by Gini Koch
We didn’t have a large crowd but there were people milling about, some of whom seemed very excited to see us, or at least Armstrong and Jeff. Those two started shaking hands, giving out hugs, and taking selfies with various people almost immediately.
No one seemed to spot me, and Elaine wasn’t being bothered either, so I figured we weren’t going to be doing the Wives’ Show Of Support Bit right now.
Spent the time, therefore, looking around. Not only to see the station, but to see if there was anyone lurking somewhere. A group of assassins out of prison made me nervous for some strange reason.
But, look though I did, I didn’t spot anyone who looked familiar, threatening, or was where they shouldn’t be.
Got dragged over to shake some paws, which I did. No one asked why I was dressed casually and I didn’t offer any explanations, either. Just figured that someone would take a picture, post it, and then all the social media outlets would have a field day. It kept them occupied and off the streets, so whatever.
There were a couple reporters there, but they seemed far more excited that the President and VP both were there than anything else. Lots of pictures, professional and otherwise, were taken, but this wasn’t a surprise—Jeff sort of drew the camera’s attention naturally. Being the hottest thing on two legs tended to garner that response.
I wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on things, of course. The Secret Service were doing a good showing of standing around looking quietly menacing. Plus Alpha Team was here and, though Gower and White were both still on the train, Reader, Tim, Lorraine, and Claudia were all out and keeping an eye on things. Several of the A-C agents were zipping around at hyperspeed checking everything in the vicinity.
Christopher was also out and ready. He’d done a perimeter search before the others, and was waiting for any projectile of any kind to get tossed toward any of us, himself included.
We were all dressed up with nothing to fight, though. Didn’t know whether to be relieved or let down. Tried for relieved.
Didn’t spot any of the agents Mom had said would be here, but presumably that was because they were hidden or hiding in plain sight. Did spot the light rain when it started, which gave us all a reason to end things here.
Uneventful stop at Richmond over, it was back on the train and off to Petersburg. No one bothered with the War Room this time—we all congregated in the dining car or the caboose, depending. We barely had time to sit and sip a beverage and then we were there.
Petersburg’s station was much plainer, though still nice. And, as with Richmond, while there were some people there, there weren’t a lot of them, and no one was lurking about.
Once again we got out, did some waving, took some pictures, talked to some people, shook some paws, got slightly wet, and got back into the train. So far, no one had cared how I was dressed.
With two stops in the win column, we were feeling pretty good when we got back into the train cars. Well, most of us were feeling pretty good. Armstrong, Ariel, and Strauss were all feeling crappy. Felt bad for Armstrong and Ariel.
Tito waited until everyone was back inside, then he cornered the three of them. “You’re all sick, and you’re all trying to pretend you’re not. I’m watching you get sicker by the minute. All of you need to go back to your quarters and get some rest, you especially, Mister President.”
They started to argue, but Elaine stepped in. “Doctor Hernandez is right. Vince, you look ready to drop, and Monica, you’re not doing much better. Ariel, let’s not let you get as bad as these two, okay? All of you, let’s head for our car and let the doctor do his work. Rocky Mount is our next stop and that gives everyone a good two hours or so of rest.”
Strauss and Ariel looked like they were going to continue to protest, but Armstrong nodded. “You’re both right.” He gave the other two a weak smile. “Let’s get that rest.”
Everyone in the President’s car headed off and Tito went with them. Told Manfred and the rest of my A-C detail to go with Mom, which they did. Some others wandered toward their cars, but most of us stayed in the main dining car. Chuckie watched them go, eyes narrowed.
“What?” I asked him quietly.
“Could be nothing.”
“It usually isn’t.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just wondering who else is sick.” He shook himself. “I’m going to make some calls, Kitty. I’ll be back.” Chuckie strode off toward the front of the train.
Jeff and Raj were having a quiet discussion and I joined them. It turned out they were discussing policy. I kissed Jeff and quickly left them alone.
For whatever reason, I didn’t feel like chatting with anyone, so headed for the more private dining car, where I found White and Gower with the requisite Secret Service and A-C guards. Couldn’t complain—my shadows were with me, too.
Joined them for drinks and snacks, while I indicated that Len, Kyle, Evalyne, and Phoebe should all take a load off, too, which they did, albeit unwillingly. Lincoln bustled over to get our orders. I did love the food options on the train.
“Guys, slavish devotion to duty is great, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from hanging with these guys,” indicated White and Gower, “it’s to take the rest times when you find them.”
White chuckled. “Good to know you’ve picked something up, Missus Martini.”
“You thinking it’s going to be action time soon?”
Gower sighed. “No guess, honestly. I’m relieved nothing’s happened so far. However, the smart money says that’s not going to last.”
We had a light tea service, which was very nice. You’d never have known that I’d eaten not too long ago. I was hungry again. Oh well, I didn’t want anyone working on the train to think I wasn’t appreciative of their efforts, after all.
“You pregnant again?” Gower asked me as I ate my third scone.
“Not that I know of, why?”
“You’re eating a lot.”
“She always does when action looms,” White pointed out. “I believe it’s due to her enhanced metabolism.”
“Aren’t you sweet? No, it’s because I really like food. But, yeah, I expect to work this off somewhere in the near future, Paul, thanks for the concern.”
He grinned. “Just wanted to make sure we shouldn’t be sidelining you for an important reason.”
Raj came through on his way to see if Ariel was awake or not, and he stopped to chat with us about the likelihood that there was some new danger looming that the Alpha Centauri system wanted our help with.
More stress we couldn’t do anything about done, Raj headed off for Rail Force One and I decided all the talk of naps along with tea and scones had made me sleepy, so I excused myself and headed for our car, Len, Kyle, Evalyne and Phoebe naturally going with me. Of course, the idea of napping with four people watching over me like I was the oldest kid in daycare wasn’t that appealing.
Make that six people. Got into my car to find Buchanan and Chuckie there. They both looked a little stressed, but as soon as we arrived Chuckie took off, after telling me to have a good nap.
So, I settled into one of the comfy chairs we had and sort of dozed. For about five minutes.
Pulled out my earbuds and my iPod. Sure, my phone had all my music in it, too, and my earphones were able to answer calls, too, but I was still emotionally attached to my iPod. But I might not hear my phone if it rang, and considering my children were basically home alone without me, I didn’t think that was a good idea.
Kyle came over. “Hey, I made a playlist for you,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed. Kyle ran my iPod whenever I wasn’t in charge of the sound system, and he controlled the music in the limos and the Embassy for the most part, too, since he was clear on what I liked.
“Really? That’s very sweet of you.”
He grinned. “Just seemed like you were going to need someth
ing special.” He took my phone and fiddled with it along with his. “There, it’s sent, and set up.”
“Modern technology is the greatest. By the way, are you insinuating I should be listening to tunes now?”
He shrugged. “It relaxes you and you can still pay attention even if you have earbuds in. So, yeah.”
“And this is why you’re my favorite.”
Did as Kyle suggested, dropped my iPod back into my purse, and plugged my earbuds into my phone. Sure, it wasn’t my normal thing, but I could adapt and get with the new ways. And this way, I wasn’t going to be a terrible mother and miss any important calls or texts while I, hopefully, fell asleep so as to dream through the boredom that this trip was becoming.
Kyle had created a Trains, Planes, and Automobiles playlist for me. Made sure the volume was low, hit play, and let the music start.
Heard exactly six bars of UB40’s “She Caught the Train” when my phone rang. Always the way.
And, in keeping with how my life rolled, the number was blocked.
CHAPTER 38
APPARENTLY USING the phone instead of the iPod had been the way to go. Answered, using my nifty earbuds’ call answer thingy, which I was sure was the technical term. “Hello?”
There was no sound on the other end.
Gave it another go, just in case this was a telemarketer. “Hello? We probably don’t want any, whatever it is.”
Still no sound.
Contemplated the options. Hung up. And the music started right back up. I was impressed—the music had put itself on hold, so I wasn’t missing a thing sonically. One for the win column. Sure, it was a small, almost insignificant one, but I’d learned a long time ago to take whatever wins I could get and treasure them.
Stood up and turned to Buchanan and the boys, who were all looking at me while I slid my phone into my front pocket and put my purse over my neck. “Expect imminent attack imminently.” Sent a mental message to Bruno and Ginger and any Poofs who might be listening in on the Kitty Channel.
“From whom and where?” Buchanan asked.
“Blocked number just called with no one on the other end. The last time that happened I almost died.” The last time that had happened, frankly, had been at the end of Operation Drug Addict, and the person on the other end of the line had been Leventhal Reid, using GPS to find where I was.
Sure, the Ronald Yates/Mephistopheles in-control superbeing had been bad. Sure LaRue Demorte Gaultier was, as it turned out, an Ancient, a shape-shifting alien bent on working with her own race’s mortal enemies, and ours, the Z’porrah. And sure, Cliff Goodman was the Mastermind. And there was a long list of other evil baddies we’d faced and some we’d face again.
But there was no one, on any planet so far, who personified evil in the way that Leventhal Reid did. He was like a human snake, the venomous kind, and I was terrified of snakes.
“I have no idea from whom, but I have a guess. As for where, wherever my phone signal is, is my best guess.”
The door opened and Jeff came running in. “Whatever blocker Monica has on, it isn’t blocking anyone other than her. What’s wrong? Where is he?”
“He who?” Evalyne asked.
“Leventhal Reid,” Jeff snarled.
“He’s dead,” Phoebe reminded him as Joseph and Rob ran in. Clearly Jeff had used hyperspeed to get to me and they’d just taken good guesses at to where he’d gone. “I realize you feel there’s at least one clone of him around, but from what you’ve told us, that clone would still be an adolescent.”
“No. Those clones were on the fast-aging plan. Reid could be my age now. Frankly, he could even be older. And that might not have been him. But I think it was someone trying to get a position on where we are.”
No sooner said than I heard the distinct thump of something—or, more likely, someone—landing on our roof. And then another. And another.
Jeff and I looked at each other. Then took off running. At hyperspeed, of course.
The War Room car doubled as the safe house for the train. But Armstrong and Elaine, and my mother, were in Rail Force One, not in the War Room.
Jeff and I were headed for the same car, and we slammed through the War Room like it wasn’t even there and were in the President’s car in less than a second. Which was good, because I heard more thumps on the roof. Had a really good guess for who was hitching a ride on this train, and it wasn’t hobos.
We got there in time to hear Evalyne shouting over the walkie-talkie. “Get Slick and Sophistication into the War Room, STAT!”
Oh, sure, this wasn’t really direction being given to me and Jeff, but since we were there already, we grabbed them and anyone around them—which meant Jeff had Armstrong and Tito, who had the presence of mind to grab both his medical bag and Ariel, and I had Elaine and Mom, who grabbed Strauss—and took off.
Heard Raj shout to have everyone link hands, and he and the rest of the A-Cs were right behind us with the rest who’s been in or around the President, including Grady, who was the President’s steward.
Raj slammed the forward door shut and hit the special locking mechanism. No one was getting in from that side without a blowtorch and several months of time or a gigantic bomb. Sadly, I figured our enemies had Plan B on their persons.
As he did so, those who’d been in our car came running in, Len dragging Javier behind him, Kyle shooing the private dining car’s staff ahead of him.
Knew what was going to happen if we let it. The Secret Service, the boys, and Buchanan were all going to try to keep me and Jeff in this car. But there were people on this train, all of them included, who didn’t have the skills, the talents, the experience, and most importantly, the fast healing regeneration that Jeff and I did.
We might be able to get all of the civilians in here in time—we had enough A-Cs here to do it. But, when it came down to it, in this situation, we really only had one goal—to keep the President safe.
“You’re both staying here now,” Buchanan said to me and Jeff, right on cue. “Lock it down,” he told Joseph, who was nearest to the door. And Joseph leaped to do just that.
Jeff grabbed my hand and we took off, though we stopped at the edge of the dining car. The door slammed behind us and the locking mechanism clicked in. “Boy, are they going to be pissed at us.”
Jeff grinned. “Let’s ensure that we stay alive and unharmed then, baby.”
“Thanks for not trying to make me stay there, by the way.”
“And the same to you. I just know you too well and I didn’t want to have to hear about it for the rest of my life.”
“Freedom Train” by Lenny Kravitz came on and I realized we’d really moved fast, which was the idea. “Figure it’s the Crazy Eights on the roofs.” Paused the music and listened. Didn’t hear any more footsteps. Started the music up again. “They’re going to spread out some of them, concentrate some of them on the War Room, and someone’s going to go to the front of the train. All of them are killers and most of them are hybrids.”
“It’s never easy, is it, baby?”
“Or, as we call it, routine.”
CHAPTER 39
“WE NEED TO GET the civilians into some form of safety,” I told Jeff as we headed for our car. I had an ocellar and a Peregrine to pick up.
Only the animals weren’t in our car. Before I could fret about this, though, we had something else to occupy our attention—one of the Crazy Eights was coming in from the back of the car, impressive gun at the ready.
It was Nerida Alfero, the water-bending chick. There wasn’t a lot of water around. Felt fairly confident I could take her.
Did my best to send Jeff a mental message that we had to get the civilians protected in some way, keep Gower safe, and the rest of our people mobilized, and he’d be better at doing that than I would. Plus Jeff might have some issues hitting a woman, and I had less than no
ne.
Of course, I had to clear the path for him. So, you know, I charged. And as I did, my music changed to “Prize Fighter” by the Killers. Had to guess this wasn’t on the playlist Kyle had created, meaning I was now on the Algar Channel. Worked for me.
She started shooting, but I was, by now, seriously pissed, and the skills always worked better when I was channeling She-Hulk. Dodged the bullets that looked like very slow-moving pebbles, slammed into her, and wrenched the gun away from her. Tossed it to Jeff as he took off as mentally requested. We were a well-oiled politically incorrect team.
You’d think that someone who’d been rotting in the deepest supermax prison the government had would be out of shape. Apparently she was on the Thug Life Workout Plan, because chick had learned some moves.
We were doing some impressive hand-to-hand fighting. But it didn’t stop her from talking. “We’re here to end you murdering scum.” She threw a right, I blocked it, and punched her in the stomach.
“Hypocrite much? You’re all about being murdering scum.” Hey, if it was a Talk While You Kick Ass fight, I was damned well going to represent. Tried to sweep her legs but she jumped out of the way.
“You killed my family.” She landed and tried for a groin shot. I did a backward somersault.
“This again? No, I didn’t, and anyway, they’re no more or less your family than other people on this train.” She was charging but I stayed down and did an upward kick as she got near. She flew back but landed on her feet. “And we had this discussion before. As I recall, you lost. Big time.”
She smirked. “There’s losing that’s not really losing, you know.” She did a rather impressive leaping scissors-kick. But I could tell she’d only done this in practice, never in real combat, because all I did was step out of the way, so all she crashed into was the dining table in our car.
Time to keep her talking, apparently, especially while she was struggling out of the table wreckage. Decided to play it smart and not charge in, in case she grabbed a table leg or something. “Sure there is. And then there’s losing and really losing, like you and the other Crazy Eights are going to experience. Again, I might add.”
