Kitty Katt 14: Alien Nation

by Gini Koch

  My phone rang, interrupting the Psych Furs. Hadn’t gone hands-free, but my earbuds allowed me to answer calls, so I risked it and let go with one hand so I could answer the phone. “FLOTUS Airlines, how may we help you?”

  “Commander, it’s always so fun to join you in your work.”

  “Jerry! So good to hear your voice. The metallic dirigible-looking things are the good guys.”

  “Yes, James and Tim explained that.”

  “Where are Joe and Randy?”

  “With Matt and Chip. They’re going to be following your lead and destroying the enemy from within.”

  As he said this, saw that the planes I knew were piloted by Hughes and Walker had something extra underneath—Joe and Randy were in what looked like giant hammocks holding them to the bottom of the planes.

  “What the literal hell, Jerry?”

  “Kitty, we liked what you were doing,” Hughes said.

  “Are we on a group call?”

  “We are,” Walker replied. “James felt you’d enjoy the nostalgia. And our Six Million Dollar Men said they didn’t want to be shown up by a girl.”

  “They did not put it that way.”

  “You’re right, Kitty,” Joe said, sounding as if he was in a wind tunnel which, under the circumstances, he was. “That’s not how we said it.”

  “We said we wanted to live up to your example,” Randy shared from his own wind tunnel. Had to figure that I sounded this way, too.

  “Awesome. That’s two of you and me, sort of, for eleven choppers. What’s the rest of the team planning to do?”

  “Kicking butt and taking names,” Tim said. “You and the Turleens seem to have reached an understanding.”

  “Hilarious. Is anyone planning to get me or anything or do you all want me to try to take on another Apache by myself?”

  “Yes to getting you, no to your acting like Walker, Texas Ranger,” Reader said. “However, we have to neutralize the threat first, because I can guarantee that our enemies will be shooting at you if we try to grab you right now.”

  “They’re shooting at me and the Turleens, and now you guys, regardless.”

  “Not for long,” Joe said.

  “Seriously have no idea how you think you’re going to drop from a jet onto a helicopter without being shredded by the blades.”

  No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I saw several Turleens fly up under the jets with Joe and Randy underneath.

  “We’re not doing it the stupid way,” Randy said, as his net released and he dropped onto a Turleen. “I told you—we want to live up to your example.”

  Joe followed suit, and both of them were riding the Turleens like I’d ridden Lily—as if the Turleen was a sport bike.

  Had no idea if the Turleens could hear us, had telepathy, or had been observing us long enough to know that the jets and the people in them were on our side, but they were functioning as if all three were the case. The Turleens with Joe and Randy on them zipped off for the nearest helicopters.

  The guys didn’t take as long as I had to get off their respective Turleens. Of course, they had android-enhanced limbs now. Meaning they could hold onto the choppers much more tightly than I could.

  Joe and Randy were moving pretty much at hyperspeed as they quickly reached the cockpits, broke through the glass, tossed the gunners out, broke through the next part of the cockpit, threw the pilots out, then took control of their two choppers.

  Normally it wasn’t safe or comfortable to fly without the protection of the glass and metal that made up a cockpit. Joe and Randy apparently were ignoring the discomfort or their android enhancements meant they weren’t affected. They took on two other choppers.

  Meanwhile, the five jets were focusing firepower on five of the Apaches and the Apaches were returning fire. The Turleens around those choppers broke off fast and clustered around the two remaining unengaged choppers.

  The set of Turleens surrounding the chopper that had the highest altitude started swirling around it. It looked kind of pretty, like a weird, gigantic brass merry-go-round or flying wind chime, but it was effective. There were enough of them that the pilot probably couldn’t see and they were able to cause the chopper to start swirling as well. Didn’t take too long before its nose was pointing down. The Turleens disengaged and zoomed to safety just before the chopper crashed into the desert.

  The other set of Turleens had focused on the last chopper, which was flying low, clearly set on bombing the hell out of the Base. They were doing the same maneuver as the others but weren’t really slowing it. Either the pilot was better than the other, more determined, suicidal, or hoping to score a lot of points by taking out extra aliens, because he was just barreling through them.

  The positive of this was that he had to bank and come around again, so they bought our side some time. But the Turleens he whizzed through spun what looked like out of control. They all recovered, but they disengaged and came over to me and my Dirigible Entourage.

  The roof was still holding up, as far as I could tell. However, I had no idea how much more it could take. Maybe it could withstand a nuke. And maybe one more hit was going to cause it to tumble down. I wasn’t willing to find out. Rescue be damned—it was indeed time to be, if not Walker, Texas Ranger, then at least Lone Wolf McQuade.

  “I need to get into that cockpit!” Had no idea if the Turleens could hear me or not, but all of a sudden they spread out, but in a straight-ish line. And that line was heading for the chopper.

  Decided that they were right—the fastest path was to use them as stepping-stones. Didn’t think about it—now wasn’t the time to contemplate anything other than getting to the last chopper before it was able to destroy anything.

  “Kitty, do not engage!” Reader shouted. “We’ll handle—”

  My call disconnected and Sweet’s “Fox on the Run” came on. “I’m flattered and I copy that, My King of the Elves.”

  Time to use the skills and hope that Algar’s faith and Christopher’s training was going to be enough. One of the things Christopher had worked on with me for years now was to make me not think about anything “new.” I didn’t think about breathing; I shouldn’t think about using hyperspeed. When I was enraged, this happened naturally. When I wasn’t—and Rage had taken a breather and was watching the show, munching on popcorn at the moment—it was a lot harder.

  There was no time to get angry. There was only the now, and the race that had to be won. Pulled up into what, a day ago, I’d have called a turtle position, and took off.

  Happily, didn’t fall flat on my face or even slip, despite the smoothness of the Turleens’ shells. Did have to hurdle to get to each Turleen, but this was absolutely in my wheelhouse. I was a hurdler with a perfect four-step, meaning I could lead with either leg. Never before had this been a more important ability than right now, because the Turleens were spread out about one leap each.

  Hyperspeed didn’t mean you took less steps—it meant you took them faster than the human eye could see, but you still had to take them. Meaning I had to hurdle the entire way. Not a problem, really. I’d trained under the most sadistic track coaches any high school or college had ever seen. This was an actual exercise I’d had to master in freshman year of high school—every step was a hurdle. I’d been good at it then, and I was better at it now.

  The chopper was heading right for us and began firing—bullets as opposed to missiles. Presumed the pilot wanted to save the bombs for the main target.

  I was going so fast now that I could see the bullets coming. It was very much like being in a Matrix movie only I wasn’t in a cool leather trench coat.

  Had to leap to my right to avoid a bullet. There were no Turleens to my right.

  CHAPTER 28

  WELL, there had been no Turleens to my right, but one swooped up from who knew where and I landed on its back. Leaped again, to my l
eft this time, to get back onto my path. But had to move into a somersault to avoid some more bullets.

  Saw two Turleens heading for me, side-by-side again. So, did my best to land with my feet spread apart so that I had a foot on each one. It worked but I took no time to marvel. Bullets were peppering the air and most of the Turleens had had to stop being a living bridge to avoid getting hit.

  Wondered at this for a moment, only because Muddy had seemed so unconcerned. Saw a bullet hit a Turleen and ricochet into one of our side’s planes. Realized the Turleens were breaking off to avoid inadvertently causing friendly fire more than to avoid getting hit themselves.

  I was close enough to my target to feel the wind from the main rotor blades. Wasn’t going to be able to stay upright like this much longer. My Turleens realized it, too, and swooped underneath the chopper. Saw my opportunity and took it—jumped up and grabbed onto the landing gear.

  Time to use the gymnastics skills I didn’t possess.

  Was on one of the wheels and the leg that attached it to the chopper. This wasn’t a great place to be in that I didn’t have Joe and Randy’s android-enhanced limbs, and so couldn’t rip out the undercarriage and crawl in that way.

  Could, however, reach the Hellfire missiles that were right next to me. Well, the term “right next to me” was overstating it a bit. I could see them and the right jump would mean I could grab onto a missile.

  Had no idea how securely the missiles were clamped in before they were launched, but had to figure they were pretty secure since no one wanted a missile falling off just because the aircraft had hit turbulence.

  Had lucked into jumping onto the side with all four missiles still in place. However, there was no doubt in my mind that the gunner was going to let all of them fly at Caliente Base as soon as possible.

  This was confirmed by a missile from the other side firing. Watched its trajectory. Wasn’t aimed at the Base. Squinted and could make out bodies on the ground. Moving bodies. Meaning they were firing on either civilians or people coming to help. Time to stop worrying about the weakness of my plan.

  Flung my legs up so that they wrapped around the wheel. Moved my body so that I was now sitting on the wheel, which sounds easy, but wasn’t. Thankfully, no one was around to hear my grunting. Holding onto the leg as tightly as possible, maneuvered myself so that my feet were on top of the wheel. Did this all at hyperspeed but it took longer than I liked because of how precarious my position was.

  Finally managed to get where I wanted to be. Chose to not think about this at all and leaned out for the pylon holding the missiles. It was closer in this position than it had appeared when I was hanging off the wheel, so had that going for me.

  Didn’t spend time marveling and instead climbed up the pylon to get onto the wing. Had to hold on because the wind resistance was incredible, with gusts coming from all directions.

  My music changed to Pink’s “Blow Me (One Last Kiss).” Considered what Algar might be trying to tell me. Was in a good enough position so, left hand clamped onto the wing, reached into my purse. And came out with what certainly looked like a bomb that attached to metal.

  Chose to say “thank you” in my head and slammed the sticky bomb onto the side of the chopper. The timer was set for fifteen seconds. Hit the green button and saw the counter go down to fourteen. Time to go.

  Let myself slide off the back of the wing so I’d fall straight down and not risk getting sliced by any of the blades, main or tail.

  However, this meant I was plummeting straight down. Tried to turn around in the air but couldn’t manage it. Had a great view of the rest of the aerial fighting. Our side appeared to be winning, with choppers on the ground or blown up. Winced in anticipation of slamming into the ground or, if I was really lucky, another Turleen.

  Did hit, but not the ground or a Space Turtle. I hit a pair of strong arms.

  “Oof!” Jeff said as he hugged me.

  Looked up. “The chopper’s above us and it’s going to blow really, really soon.”

  Jeff didn’t question—instead he ran us out of range. Just in time, as the chopper exploded and debris once again fell out of the sky.

  “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not thrilled to see you and relive some of our nostalgic moments and all that.” We were far enough away, so took off my goggles and gloves and dropped them back into my purse.

  “I’m here because, as usual, I didn’t want to watch my wife die. I know it’s a terrible failing, but I’ve learned to live with it.”

  He didn’t put me down but flipped me so that he was holding me. Wrapped my legs around his waist. “Seems like old times. And they let you out of the meeting, let alone the complex?”

  Jeff rolled his eyes. “Just who do you think could have stopped me?”

  “Good point.” Hugged him tightly as I turned off my music, just to be polite to my heroic husband and all. “It’s great to see you. I’d totally make out right now because, as always, you saving me from going splat is a total turn-on, but we have an attack we need to ensure is over.”

  “That’s what the armed forces are for.” And with that, Jeff kissed me, hard. Kissed him right back, because who was I to argue with the Leader of the Free World?

  To his credit, Jeff ended our kiss sooner as opposed to later, but not so soon that I wasn’t ready to go for it right here. He looked more than a little smug about this, which was amusing in that I was pretty much always ready to go for it with him. But it was nice to know that he never took that for granted.

  “Who else is here? I saw a bunch of bodies that one of the missiles was aimed for. And was anyone hit or hurt?”

  “Chuck, Lorraine, Claudia, Christopher, and Serene came over with me, along with far too many Secret Service agents and about a dozen Field agents. No one was hurt, but only because we’d assigned Field teams to the Secret Service.”

  “I thought Christopher and Serene were handling media stuff.”

  “They decided helping everyone save the First Lady’s life and the lives of everyone at Caliente Base took precedence.”

  “No need to sound so snippy, I wasn’t complaining that they were here.” Looked around. “Where is everyone?”

  “Christopher is confirming that Caliente Base is cleared out. I sent Chuck and Serene off to ensure that law enforcement keeps people away from here, and they’re also wrangling the Secret Service. Lorraine and Claudia are handling the ones who refused to leave the area. In other words, the main details for you and me.”

  “They’re doing their best.”

  Jeff sighed. “I know. I think we need to assign A-Cs to those positions, though. Because no human Secret Service agent can do what the greenest Field agent can.”

  “I could. Tim and James could, too. Don’t sell them short. Maybe we should train them like we train our human agents instead of trying to circumvent them all the time.”

  “This from the woman who pointedly circumvents everyone all the time?”

  “Blah, blah, blah, I just know their hearts are in the right place and I don’t want to just dump them from their life’s work because we’re faster than they are.”

  “I don’t want to fire anyone. It may not matter soon, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The world is about to change, baby. Speaking of which, how do we get your newest friends to regroup over here?”

  “Sadly, I have no idea. Put me down, would you?”

  “If I must.”

  “You must.” Jeff complied and I waved my arms. “Muddy! Lily! Other Turleens. Come to Kitty!”

  “You talk to them like you talk to the Poofs and Peregrines?”

  “Um, no, only just now.” Had a thought. “Poofs Assemble!”

  Several Poofs including Harlie, the Head Poof, Poofikins, which was my official Poof, and Murphy, which was Jeff’s Poof, who he pretended
wasn’t his special favorite with absolutely no success. They all purred at me.

  “Kitty appreciates your support. Are you able to help me get the nice Space Turtles to disengage from the enemy? As fast as possible?”

  Harlie mewed, then the Poofs disappeared. Sent a text to Lorraine telling her roughly where we were.

  “What are they doing?” Jeff asked.

  “I have no idea. I just hope whatever it is works.” Whatever it was did. The Turleens broke off and zoomed to where Jeff and I were standing. We were surrounded by little dirigibles in moments. Noted that several of the dirigibles had a Poof riding on them.

  Lorraine, Claudia, Evalyne, Phoebe, and the first and second in command of Jeff’s Secret Service detail, Joseph and Rob, arrived at the same time.

  “Poofs rock. Muddy, are you there?”

  A dirigible near to us changed into Muddy and the Poofs bounded over and into my purse. Muddy bowed to Jeff. “It is an honor to meet the King of the World.”

  Jeff groaned. “Please don’t call me that in front of anyone else.”

  “We’ll work on that later.” Did fast introductions for Joseph and Rob. “Muddy, I want to get the Turleens to safety.”

  “We are safe here, and will not desert the King and Queen of the World, or their retainers.”

  “Why is he insisting on calling us that?” Jeff asked me.

  “Haven’t had time to ponder that, Jeff. We’ve been busy.” Though I was certain that Muddy had a reason for it, because I was also certain that Muddy did not, for one moment, actually believe that Jeff and I were the king and queen of anything.

  “Yes. Why were you up on that helicopter?”

  “Which one are you referring to?”

  “You were on more than one?” Jeff sounded ready to pop a vessel. Evalyne and Phoebe merely exchanged long-suffering looks.

  “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. And I’d like to point out that this entire situation is also not my fault.”

  “It’s never your fault. Look, we need to get everyone out of here. Airborne will handle the cleanup.”