by Gini Koch
“The pocket with the detonator also held Farley Pecker’s wallet.”
“Interesting. I assume Gutermuth gave it to him, or even slipped it into his pocket.” Good to see the Poofs had totally been on the job.
“The K-9 squad was called because of their close association with us. Officer Melville suggested that Harvey Gutermuth was probably involved. Both men have been found and taken in. Melville said he’d keep me posted.”
“Hope they gave them some jumpsuits to wear. Ugly orange ones for preference.”
“We can hope,” Jeff said. “But I never count on that these days, baby.”
“The cops feel your pain, Jeff,” Tim said. “Believe me.”
Once we were at the gravesite, Gower seemed back under control. He gave a lovely eulogy for Michael, presumably the one he’d planned to give earlier. He also mentioned Naomi and Gladys, saying that Michael’s grave would be their memorial as well.
Pierre had brought in dozens of roses, and everyone had one. I took two. As they left, each attendee put a rose onto the coffin. Amy and I went with Caroline. Amy put her rose on without a word.
Caroline stepped up and put her rose on the casket. “Goodbye, Michael. I miss you so much already and I know I’m going to miss you so much more as time goes by.”
I hugged her as she started to cry. “Cry all you need, Caro.”
But she got herself under control and nodded to me. “I’m okay. Well, as okay as I can be right now. Your turn.”
I put both my roses on top of the others. “Michael, be sure you keep all the girls in heaven feeling attractive. I know you’re up to it. And Fuzzball, you keep on taking care of him like the good Poof you are.”
We moved off so the rest of the family could do the same. As Mom had expected, Nathalie Brewer and Vance Beaumont both came over to express condolences and hug me. Guy Gadoire was with Vance, of course, and did the same. Lillian Culver and Abner Schnekedy were also along but they had the grace to not try to hug me.
Sooner than I’d have expected we were done, and the drivers went to get the limos. Per Raj the troubadours had gone back to the Embassy once the bomb squad had come to investigate and they knew the bombs had been found.
Pierre had an after-funeral buffet set up in the Embassy complex, and all our people and our closer political friends were there. The children were with us now, too, and it was nice to get to carry Jamie around and cuddle her without worrying about what we were going to do next.
Miraculously, for a party we were throwing, no one died. Figured we’d had enough death already and the cosmos had chosen to cut us a break.
The nice thing about parties that take place after a funeral is that the majority don’t linger. Even so, by the time we’d gotten everyone out of the Embassy, and then swept for bombs, bugs, and other unsavory things at least three times, it was fairly late.
After we made sure all those sleeping over were tucked away, Mom, Dad, Jeff, Jamie, and I headed upstairs. Once Jamie was in bed and snoozing with all the pets, Mom and Dad hugged and kissed us good night and went to their guest room.
Jeff and I got undressed. “You did great today, baby,” Jeff said as I gathered up our clothes. “I didn’t want to say too much out in public, in case someone would try to use it against us, but you were amazing.”
“Thanks. I just didn’t want to see Paul have to suffer through something he wasn’t emotionally ready to deal with.”
“You were exactly what our Head Diplomat is supposed to be.” Jeff kissed me. “And I’m incredibly proud of you.”
“I’m always proud of you, so I’m glad I made you proud of me, too.” Feeling quite good all things considered, I trotted into the closet, went to the hamper, and tossed our clothes in. “Thank you,” I said quietly.
Algar appeared sitting cross-legged on the hamper. “For what?”
“For whatever.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. You came up with that speech all by yourself.”
“Yeah, well more went on than that.”
He shrugged. “Everyone who arrived to help you truly went of their own free will.”
“The Poofs did a good job.”
“Again, it was their choice.”
“You’re worried I’m going to worship the Great God Algar and bring the people hunting for you. You can relax—I don’t think you’re a god.”
“You insinuated you did during your run-in with the people exercising the worst kind of free will.”
My turn to shrug. “You’re pretty amazing, but I know you’re not a god. And you know me, I’ll say whatever I need to.”
He smiled. “I know. Would you like to know the weather forecast?”
This was a new one. “Sure?”
“Quiet, with a strong side of regrouping. I know you don’t feel like you were successful, but you’ve hurt your enemy far more than you know. You’ll have some breathing room. Not a lot, but more than you’re used to. So use it wisely.”
“I was thinking I’d use it to celebrate life and have lots of sex with my husband. Like my King of the Elves likes to recommend. You know, in between all the dedicated work stuff I’m sure you’re actually talking about us doing.”
Algar laughed and disappeared. In his place was Jeff’s fedora.
“What did you say?” Jeff asked as he came into the closet.
I picked up the fedora. “You know, it’s been a while since you’ve worn this.”
Jeff grinned, took the hat from me, flipped it onto his head, and picked me up. “Then let’s rectify that right away, Ambassador.”
“Oh, Congressman Martini, I love how you think.”
Coming in May 2014:
the ninth novel in the Alien series
from Gini Koch
ALIEN COLLECTIVE
Read on for a sneak preview
“YOU HAVE THE RIGHT to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“I’d like to say two words—Diplomatic Immunity. Then I’d like to say other words like, I want to call my lawyer, the President, my mom, and a few other people like Officer Melville.” The cop helped me up into the paddy wagon.
“That’s nice.” Of course, he was now actually helping my lawyer into the big metal van. Amy Gaultier-White patted my hand. “You and all the rest get to go to headquarters first, ma’am. Then you can make all those calls you want to make.”
“Diplomatic Immunity. We do remember what that means?”
The cop smiled as he helped several other women into the paddy wagon with me. “Yes, ma’am, Ambassador Katt-Martini. We do know.”
“I’m the Ambassador for the American Centaurion Diplomatic Mission. My husband is a congressman. And you’re risking pissing off a lot of important people.”
“Comes with the job, ma’am.”
“Why are we being arrested? Since when is arresting diplomats your job? Every woman with me is part of my diplomatic mission.” In some way, at any rate. Wasn’t sure if I could count the female members of Alpha Team as being part of the Embassy staff. Then again, I was the Ambassador, so I could make those decisions and decide I’d officially instated them as Disturbance Attachés before we left. Minor moral dilemma solved. Major dilemma still not solved.
“You’re at the scene of a disturbance, ma’am. Ambassador or not.”
“I’ll say it again, officer—Diplomatic Immunity.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The cop gave me the Concerned Officer of the Law look. “You’re being moved off the streets for your own protection, ladies.”
“Peaceful protest is part of our democracy,” Abigail said.
“My husband’s going to hear about this,” Serene added. “He’s an astronaut.”
“I’ll watch out for falling moon rocks, ma’am,” the cop said to her. Wasn’t positive, but I was pretty sure he was trying really hard not to laugh. “However, your own protection currently supersedes your immunity.”
“Since when?” Amy as
ked.
“Since now.” The cop closed the back doors. Nicely. But still.
“Well,” Lorraine said, “at least we’re not chained up or handcuffed.”
“Speak for yourself,” Claudia muttered.
“You tried to hit one of the officers in the face,” Lorraine pointed out.
“He was being rude.” Claudia looked around. “Can I get out of these now?”
“Sure. You want to break them or have me or Amy pick the lock?”
Lorraine Billings, Claudia Muir, Serene Dwyer, and Abigail Gower were all female A-Cs, or, as I called them to myself, Dazzlers. Dazzlers were, to a one, gorgeous, which was par for the A-Cs. They were also all brilliant by human standards, usually focused on medicine, math, and/or science. My girls were also focused on butt kicking.
To a one they looked awed and impressed. “You and Amy have finally learned to pick locks?” Serene asked.
Amy and I both sighed. “Yes, Malcolm’s been working on it with us,” I shared.
“A lot,” Amy added, clearly going for the Full Disclosure option.
Malcolm Buchanan was assigned to be my personal shadow. He was also pretty much the most comprehensively competent dude in covert and clandestine ops imaginable. During Operation Infiltration he’d taught the four Dazzlers with us how to pick locks. Amy and I hadn’t done so well with that. So Buchanan had made it a point to ensure that we knew how. Sadly, it hadn’t come that easily to either one of us, which was something of an embarrassment, but both Amy and I were proficient lock pickers now.
Amy pulled a metal nail file out of her purse. “Too slow, Kitty.” She went to work.
“At least some of us made it,” Claudia said as Amy got the cuffs off her and she rubbed her wrists.
The doors opened again and two more women were put in—Doreen Weisman, our last Dazzler on Embassy Duty, and Denise Lewis, who was human but frankly gorgeous enough to pass for alien.
“Diplomatic Immunity!” Doreen shouted. “Do you all understand what that term means?”
The cops smiled, nodded, and shut the doors again. “So much for Claudia’s optimism,” I said. “I thought you two had gotten away.”
“We did, too,” Doreen said.
“Someone in the crowd pointed us out,” Denise added with more than a trace of bitterness.
The doors opened again and Nurse Magdalena Carter and my sorority roommate and bestie, Carolyn Chase, were both helped inside. “This is supposed to be the land of freedom and opportunity,” Nurse Carter said darkly. “Not the land of oppression.” She was originally from Paraguay and had joined us during Operation Assassination.
“Senator McMillan is going to hear about this!” Carolyn was the senator’s Girl Friday.
“I’m sure he will, miss,” the officer said. “From more than just you.”
Counted noses. We were missing one person. Sure enough, the doors opened again. Though who was being helped in wasn’t on my list of Girls Gone Washington Wild.
“Lucinda? What are you and my daughter doing here?”
Yes indeed, my mother-in-law was there, carrying my daughter, Jamie. Two officers helped them in, with a third standing behind to catch them if Lucinda lost her balance.
“Thank you so much,” she said to the officers. “You’re all too kind, and I just want you to know how much we appreciate all the good work you do and long hours you put in.”
She got very friendly smiles from the cops. “You’re very welcome, ma’am. You and the little lady be sure to sit down so you don’t lose your balance.” The doors shut again.
“Mommy, this is so much fun! Gran’ma Luci said we could come watch you work!” Jamie bounced over to me for hugs and kisses.
Happily gave out the necessary snuggles, then handed Jamie to Amy for more of the same. “Lucinda, what part of ‘you and Jamie stay at the Embassy’ didn’t come through clearly?”
“No part of it, Kitty,” she said as she settled herself in between Doreen and Serene, opposite Amy. “I just thought it would be fun for Jamie to see what you girls were up to.”
Lorraine and Amy both nudged me. “I think Kitty just wanted to be sure you and Jamie didn’t get hurt,” Amy said as she finished loving on Jamie and handed her to Abigail. “And I have to agree. Are you alright?”
“Oh, yes, Amy dear, we’re both fine. It was quite exciting, all the chanting and jumping up and down.”
Managed to keep my mouth shut but only by grinding my teeth. Abigail hugged Jamie then passed her on to Carolyn.
“You do realize it’s a political protest?” Serene asked, radiating innocence. While my first impression of Serene, during Operation Drug Addict, was that she was a crazy loon, my second, third, fourth, and fifth impressions of her were Innocence on the Hoof.
However, I’d learned there was a lot more to Serene than most of us ever saw. Right now, for example, I had a feeling she was asking because she knew I couldn’t do so without snarling, and she was doing it in such a way as to not upset Lucinda.
And it worked, of course. Lucinda patted Serene’s knee. “Oh, yes, dear, I know. It’s part of how our great host country works, and it’s important for Jamie to see that, to see how her father is a part of something so much bigger than himself.”
“Jeff’s always been a part of something bigger than himself,” I pointed out.
“Yes, Kitty, but Jamie couldn’t go to active situations with her father, now could she?”
Regardless of Amy and Lorraine’s nudging, Doreen and Serene’s wide-eyed “shut up, shut up” stares, and what I could feel radiating from the rest of the girls—that I needed to keep my mouth shut—I couldn’t stop myself. “Um, have you been paying attention to anything that’s gone on since Jamie was born?”
Fortunately, before Lucinda could reply and I could gain more Bad Daughter-In-Law Points, the doors opened again. And, just like the last time, who was being shoved into the paddy wagon with us wasn’t anyone I was expecting.
Lillian Culver was helped inside. “Thank you, officers, that will be all.”
“Yes, ma’am. Do you need anything else?” the officer who’d been doing most of the talking asked. Unlike with Lucinda, where he’d clearly been happy to help, or with me and the others, where he’d been trying not to laugh, right now he seemed very controlled and official. Presumed he knew exactly who Culver was.
“No, no, we’re all good here now.” Lillian turned to me and smiled widely. She was a top lobbyist, the top for most of the big defense contractors, meaning she was incredibly powerful and influential in this town—the epitome of a Washington insider. And, as seemed to be the “thing” here, she had “her color,” which happened to be red.
Culver was an attractive enough woman, until you looked at her just long enough. Then you realized she was all bones and angles, with a very wide mouth her bright red lipstick really emphasized. I called her Joker Jaws to myself for a reason.
Right now, I was getting the Joker’s smug “I’ve trapped Batman and all his cronies” look from Culver. Couldn’t wait to hear what she wanted.
But before Culver spoke, the doors opened yet again. “Good grief, it’s like a Marx Brothers film in here. We’re about to be at standing room only.”
Culver laughed and reached her hand down. “Nathalie, you’re here, too?”
Representative Nathalie Gagnon-Brewer was helped in by the officers and Culver. “Thanks, Lillian. Kitty, I’m glad I caught up with all of you.” She was a French expatriate, a former international fashion model, and a widow. Her husband, Edmund, had been a representative from California, and he’d been murdered during Operation Sherlock. As with Jeff, the President had asked Nathalie to take over her husband’s seat in Congress. And as with Jeff, considering the state of the union and the world after Operation Destruction—when Earth had gotten to learn, in a really big way, that we weren’t alone in the cosmos—Nathalie had said yes.
“Wait for me, wait for me,” a man called before the cops could close our now ve
ry full paddy wagon up again. Vance Beaumont climbed inside. “Thanks, guys, appreciate you holding the car for me,” he said to the officers.
They nodded and closed the doors behind him. “Vance, what are you doing here?” I asked.
Vance was married to Guy Gadoire, who was to the tobacco industry what Culver was to defense. Vance spent his days thumbing through GQ and dressing accordingly, throwing lavish parties, and hanging around.
Despite all of this, I’d come to realize he had a functioning brain he liked to keep hidden, and he was actually a better friend to me now than I’d have ever thought when we first met. Same with Nathalie, of course. And while Culver and I couldn’t be called friends, thanks to my “uncles” the top assassins, she and I had a good working relationship where she didn’t try to push me into making bad decisions for American Centaurion too often and I returned the favor by not threatening to “call home” too often.
“I thought this was a woman’s rally against the anti-alien Presidential candidate,” Lucinda added as Vance jumped the line and took Jamie from Nathalie—who’d just barely gotten her from Carolyn—to give her a quick “airplane flight” she loved, if her squealing with joy was any indication.
Vance gave Jamie a kiss, handed her off to Culver, and shrugged. “I have the wife role in my relationship, in case you missed that key point, and, also in case you didn’t notice, the Cleary-Maurer ticket is also anti-gay.”
“And anti-woman,” Nathalie added. “They aren’t pro minorities, either.”
Shocking me to my core, Culver both cuddled Jamie—who didn’t scream in horror but instead cuddled back—and nodded. “They need to be stopped.”
“Wait, what? Lillian, are you saying you were here as part of the protest?”
Culver shrugged, gave Jamie a kiss, and handed her over to Doreen. “Yes. I’m a woman, in case you didn’t notice, and I’m not excited about what Cleary and Maurer both stand for.”
“They stand for hate,” Lucinda said calmly as Jamie clambered from Doreen and over Lucinda to get to Serene. “And, as such, they need to be opposed.” She looked right at me. “And our young women need to see that their role models are so opposing.”
