by Gini Koch
“I can only imagine. So they’re letting people keep coming in?”
“Can’t keep anything from you, can we?”
I noted Reader sauntering up the middle aisle. Unsurprisingly, he looked awesome and like he was on the runway. People looked at him, to the point where conversations stopped and heads literally turned. “Is it safe for James to be basically standing there saying, ‘Look at me, go for it, shoot the hottest guy in the room first’?”
“My ego is what’s shot. My wife’s been stolen by my uncle and is casually telling me my gay friend is the hottest thing on two legs.”
“I’m not the one wearing the pick-up shirt.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ll translate it for you later, Jeff. Are you guys going to do something, or should Rick and I go back to handling it?”
Christopher looked over at us. He shook his head. “Good. No one’s altered yet.” Jeff sighed. “I think we can handle it.”
“Christopher’s powers are scary.”
“We’ll discuss scary once we’re out of this. I may never sleep again.”
“Not to worry, Jeffrey. I’ll keep Kathy with me.” I could tell White was trying not to crack up.
“Thanks so much.”
“Oh, Jeff, Rick says Ronaldo up there is really Yates’ son, but likely not from Serene’s mother.”
“Yeah, he hit like an A-C, so not a surprise. So you were right, then wrong, then right? Geez, that gives me a headache just thinking about it.”
Reader took a seat in the front row. Literally. I wasn’t sure if there’d been a free one or he just moved someone over with the force of his cover-boy smile, but he was right up front. “Seriously, why is James the sitting duck?”
An older man got up and started speaking in French. I could make out one word in about ten. However, it wasn’t hard to guess what they were saying. Only, words weren’t computing. My French wasn’t that awful. The person speaking wasn’t making sense, though. As far as I could tell, he was talking about Reader, not Al Dejahl.
I looked over to where Christopher was. Chuckie and the Gower girls were next to Amy. I could see her talking to them. I watched her mouth move, then heard the words I was pretty sure she’d just said come out of the man who was giving the introductory speech.
Wild cheering started, and then Reader stood up, turned around and waved. He was wearing a “Paris, je t’aime” shirt. It looked like designer-wear on him. The kids went nuts. The adults went nuts, too. “What’s going on?”
“Top international male model, remember? The top. Before he retired?” Jeff was grinning. “He’s not quite as popular here as Jerry Lewis, but apparently that Calvin Klein ad you loved so much and was so controversial back home is considered high modern art over here.”
“That’s awesome, but how does it get the kids out safely?”
“You know, it’s amazing how many humans one A-C can drag and still go fast.”
“Not every single person in this room, I can guarantee that.”
“Don’t need to get them out if things are handled properly.”
“You don’t want to tell us anything, do you?”
“I’m reveling in having something I’m in charge of actually work out right, yeah.”
White chuckled. “James seems in his element.” He also seemed fluent in French—he was speaking now, fast and clear, like a native.
“Is there anything James can’t do?”
“Turn straight, thank God.” Jeff sighed. “Look, seriously, can I have my wife back?”
White sighed. “Well, it was enjoyable while it lasted.”
I started to move to Jeff when I saw something up in the higher level, where I thought the brochure had said the choir was. A figure, holding a rifle with a silencer on it. Aimed at us.
Aimed at only one of us.
CHAPTER 61
I SHOVED JEFF AND WHITE, hard. We were near pillars, and I managed to get each of them behind one before the bullet left the gun. I did the splits. I’d never been able to do them before, but clearly they were part of my repertoire now. The bullet hit the wall above my head.
Jeff grabbed me and pulled us to the same pillar as White. His hearts were pounding. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Yeah. Is this part of the plan?”
“Hilarious. Not quite. Richard, you okay?”
“Yes. I really think we need to get her a catsuit.” White looked around the pillar. “The man with the rifle’s moved.”
“Chuckie’s going to be his next target.”
“How? He’s on the same side.” Jeff looked around. “Thank God for the silencer, no one noticed.”
I looked around Jeff. “Chuckie noticed.” He was in the middle of the room, heading for us at a run. For whatever reason, there was a gap, and no others were close to him. I knew what this meant. I pulled away from Jeff and ran as well. Tackled Chuckie and brought him down. The next bullet hit the ground. I could tell it would have hit his head if he’d still been upright. “James, we have a sniper!”
Reader shouted in French as he grabbed Al Dejahl. I was pretty sure he’d told everyone to hit the ground, because they did, with a lot of screaming.
I was still on top of Chuckie. “Not that I don’t love this, but I think we need to move.” His eyes widened. “Or not.”
I looked over my shoulder. Cooper was standing there, rifle pointed at us. “It won’t matter,” he snarled. “You’ll all be dead soon.”
Chuckie shoved me one way and rolled the other. Next bullet hit the ground, pretty much where our hearts had been. I thought the next bullet would go into one of us, but Cooper jerked, flung the rifle up, and fired straight ahead.
I looked, expecting to see Reader go down. What I saw instead was Al Dejahl throw himself in front of Reader and take the bullet. In his head.
I heard the rifle clatter to the ground. Chuckie had spent his time tackling Cooper. They were fighting, but Chuckie was winning. Cooper managed to pull a smaller gun. I screamed, Chuckie grabbed Cooper’s wrist, and I heard bone snap.
The gun fell to the ground. Then Chuckie twisted Cooper’s head in a way I knew meant we had another bad guy down. He let Cooper’s body fall to the floor as Michael and Brian ran up.
The crowd stayed reasonably calm. I looked around—it was clear Jeff and Christopher were doing crowd control. Jerry and Hughes ran in with Paris police. Reporters were right behind them. I recognized one of them.
“Chuckie, what are we going to do? In addition to everyone else, our buddy Mister Joel Oliver is somehow here, too.”
He reached down and pulled me up and into his arms. “Leave Oliver to me and the rest of it to your husband,” he said quietly. “Don’t talk to anyone. Thanks for the save. All the saves.” I hugged him back. I managed not to shake, but only just. He rocked me, and I felt a little better.
White ran over and pulled me out of Chuckie’s arms. “Kathy, you were so brave.”
Freaked but not dumb. “You know, Rick, one of those once in a lifetime things.” I pulled his head down. “What’s going on?”
“Pretty much what Jeffrey and Christopher had planned.”
“You mean me, Chuckie and James almost being shot in the head was supposed to be happening?”
“Tell you later. Just be my good little trophy wife, we’re going to get interviewed shortly.”
“Are you kidding me? Chuckie told me not to say anything!”
No sooner had I hissed this into White’s ear when a microphone was shoved in our faces and a reporter was talking to us, rapidly, in French.
“Tourists. American tourists,” White said, sounding like a confused regular guy. I decided burying my face girlishly in “my husband’s” chest was a better option than opening my mouth, so I did.
I heard more voices, one of them familiar. Looked out, to see Reader being interviewed. Good, our spokesmodel was handling things. In perfect French.
Chuckie had Mister Joel Oliver by the arm
and was leading him away. Oliver didn’t look to be fighting it. I had no idea if Chuckie was handing him a line of bull, promising an exclusive later, threatening his life, or having Jeff or Christopher do a mind alteration attempt. Decided the World Weekly News getting this story was the least of our immediate issues.
I looked around, and Tim caught my eye. He gave me a small nod and looked up. I looked up, too. To see a lot of clear balloons resting against the ceiling. Knew where the gas was. Figured they’d added helium to it to keep the gas conveniently out of the way until they were ready to start the test.
Paris police performed crowd control. I noted that Tim, Tito, all the flyboys, Jeff, and Christopher weren’t anywhere around any more. Neither were Melanie and Emily, though the Gower girls were with us. No Amy, either.
Our group, or at least the portion of our group here, was herded elsewhere while medical arrived to take Al Dejahl’s and Cooper’s bodies away. Reader was still talking to the police and reporters. Michael and Brian were with him. I got the impression our story was the brave American astronauts on holiday saved the day, but I couldn’t be positive. I couldn’t see where Chuckie and Oliver had gotten to.
Naomi grabbed me and pulled me to the side, away from the others. “Sorry. We lost concentration at a bad time. But we have to get out of here.”
“What the hell was and is going on?”
“Abby and I tapped into Cooper’s mind. He was going to shoot the balloons to release the gas. Our plan was for me and Abby to control Cooper, have him shoot Al Dejahl and then we kill him, thereby stopping the terrorist from killing anyone else. Gets them both out of the way and us out of it reasonably well.”
“So Cooper shooting at me and Chuckie was there for added excitement?”
Naomi gave me a dirty look. “No. Abby and I lost concentration when . . .”
“When what?” I got the usual bad feeling in my stomach.
“When Mister Gaultier grabbed Amy. Christopher doesn’t know, he was already in place to do crowd control. Chuck does, but he was more concerned about you, Richard, and Jeff. It was hard to tell which one of you was the target.”
“Me.” I knew Chuckie had known that, too. “Why did Al Dejahl take the bullet intended for James?”
“James is good at fake throwing. First grab looked like he was protecting Al Dejahl. Then he tossed him so it looked like Al Dejahl was being a hero and saving the handsome celebrity.” Naomi managed a small smile. “James is really amazing.”
“True, very true. Anyway, how did Gaultier take Amy? No way she went with him willingly.”
“Uh, gun to her temple? He didn’t shoot us only because we didn’t try to stop him.”
“Great. Yeah, we have to get out of here.” I looked up at the ceiling. The guys looked precariously perched around the upper levels. I concentrated, and a shimmering bubble went around the balloons. I squinted, and the bubble started to shrink. The balloons popped, but noiselessly, and the gas didn’t escape. Made the bubble smaller and smaller, until it disappeared.
“How did you do that?” Naomi sounded freaked and impressed.
“Tell you later.”
Jeff and the others joined us shortly. Figured they’d used hyperspeed. He came up next to me. “How in God’s name—?”
“Really, tell you later. We have a bigger problem.”
“Two of them,” Melanie said as she and Emily joined us. “We went with the medical team to check and make sure Cooper and Al Dejahl were really dead. They are, but the one who looked like Al Dejahl only had a single heart.”
“How can you tell when he’s dead?”
Emily shrugged. “Have scalpel, will travel.”
The rest of our group, other than Reader, Michael, and Brian were with us now. I spotted Oliver in the crowd of reporters, mostly because Michael was standing next to him. “Chuckie, what’s up with Mister Joel Oliver? Why is he here?”
“He’s here because of the clustered incident from last week. He’s getting this story and will print what everyone else prints.”
“Why is that?”
Chuckie managed a small smile. “Because I promised him a bigger scoop later.” I raised my eyebrow, and he sighed. “I’m giving him intel on Cooper. Nothing classified, but I’m going to be sure Cooper’s reputation’s trashed. Michael Gower’s agreed to see that our favorite reporter gets an exclusive shot of the astronauts to seal this deal. We’re good on the paparazzi front.”
“I’m all over speaking ill of this particular dead. Okay, great. So back to the bigger issues. The real Ronaldo Al Dejahl is out there somewhere, and, realistically, we have no idea what he looks like.”
“What do you mean? We’ve all seen him.” Christopher looked around. “Where’s Amy?” We brought the others up to speed, fast. Christopher’s jaw clenched. “Let’s get out of here.”
“No,” White said calmly. “I want to hear Kathy’s explanation for why she doesn’t think we know what Al Dejahl looks like.”
I was worried, but I had to laugh at everyone’s expression. “Have you all met my husband, Rick? Look, the real Al Dejahl is an A-C, because Richard felt two hearts when he was fighting him, and Jeff said he hit like an A-C. A-Cs have talents, and I’ll wager he’s a troubadour with imageering ability. He’s making himself look like who or what he wants. For this particular operation, he made himself look like the actor or agent the C.I.A. hired to impersonate him. We have no idea what he looks like, but I’m putting money on him resembling Richard in some way. Serene resembles Richard, if you know what to look for.”
“Where would he go? Or Gaultier?” Jeff had his Commander voice on.
“They want Jamie.” I said that calmly. I was proud of myself.
“Yeah, who’s going to let them in?” Jeff didn’t sound nearly as calm.
I looked at White. “What are the odds?”
He nodded. “Good, very good.”
I put my hands in the pockets of his jacket. “The Poofs are gone.”
“Good. I think we know where they went.” White looked at Jeff. “Gaultier isn’t going to the same place. I imagine Christopher can track where he’s gone, or at least where Amy is. You take them.” White took my hand. “Your wife and I will handle my half brother.”
Jeff shook his head. “It’s my daughter they’re going after.”
“Yes, it is. It’s my grandniece. And my half sister—they want Serene as well.” White gave Jeff a long look. “You have to trust us right now, Jeffrey. You need to find Gaultier and Amy and keep Christopher under control. You’re the only one who can, and he’s the only one who can find her now, isn’t he?”
“Jeff, I won’t let anyone get our baby.” I put my hand on his arm. “Richard’s right. And we have to go, now, or all of us will be too late.”
“She’s just a tiny baby.” Jeff sounded like he was going to lose it.
“Yes, she is. She’s also so powerful Cooper was expecting her to warp over from Dulce to Paris to save her daddy. My mother’s with her, and so are the girls. Trust me—nothing’s scarier than a mother protecting her young.” I could feel the power building. I leaned up and kissed him. “I love you, Jeff. Go save Amy and keep Christopher and the others safe while you do it.”
I pulled at White, and we raced out of the building.
CHAPTER 62
I RAN US TO THE PARKING GARAGE.
“Why here?” White asked when we stopped running.
“So no one but you sees. Hold onto me.” I wrapped my arms around him, he wrapped his around me, and I concentrated. I knew where I wanted us to go. I felt the power build and expand.
We moved, fast as a gate, but with no nausea. The movement stopped, and the power faded. We stepped apart and looked around. We were in the Lair.
“Why here?” White asked. “Why not right by Jamie?”
“I assume we need to sneak up on the situation. Seeing two of you in one place will freak everyone out.”
He took my hand, and we moved out of the room. �
�Elevator?”
“Stairs. I don’t know what level they’re on. So we search each floor.” We hypersped through the lower level. No one was there—including Clarence. Not a good sign, but not a surprise, either.
Moved up, no one on any of the lower levels. “This is just like Operation Fugly. Everyone was up top. Why do the bad guys like to herd everyone into one damned spot?”
“Easier to perform genocide. Or make the pronouncement that there’s someone impersonating your Pontifex and he should be killed on sight.”
“Yeah, I was sort of expecting that, too.”
“I assume he’s told everyone that the others are being mind-controlled or impersonated, which is why you sent them after Amy.”
“That and, frankly, you and I seem to be doing pretty darned okay on our own.”
White laughed. “You do make becoming a field agent sound more appealing than it ever has before.”
Reached the library level. Lots and lots of people in here. But they were quiet. They were listening. “And, unfortunately, Gower is unable to function now. We’ll need to pull the entity out of him in order to keep his mind from destroying itself.” It sounded like White, unless you actually knew how he talked.
I pulled his head down. “At least some of them have to be wondering what’s wrong with ‘you.’ You don’t talk like this.”
“Enough will be too frightened to notice.” We were in the back, behind a pillar, and we both scanned the room. “I don’t see your parents. Or the baby.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated. “Oh, God. He has them locked into isolation chambers. Paul was already there, but Serene, Lorraine, Claudia, my mother and father are in chambers, too. I don’t know how he did it.”
“He’s a hybrid. We have no idea what his talents are. He may have mind control abilities. Do you see the baby?”
I moved us a bit. Now we could see Al Dejahl. He looked just like White normally did—full Armani suit, handsome, kindly. And he was wearing a Snugli carrier. With my baby inside it. I was ready to lunge.
