of Mission. But the voice was familiar.
“Who is this?”
“It’s William, Ambassador.” Walter’s older brother.
“Why are you calling me from the Embassy?”
“I’m covering for Walter.”
“Really. So, here’s a question—what is one of our top imageers doing handling Embassy Security? Or, to put it another way, where is my Walter?”
“Walter’s at a Security training session at Dulce.”
“Since when?”
“Since Gladys called it. We do these periodically. Some are planned, some are impromptu. This one’s both. Planned for most, impromptu for some, like Walter.”
“Okay. So why is he at the Science Center for training?”
“Because there’s a big dust storm around Home Base and the training session needs to be held both indoors and outdoors.”
“Gotcha. And you’re covering his job because . . . ?”
“Because someone needed to cover Embassy Security, and it was de
cided that I was the most trustworthy option.”
“Cannot argue with that logic. Other than to mention that I wasn’t informed of any training sessions, impromptu or otherwise, or temporary personnel switches.”
William cleared his throat. “Ah, you don’t need to be informed, Ambassador. Gladys handles all of that, and if she says it’s time for training, it’s time for training, and if she says I’m covering during Walter’s training session, then I’m covering.”
“Gotcha.” Couldn’t argue. Gladys was the Head of Security for all A-C operations worldwide. She was considered scary formidable and I concurred on the scary. Three-plus years in and I’d never seen her in person, or seen a picture of her. I was okay with this, mostly because Gladys was one of the few people around who could intimidate me, and she had sarcasm down to an art form.
“Ambassador, are you alright?”
“That remains to be seen. Why aren’t you calling me Kitty?”
William laughed. “Because Walter left me very specific instructions, and it’s vital to the running of this Embassy that whoever’s running Security call you Ambassador or Chief. Per his very detailed page about titles and why they matter here.”
“I love Walter. And you, too.”
“Always good to know. Representative Martini asked me to reach you. He hasn’t had a chance to look at the texts from you or Naomi, excuse me, Cultural Attaché Gower-Reynolds, but needs to have an early luncheon meeting and it’s going to be at the Embassy. He’d like you to attend.”
“Why did he have you call me instead of calling me himself?”
“He’s been in locked-door and no-calls meetings all morning, and so has Mister Reynolds. That’s why he hasn’t looked at your texts. Representative Martini was able to make one phone call, and he chose to call me, so that I could make all other calls for him.”
“How convenient.” Though it did explain why Naomi had called Cliff—she’d gotten the same automated text messages I had from Jeff and Chuckie. “But I don’t buy that as the only reason.”
