Universal Alien

by Gini Koch

  Cox brought my purse over. “I would, ma’am, but I listened to you.”

  “How did you know?” Cantu asked. “This was realistic enough to fool men who’ve been in war.”

  “I kind of know this particular bad guy’s playbook. Not all of it, mind you, but some of it.” Enough of it to know that we’d just begun the gauntlet.

  The others joined me, and as Stripes jumped onto my shoulder and the last commando crossed the threshold, a grate dropped from the doorway. The commandos tried to move it, but it wasn’t budging.

  Went over and pulled. “Alfred, need you.” He came over and together we were able to rip the grate off. Tossed it to the side and turned around to see the commandos and Cantu staring at us openmouthed. “These suits are da bomb. Speaking of bombs, expect anything and everything a Bond villain might throw at us to be here in some way, shape, or form.”

  “Are you sure?” Alfred asked me.

  “Dude, did you not just see that grate drop after, and only after, the last person who was on the walkway walked through the doorway? That means the concrete has some kind of pressure plates or they’re observing us now, since our friends The Battle-Experienced Commandos alerted whoever to the fact that we’re here.”

  “But Harlie found no one,” Alfred said quietly.

  “Yeah, well, your Poof is not trained like my Poofs. I didn’t tell Harlie to look underground.” And with Algar’s Free Will Manifesto having been drilled into them, had to figure that the Poof wasn’t necessarily as clear on what to look for and share as mine. Also, the Poofs tended to be really picky about specifics.

  Alfred looked around. “Where do we go from here? This just looks like a round room.”

  It did. A very bland, very nothing round room. There was nothing on the concrete floor, nothing on the concrete walls other than the sound equipment by the doorway, and the only thing in the room was the projector, which was behind a small, curved, concrete sorta-wall that was only about waist high on me. However, there had been a lot of effort put into making this room, so I really doubted that it was the dead end it appeared to be.

  “Let’s start tapping the walls,” I said to the room in general. “There’s a secret door around here somewhere. Could be in the floor, too.”

  The commandos just stared at me. Decided I didn’t like them. At all.

  Went over to Cantu. “Okay, your guys just let our enemy know we’re coming. I’m giving you this opportunity to let me lead the team.”

  The commandos snorted or muttered. Clearly they weren’t open to a woman being in charge, or else they somehow thought they hadn’t mishandled the situation.

  Cantu picked it up, not that it was hard to miss. “Let’s check for secret doors in the walls and floors.” The commandos instantly started tapping on things. Decided I might just have to hate them.

  Cantu took my elbow and moved me away from his team. “Clearly you know what’s going on, but these men aren’t going to listen to you. I’d suggest you go over what you want to do with me, and I’ll pass it along in a way they’ll understand.”

  “They speak English, so that means they understand me. You mean they want their instructions coming from someone with a penis. And yeah, um, no. That doesn’t work for me, because we’re heading into a very dangerous situation and I’d like to ensure that my team and I get out of it alive. And leadership by committee surely doesn’t work, and you’re not actually my boss, so you can’t get away with this particular glass ceiling. By the way, I assume my husband, children, and friends are already hostages, and I really don’t want them harmed, either.”

  “So you think that Charles called me under duress?”

  “I don’t think, I know. He and the others had no idea this was Cliff Goodman’s hideout—if they’d known, they’d have already handled this. Better than your commandos, by the way. The only way he could have told you to come here was if he was told where to tell you to come.”

  Cantu looked pissed. “That’s why you wanted to know what he said, exactly. You were trying to figure out if he was passing along some kind of clue or warning to me.”

  “He was. He sounded scared and stressed. Charles doesn’t do scared or stressed.” Unless some bastard had a gun to his children’s heads, which is what I figured was going on. “And if you were his boss, you should know that.”

  Cantu sighed. “I am his boss. And I’ll give you that I should have noticed. I was just . . .” He shrugged and looked embarrassed. “I was just worried about my team and excited that I had a solid lead. I didn’t pay attention.”

  “Right. Like you didn’t pay attention at the doorway.”

  “It was very realistic gunfire. Very much like at the Farm.”

  “True.” The Farm was the C.I.A.’s training center. Had to figure that if I’d been discussing this situation with Chuckie, Reader, or Buchanan, none of them would have compared what was going on to their training camp. In part because their time in training camp would have been years ago, and they’d certainly seen a lot more action since then.

  Looked at how Cantu was dressed. Unlike the commandos, he was in a suit and nice shoes. The infrared goggles looked completely out of place on his head. And, as I looked around the room, Cantu looked completely out of place here.

  I was so used to working with highly trained and efficient people who literally lived to be in suits that it hadn’t dawned on me until this exact moment that Cantu was dressed completely inappropriately for bringing down a drug lord or an Evil Mastermind. He was dressed to take a meeting.

  Internal Affairs tended not to be out in the field—they were the investigative branch, but that meant they spent most of their time investigating their own people, usually through paper trails and such.

  Basically, Cantu was a desk jockey, hoping to bring down the Mole of Moles. In other words, he was the last guy who should be leading this team, and also likely the first one who was going to die. He wasn’t James Bond or another Double-O—Chuckie, Reader, and Buchanan fit those positions. He wasn’t even Q or M. He was the guy who Bond, Q, and M ignored until the day was saved and Her Majesty’s Secret Service was back on top.

  And he was the boss of the three men I was trying to save, and the only one who was going to be believed if things got as hairy as I knew they were going to.

  Alfred chose this moment to call me over; Cox was already with him. I dutifully trotted over, reminding myself that, so far, pop culture had never let me down. Alfred had his mask off and was holding something that looked like a cell phone with some extras. “What do you have there, Q?”

  Alfred beamed. “I do love those books and movies, Double-O-Seven.”

  “Glad to oblige and even gladder that you’re not a sexist idiot.”

  “Does that make me Moneypenny, ma’am?”

  “Works for me, Bill.” Stripes meowed. “Stripes says that to him I’ll always be Catwoman. I’m good with that, too. Now that the superspy and superhero names are all set, what’s up and in your hand?” Looked a little closer. “And where did you score that duffel bag?”

  “I ran back to the speeders and got more equipment. I figure we’re going to need it. This is an advanced smartphone with extended reach capabilities—it can send and receive through metal and concrete—a three-D printer, and several other very useful programs. I’m scanning the rocks to see if I can spot the door or doors. I have to have my mask off to see the data on this screen, though—just one of those things I haven’t perfected yet. By the way, I also did a search and it’s not good on the Israelis,” Alfred added in a low voice. “Their embassy was attacked early this morning—from what I can tell, just an hour or so after you’d left.”

  I’d been expecting this. But it didn’t make my stomach clench any less. “Are they listing casualties?”

  “Not yet.”

  “We know your husband’s alive,” Cox said. “And I have t
o figure your kids are, too. Probably the others as well. No reason to tell Cantu to come down here if they’re all dead—why help out your enemy in that way?”

  “I agree, Lunatic Lad. I’m certain Cliff has some of them—hopefully all of them. But saving them is going to be harder because of who we’re stuck working with.”

  “Those are paid commandos,” Cox said derisively.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Heard them talking. They don’t think they were paid enough to, and I quote, ‘have to listen to some chick carting around some weird cat who thinks she knows what she’s doing.’ Needless to say, I’m not impressed.”

  “Charming. But I think I know how to handle them. So, Alfred-Q, what’s the status on how we get out of this room and move on?”

  “Interesting.” He went over to the only thing in this room—the curved little wall. “I’m positive there’s a mechanism of some kind in this. But I can’t see how to trigger it.”

  “And I already checked this area, and I couldn’t find anything,” Cox said.

  The commandos were done and complaining that there were no doors and that this was a colossal waste of time. Cantu wasn’t telling them to shut up and stop whining. Figured I was going to have to get tough and soon. But first, time to test a theory.

  “Everyone, be ready to move.”

  Then I lifted up the projector.

  CHAPTER 70

  CONVENIENTLY, my team was with me, so when the curved wall and its surrounding floor started to move, both men grabbed one of my arms, just in case. Our part of the floor started to sink as we turned, thankfully slowly, in a clockwise direction.

  “Better hurry up and come along if you’re coming,” I called to Cantu. Figured the commandos could do whatever.

  “Follow them!” Cantu barked, as he trotted over and jumped down to join us. Cox caught and steadied him.

  The commandos followed, but none of my team bothered to try to steady them. A couple of them bounced off the wall, but no one seemed hurt.

  “How did you know?” Cantu asked.

  “When all other options have been eliminated, the last choice, no matter how bizarre or right out of the movies it may seem, is the only option. Plus, I have a rule—I always go with the crazy. So far, it’s never let me down.” Handed the projector to Cox. “I think if we put that down we go back up.” He nodded.

  Turned to the nearest commando. “So, I understand you boys don’t like following a female leader.”

  “No offense,” he said, with offense definitely in his tone.

  “Huh. You have some big guns and such there. Can I hold one?”

  He sniggered, pulled a weapon I knew to be extremely heavy, and handed it to me. “Sure.”

  “Awesome.” Took the gun without any issue. All the commandos looked shocked. “Yeah, I’m a lot stronger than I look. And you’re a bunch of misogynistic assholes.” Slammed the butt of this gun into the commando’s stomach. He buckled. Held the gun in my right hand, grabbed him by his throat with my left hand, and practiced Commando Bowling by tossing him at his buddies as hard as I possibly could.

  “Wow, got a strike. Left handed, too. I’ve still got it.”

  “Uh, why did you do that?” Cantu asked nervously.

  Considered my options. Pulled off my mask and shot him a look I hoped was channeling Mom’s most intimidating stare. My hair looking crazy bad could, in this instance, only help. Based on the way Cantu backed up, it worked.

  “Because I am in charge and every asshole on this platform had better accept that, right now, or I’m going to beat the crap out of them and throw them up into that room we were just in, so that they don’t endanger me and my far more awesome team. Capisce?”

  The commandos nodded as they slowly got to their feet. “You take that suit off and try to tell us what to do,” the one whose gun I had muttered.

  Went over to him. “I would, but I’m not as stupid as you.” Used my fist to give him an uppercut. He went down and out. “My team, strip him of all his gear. Do it fast.”

  The other commandos looked like they wanted to intervene. Pointed the big gun at them. “Try me. I’m pissed, and you’re not my boys. Frankly, you’re hired guns, meaning that the next person to offer you more money gets your loyalty. I have no idea what the C.I.A.’s paying these days, but I’ll just bet it’s not what a Bond Villain can cough up.”

  Missed Jeff something fierce. He’d have been able to tell what these guys were feeling and know if their entire plan was to get Cantu inside, hand him over to Cliff, and then take a bigger payday.

  However, having spent the last several years with people who truly could not lie, I’d gotten exceptionally adept at spotting signs and tells—hanging with A-Cs was a master class in this, and considering how often the people around me passed little signs back and forth, I was an expert at spotting the most minute of reactions. And all the signs and tells were there. I’d hit their nail right on their heads—they were planning to turn as fast as the money came in.

  “All done,” Alfred said.

  It wasn’t a large room, and my guys were near the commandos. Literally right on cue four of them grabbed Cox and Alfred.

  “Now, let’s talk,” the fifth one said, as he produced a gun and pointed it at me.

  “Oh, blah, blah, blah. Let’s not and say we did, okay?” I was mad as hell, and just wasn’t going to take it anymore.

  Stripes was pissed, too. He leaped for the commando’s face while I hit the forearm holding the gun down and away. Felt and heard the satisfactory sound of bone breaking. As Stripes landed, I slammed my foot up and into the guy’s groin. As he crumpled, cat still going to town, I tossed my big gun up in the air, jumped up to grab the faces of the two commandos holding Cox, and slammed them back into the wall, hard. As they both went down, did the same with the two holding Alfred. Caught the gun as it came down and pointed it at the guy Stripes was mauling.

  “Good kitty, come to Mommy.” Stripes hissed one last time, then jumped back onto my shoulder. “Yo, dude, I want some answers, and I want them now.” He groaned. I stepped on his foot. Hard. He yelped. “There we go. Who are you working for?”

  “No one,” he managed. “I mean, we’re working for him,” he nodded toward Cantu, “but we were going to see if the drug lord was open to paying us more.”

  Looked at Cantu. “You told them you were after a drug lord?”

  He nodded. “I had to go outside of the Agency because I truly don’t know who we can trust anymore. It’s easier to get mercenaries to go after drug lords than Agency moles.”

  “My God. You know, when this is over, you really need to have a session with Charles, James, and Malcolm, especially Malcolm, wherein you spend a lot of time listening and learning and they spend a lot of time telling you how to actually survive in the field.” Turned to Alfred. “You have zip ties and duct tape in your bag of Q Tricks?”

  He nodded proudly. “I do. Duct tape is the best thing this planet has ever invented.”

  “Really, that’s not one of yours?”

  “No, but it’s one of my favorite things.” He produced a big role of tape and a handful of zip ties.

  “You rock. Okay, my boys, strip ’em and tie ’em up. I want them all down to their skivvies and said skivvies searched. These are people I’m generously not going to kill,” looked at my lone conscious commando, “though I really want to, but we don’t want them having a hope of getting free.”

  Alfred did the stripping at hyperspeed, Cox did the tying up. Being the Sidekick, he also got stuck with the Skivvy Check, but since he was still wearing his weird mask, I couldn’t see his expression. His reactions said that this was potentially the most unpleasant thing he’d had to do in a long time. Probably was.

  “Alfred, am I right in that you want to keep your mask off to see what’s on your Screen O’ Wonder?�
��

  “Yes but, under the circumstances, I think I’ll put it on just in case.”

  “Wise man.” Put my mask back on as well. “Esteban, you’re kind of screwed in the protective department. However, we now have a lot of Kevlar for you to choose from. Find the stuff that fits you the best and put it on. Now. Oh, and that’s an order, not a suggestion.”

  Proving he was far smarter than his hired muscle, Cantu did as requested. He found a vest and got it on just as the slowest hidden elevator in the world stopped moving. Had a feeling all of this was setup so that Cliff could have his killer sharks with lasers all primed and ready.

  But instead, what we were treated to was another hallway. This one had a light at the end. Figured it was going to be a freight train. “Okay, Esteban, if they have Kevlar pants, you want those as well.”

  “Just the vests,” Cox shared. “What do we do with all their weapons?”

  “Carry what we can, empty all chambers, take any extra ammo with us.”

  “I can carry it,” Alfred said to Cox. “I have room in my bag.”

  “It’s going to be pretty heavy,” Cox said uncertainly.

  “I’ll let you know if it’s too much for me,” Alfred replied.

  “Take any and all knives, because I truly don’t want these guys getting free.” Picked up the projector from where Cox had put it down and examined it. Looked like a regular projector. Put it in the doorway so that, should this elevator try to go up, we’d at least have a shot of hearing the projector get destroyed as an early alert.

  Cox handed me a plethora of knives. “I have all I can carry and Alfred’s bag is full.”

  “Wow, Esteban, at least you’re getting your money’s worth in terms of weaponry.” Stashed the knives in my purse. I still had the big gun because I liked it. Maybe I’d even fire it, though I was enjoying using it as a blunt instrument.

  “So,” Cantu said, “what do we do now?”