Alien in Chief

by Gini Koch

  “Good point.”

  “So, are you coming with me, then? No extradition from Cuba. We can live there like a king and queen.”

  “Oh, you know how it is. I don’t want to ruin whatever weird relationship you and whatever clone version of LaRue is flying the chopper happen to have this week. And while it’d be just loads of fun to reunite with Leventhal Reid, I’m going to pass.”

  “Suit yourself. You’re choosing to die, you know.”

  “Not really. There is no way on God’s Green Earth you’re getting off this hog and onto the rope ladder with that gun in your hand. And until you’re safely on the ladder and off the bike, Reid isn’t going to shoot.”

  Oh, sure, the moment Cliff was considered safe, then they’d all be shooting at me. But not until then. Slowed the bike down just a bit.

  Cliff didn’t argue, but the gun went away from my temple. “Keep the bike steady,” he said to me as he began to move to stand on the seat.

  “Oh, to be sure.”

  I actually had to keep the bike steady and not let Cliff become roadkill, despite my desire to get a blood sample from him. But other than crashing, I didn’t see any workable options and due to his team being right here, the likelihood that they’d save Cliff before he died on the asphalt was high. The other chopper, the one I really hoped was coming for me, was still too far away. And if I dumped Cliff and managed to keep the bike upright, Reid would fill me full of lead, of that I was certain.

  So, pretending that we were trained stunt people, Cliff shifted and slipped and climbed, and held onto me to keep himself steady and managed to get his feet up on the seat as we reached the chopper with the rope ladder. It was a good thing we were on a nice, heavy Harley, because a crotch rocket would have probably dumped due to the shaking and jerking Cliff was doing to me and the bike.

  Risked it anyway and took my left hand off the handlebars, reached into my purse, and grabbed the hypodermics.

  Cliff grabbed the rope ladder and the moment he did, I slammed the hypos into the part of his body currently closest to me—his butt. Cliff screamed in pain, and Reid pointed his gun right at me. I gunned the bike and swerved under the chopper at the same time, just getting my hand back on the handlebars in time.

  Now I wanted a crotch rocket, because I’d be able to get away faster and more nimbly. But I wasn’t able to change iron horses in midstream, so I just kept the Harley at its top speed and rolled in a serpentine manner toward the other chopper.

  Saw bullets hitting the road in front of and around me. Ignored them. Either I was heading for help or being herded toward an enemy, but stopping was no longer an option. Checked my rearview—Cliff was still on the rope ladder, hypos still in his butt, but he was almost inside. And the chopper was after me, coming up fast.

  Pulled my Glock out of my purse. It wasn’t going to be easy to shoot, let alone left-handed, and steer the bike at the same time, but I was going to have to give it the old Pueblo Caliente try.

  The chopper pulled up next to me, still flying very low. Pointed the Glock at the chopper and did rapid fire.

  Heard a man shout but didn’t look to see if I’d hit anyone. Because the other chopper was closing in on my other side.

  The nice thing about military helicopters was that you could be on either side to get on or off. I cared about this because the chopper I really hoped was coming to save me was flying low on my right, coming at me, while Cliff’s chopper was flying low on my left and going with my flow, so to speak.

  Because there were two choppers now trying to act like commuters on the Beltway, neither one could get all that close to me. This also meant that my Glock probably wasn’t going to have a chance of hitting again. Dumped it back into my purse and happily put my left hand back onto the handlebars.

  More gunfire, but this time no one was shooting at me. Reid was shooting at the other chopper. Said chopper swerved away and, as I caught a glimpse of who was in this chopper, realized why the pilot had swerved to avoid being hit—Jeff was in there.

  So much for him not coming for me. Then again, right now, I was all over him coming for me. We could have the old “you’re the POTUS and need to be careful” chat later.

  Jeff’s chopper swung around and came up fast on my right, but this time going along in the same direction I was.

  A quick check of my rearview shared that there were two guys hanging out of the right hand side—Jeff and Siler. Siler, like Reid, had his arm hooked through the safety strap, had a rifle, and he was shooting at Cliff’s chopper, meaning he was keeping Reid occupied.

  Jeff had hold of another safety strap, but he wasn’t shooting. He was leaning out. Far out.

  The chopper dipped even lower and I figured it was now or never. Jeff reached down for me. “Come on, baby!”

  Stood up, feet still on the pegs. “On three! One . . .” Left foot onto the seat. Technically, this was my starting blocks position—left leg in front, right leg providing the starting power.

  “Two . . .” Left hand off the handlebars. Jeff tried, and so did I, but he couldn’t reach me. Yet.

  “Three!”

  I let go with my right hand and pushed off with my right foot while Jeff leaned really far out, one foot on the skid, holding onto the security strap with one hand and, as the bike fell over and started sliding down the highway, he caught my left wrist. And Siler fired his gun.

  The chopper went up fast and veered to the left. For a long second I thought Jeff was going to lose his hold and I was, if I was really lucky, going to land on the skid and hope like hell to hang on.

  But Jeff didn’t lose his hold and managed to drag me into the belly of the chopper.

  Then he got me into his arms and held me and I buried my face in his chest and we didn’t talk. We just held onto each other for dear life.

  CHAPTER 92

  OUR REUNION WASN’T LONG. Heard a man curse. “They’re going out of range,” Buchanan shouted. “That chopper has more power than we do. Mister President, do we pursue?”

  “No, absolutely not,” Jeff said. “Get us back to the White House. Let Andrews take it from here.”

  Jeff sort of loosened his hold on me and I looked around. Just the three of them in here. “Where’s everyone else?”

  “Probably still trying to tell me that they’re better equipped to rescue my wife than I am.” Jeff hugged me again. “I think you took years off my life with this, baby.”

  “Since we may only have days, I’m not going to feel guilty. How did you get this chopper?”

  “I ran to Andrews,” Jeff said. “With them.” He nodded his head toward Buchanan and Siler. “I may be sick, but I still have hyperspeed.”

  “By the time you were actually on the bike and leaving, Malcolm and I were down on the street level with everyone else.” Siler shrugged. “We knew what your husband was going to do. Malcolm grabbed him as he took off, I caught up, we ran for Andrews, grabbed a chopper, and came after you.”

  “They just had one warmed up and ready for you?”

  “They did,” Siler said, with a glance toward Buchanan. “We called ahead.”

  “Go team.”

  “Thanks. I hit Reid. No idea if it was fatal or not, but he’s hit.”

  “Hurray. And really nice to see you. I thought you weren’t up to action.”

  “Adrenaline’s really great.”

  “Yeah, I think mine’s all used up and then some. It’s weird hearing Malcolm call you Mister President, Jeff.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s worry about that when we’re back on the ground.”

  “How did you find me? Tracking via my other phone?”

  Jeff stared at me. “No. I followed your emotional trail.”

  “Oh. Duh. But I’d have thought your blocks would be up.”

  “Uh, not when my wife was kidnapped by our most bitter enemy, no.”


  “Well, I appreciate your dedication to my safety.”

  “Do you? I’m sure I’m not the only one who can’t tell.”

  “I’m ignoring that. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yeah, actually. Maybe it’s because of the disease. It could be sapping my talent. But even though I can feel all the emotions, they aren’t bothering me as much.”

  It didn’t take us too long to get to the White House. Buchanan set us down on the nice helipad and turned the chopper off. Then he came back to join us. “Missus Executive Chief, let me be the first to ask you to never do anything like that again.”

  “Hey, all of this wasn’t my fault! I didn’t take myself hostage.”

  “It’s never your fault, baby,” Jeff said, as he hugged me again. “But I’m with Buchanan. Let’s not repeat this performance. Ever.”

  “I doubt we’ll need to in the next three days.”

  “I think we have longer,” Siler said. “The Shantanu were really excited about Wruck when I was there.”

  The chopper’s blades slowed down. “We ever getting out of this bird?” I asked Buchanan.

  “Once a security team is here, yes.”

  “Oh my God, really?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly. “Really. But impressive shooting while driving a motorcycle. You hit their chopper and I think you winged Reid.”

  “Then it’s a good day.”

  Secret Service people were literally running toward us. Had to figure we’d just earned the Worst Presidential Couple to Protect Award and didn’t look forward to the tongue lashings.

  Since they were coming, though, Buchanan and Siler got out, then helped Jeff out, who then lifted me out. Jeff kept his arm around me, Siler and Buchanan flanked us, and we headed to meet the Secret Service.

  Evalyne reached us first, grabbed me away from Jeff, and hugged me. “We thought we were going to watch you die.”

  Hugged her back. “Nah. Per someone who would know, I have nine lives.”

  Phoebe grabbed me next. “I’m going to put a tracking anklet on you,” she said as she hugged me and I hugged back.

  “Oh, why make life that dull?”

  The Secret Service got us back inside the White House and into the good old Diplomatic Reception Room, which was packed with people. There were a lot of hugs, a lot of reprimands, and a lot of talking. And then it was time to catch up on what I’d missed while I was racing around with Cliff.

  Pretty much everyone who’d been here the whole time or had been on missions with us was down here, with a few exceptions. While TCC was here, Stephanie wasn’t. She’d hugged him and told him she’d see him again, but then had run off. Because everyone was focused on me and Cliff, she’d been able to escape.

  No one had heard from Rahmi or Rhee, and the flyboys were still considered MIA, as were all those who’d been on assigned security detail at Rocky Mount. Buchanan had gotten one short, cryptic message from Camilla: Staying longer on Spring Break, getting lots of souvenirs.

  The general assumption was that the flyboys and the others were not nearby as previously assumed, but this wasn’t a great comfort, especially to Lorraine and Claudia, who were understandably worried about their husbands, or Tim, who was understandably worried about his team.

  The decision had been made to tell Tito that we hadn’t heard from Rahmi after he’d finished hopefully creating the cure. Not wise to distract one of the guys most likely to save everyone’s life.

  On the other hand, no one had heard from Drax, either, and we still had all of his commandos in custody at Guantanamo, so the expectation was that the sales pitch had been put on hold, due to the change in government. I refused to think the worst, in part because at least I knew the flyboys weren’t infected, so they might outlive the rest of us.

  Abigail was at NASA Base because Tito needed a hybrid to test his vaccine on, and she was looking a little worse than Mahin. Adriana was with her, because he also needed to test the vaccine on a human who was probably infected but wasn’t showing symptoms. Jeff had sent Len and Kyle along with them for protection, as well as all the A-Cs on my security detail. Brian had also gone with them, since he felt he’d been exposed to the virus by now anyway. Justice Quinn had gone as well, giving Tito humans at various stages of exposure to the virus to test the vaccine on.

  Christopher still had the Z’porrah cube and the weird cage that now held it, but I took it from him and put it into my purse. Had a feeling Algar was going to want it.

  “How did Cliff get out of quarantine?” I asked Chuckie.

  “We think he used the Z’porrah cube. One minute he was here, fighting with Jeff, then agreeing to go to NASA Base and give Tito a sample of his blood, the next, we went to look for him and he was gone. Where did you find that cage?”

  “Honestly? I saw the shiny thing and picked it up. It was just the easiest thing at hand to throw at Cliff.” Sort of true, sort of a lie, but he didn’t push it. “I’m sorry they got away.”

  He hugged me. “I’m just relieved you’re still alive and unhurt.”

  “Me too, if you can count us probably dying from the alien flu alive and unhurt.”

  All I really wanted to do was to get home to Jamie and Charlie, and I knew that’s how the others with family in the Embassy or other Safe Zone locations felt, too, but we still weren’t allowed into the Embassy or anywhere else because we were still infected. Unfortunately, the bowling alley had more bodies in it than when I’d left. But, other than two Secret Service agents who’d been on Armstrong’s detail, no one else who’d been in the Sick Suite was among them.

  Mom wasn’t looking great, though. I sat with her and put my arm around her shoulders and let her lean into me. That way we just looked cozy and she wouldn’t look weak in front of her subordinates.

  “Despite the complaints, you did great, kitten. I’m very proud of you.” She sounded exhausted and very sick. Tried to think of a time I’d seen her this ill and came up blank.

  “Thanks, Mom. I just tried to do what you’d do.”

  “You sound tense. Put in your headphones. It’ll relax you, and I’m used to talking to you like that.” Did as she suggested. Hey, when your mother gives you a pass to listen to tunes while you’re talking to her, you take the pass. “James told me about the Dingo and his cousin,” she said as I got my earbuds in and my phone out. “I’m sorry. I know they meant a lot to you.”

  “Yeah, they did. They died to protect me, Mom. The two top assassins in the world died to save me, and yet there are probably more people who think Cliff’s an okay guy than would think they were good people.”

  “It’s all in the perspective, kitten.”

  Our discussion of The Study of Comparative Bad Guys was interrupted by Jeff getting a phone call.

  “Yes? Yes. Yes. Right away. Yes. Good. Thank you. All of you.” He hung up and turned to us. The room went still. “That was Tito. Doctor Hernandez for any who don’t know, who’s in charge of the team working on the cure.”

  “How bad is it?” Tim asked quietly.

  “They just gave the vaccine to Manfred, Abigail, Len, Caroline, Adriana, Brian, and a Field team from Sydney Base who were not exposed to the virus, along with a human astronaut who was also not exposed.”

  The room was so quiet you could hear a Poof walking. Couldn’t take the pressure and hit play. “Far Too Young To Die” by Panic! At the Disco came on. So much for music relaxing me—this was a song about the death of loved ones.

  Jeff grinned. “Those who had the virus are showing immediate signs of recovery. Those who were not showing symptoms or who had no exposure to the virus are showing signs that the vaccine is working as it should, as a preventative and a protection. The vaccine is being replicated at NASA Base, the Dulce Science Center, and Caliente Base. We should have enough to supply the entire country in two days.”

  Ev
eryone cheered. Everyone but me and Mom. Mom didn’t look like she had two days and neither did Elaine.

  Jeff looked straight at me. “We have enough doses right now for those who are sickest to get vaccinated. Tito’s on his way over to administer the cure.”

  Hugged Mom. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Wanted to cry with relief but didn’t because I wasn’t sure that we were out of the woods and I had too much to cry about right now and didn’t want to be bawling my head off for the foreseeable future. I’d experienced life without my mother in Bizarro World. I wasn’t ready to experience that in my own world. But that wasn’t going to be up to me.

  “Thanks for worrying, kitten.” Mom leaned her head on my shoulder. “But I’ll be fine.” Then she sighed and closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER 93

  WE WERE BACK IN the Embassy after the funeral.

  We were supposed to be in the White House now, seeing as it had been a week since the big attack, but Jeff refused to rush Elaine out. We were also supposed to do some kind of inauguration party, but Jeff really didn’t want to do that.

  Had no energy to argue about these things one way or the other. Plus I was jumpy and nervous and generally out of sorts. Understandably, but still, it didn’t make being First Lady any easier.

  Cliff, Reid, and LaRue had gotten away. Their helicopter had been faster than the jets Andrews had scrambled. Maybe they were in Titan tech, maybe Drax’s, maybe someone else’s. We’d find out, but for now, they, and the five remaining Crazy Eights, were at large and were all on every nation’s most wanted lists.

  A new Vice President needed to be selected and approved as well as a host of Cabinet members and some of the Joint Chiefs. Probably more. But right now, we were too busy mourning.

  Pierre had provided his usual Funeral Feast and people were eating, even Elaine and her family, who’d come back with us.

  Dad was carrying Charlie and Jeff had Jamie. Jamie hadn’t been herself this week because, as far as I could tell, she’d come dangerously close to draining all her power trying to keep everyone she could alive. The other kids who’d been helping her were all quiet, too, which was worrisome.