Alien vs. Alien

by Gini Koch

  Armstrong sighed. “When you change your mind, I want you to remember that I requested privacy.” He put the attaché on a nearby table, opened it, and pulled out a large manila envelope. The rest of us crowded around the table. Jeff was behind me and he took and squeezed my hand.

  Armstrong pulled some pictures out of the envelope and spread them out on the table.

  We all stared.

  “Whoa,” Kyle said finally.

  “Wow,” was Len’s contribution.

  Jeff, Chuckie, and Christopher didn’t make a sound. Neither did I. I was still trying to process what I was seeing.

  “Kitty,” Amy whispered, “what did you

  do?”

  Yi

  CHAPTER 4

  I CONTINUED TO STARE AT THE PICTURES. They showed me and Chuckie having a really good time. An amazingly good time, in fact. A very good, very naked, time.

  These pictures weren’t from our one week fling in Vegas years ago. Both of us looked about our ages now.

  “Now do you see why I wanted this meeting, and for it to be in private?” Armstrong asked.

  Jeff let go of my hand and picked up the pictures. “Huh.” He handed them to Chuckie.

  “Interesting.” Chuckie handed them to Christopher.

  I managed not to mention everyone was looking at my audition for Hustler Girl of the Month. I was still too shocked to think about much at all, other than wondering when Chuckie and I had blacked out and consummated this torrid affair, because it certainly wasn’t an event I remembered.

  Christopher grunted and put the pictures back in the envelope, which he held onto.

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Jeff said to Armstrong. “Let me show you out.”

  “I understood you were still in Washington,” Armstrong said, not budging.

  “This is my parents’ house. My wife and child are here. What’s surprising about that?” Jeff smiled widely. It wasn’t a very nice smile, not like his normal one. I got the impression he was controlling himself from hitting someone. “Of course, I can see how my being here puts a real monkey wrench into your plans to blackmail my wife.”

  “Sorry about that,” Christopher added, in a tone of voice that said quite the opposite.

  “See the senator and the other gentlemen out, will you?” Chuckie said to Len and Kyle.

  The boys nodded and moved closer. Gadoire and Vance took the hint. “Call if you want to talk or need a shoulder, my dove,” Gadoire said to me as Kyle none-too-gently nudged him and Vance toward the door.

  “After you, Senator,” Len said. He also looked like he was controlling himself from hitting someone.

  Armstrong shook his head. “We need to talk about this,” he said to me. “These pictures were sent to me, and they’re going to be used against you.”

  “Unless what?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Armstrong said. “Look, I know we’re not the closest of friends, but I didn’t come here to blackmail you. I came to warn you.”

  “We’re warned,” Jeff said. “We’ll be in touch.” He nodded to Len, who took the senator’s arm and led him out of the study. Chuckie locked the door behind them.

  “Kitty’s been here the whole time,” Amy said. “We’re sleeping in the same room, too.”

  Jeff rolled his eyes. “We know. Christopher, what do we have?”

  Christopher took the pictures out again and spread them on the table.

  “Crap, Armstrong left his attaché here.” I reached for it, but Chuckie grabbed my wrist. I looked up at him, and he shook his head strongly.

  “We’ll send it to him,” Jeff said.

  “These pictures are real,” Christopher said. “I’m sure we [’oire don’t want them being leaked.”

  I opened my mouth, and Chuckie put his hand over it, giving me a “you’re really being dense” look.

  “We’ll figure out what we need to do once we’re back home, then,” Jeff said. “I’ll deal with the two of you later,” he added.

  Only, he wasn’t looking at me, or Chuckie, or even Christopher. Jeff and Christopher were looking at and talking to the attaché case.

  Amy’s mouth opened, and Chuckie rolled his eyes and shot her a “shut up, shut up” look. We’d all gone to high school together, so she recognized the look and slammed her mouth shut.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Christopher said. He gathered the pictures and put them back into the envelope.

  We all filed out of the study and went into the kitchen. This was not where I wanted to have the powwow. However, the three men still looked as though they didn’t want me or Amy to talk.

  To my surprise, no one I was expecting was around. Instead, there were two field teams, each comprised of an empath and imageer, patiently waiting. Like the rest of the men, they were wearing black Armani suits with white shirts and black ties. A-Cs loved their Armani and formality, usually in that order.

  “Search the house, quietly, quickly, and carefully,” Jeff said in a low voice. “I’m assuming the only bugs are in the study we just left, but let’s be positive.”

  The agents nodded and zipped off at hyperspeed. In the olden days I wouldn’t have been able to see them. Now I could. Sort of. So far, if I wasn’t concentrating at all or was concentrating really hard, I could see A-Cs using hyperspeed. But if I was in that middle phase of normal focus, they still sort of disappeared.

  “Does anyone want to tell me and Amy what’s going on?”

  Christopher went to the counter and spread the pictures out yet again. This time, though, I could tell he was actually examining them using his imageering talent. “It’s really Kitty and it’s really Reynolds,” he said finally. “But . . .”

  “But?”

  Christopher shook his head. “Something’s wrong.”

  “Aside from the fact that Chuckie and I haven’t been having an affair, you mean?”

  Christopher nodded. “I can’t explain what, though.”

  “Do the Go Team move.”

  Jeff chuckled, which was kind of a relief. He put his hand on top of Christopher’s. Empaths, if they were good enough, could read an image through an imageer, if the imageer was good enough. Jeff and Christopher sort of defined “more than good enough.”

  Jeff looked thoughtful. “Huh. Well, you’re both really enjoying yourselves. But if you were cheating, baby, it’s nice to know what you were thinking about was me.”

  Christopher nodded. “Yeah, the only thing I can get from this specific moment is a focus on you, Jeff.”

  “Same with Reynolds. He’s not thinki [s g rng about Kitty . . .” Jeff’s eyes narrowed, and he shot a glare at Chuckie. “Interesting.”

  Chuckie shrugged. “I’m allowed to have a personal life. You, of all people, should be happy about that.”

  “I am. I suppose.” Jeff took his hand away. “Anyway, these photos are doctored.”

  “You guys are all really calm. Amazingly calm. Calmer than me and Amy, and I guarantee Len and Kyle. Jeff, I’m not unhappy you’re not trying to kill me and Chuckie, but I’m sort of surprised. I mean, I want to ask questions, and I’m in the pictures. Of course, my first question is, how the hell am I in these pictures?”

  “I got a tip,” Chuckie said. “Filtered through our favorite paparazzo.”

  “How is Mister Joel Oliver?”

  “Worried about your reputation. He called me and said he was sure there were incriminating photos of the two of us.” Chuckie chuckled. “I think he thought they were real and was warning me so Martini wouldn’t kill me.”

  “They look real.”

  “They are real,” Christopher said patiently. “This is really you and really Reynolds. Only from what Jeff and I can pick up, you’re not having sex with each other.”

  “Reynolds and I talked about this over two weeks ago,” Jeff said. “But until something surfaced, Oliver didn’t have more to go on other than the juicy rumors, to use his phrase, we had other, more important things to focus on, and we figured it would
be better not to worry you in case it ended up being nothing.”

  “How did they get naked pictures of Kitty and Chuck doing the deed, with each other or anyone else, in the first place?” Amy sounded repulsed and horrified. Great.

  The light dawned. After all, Operation Confusion hadn’t been all that long ago. “The secret lab. The bad guys had a bank of screens, and cameras all looking at our bedrooms. But I thought that was so they could make accurate clones of everyone.”

  “We destroyed the lab and those clones,” Chuckie said. “But that doesn’t mean we destroyed any videotapes or pictures kept elsewhere. I know we haven’t found everything related to the lab and the people involved with it.”

  “I’d ask why they saved them, beyond being too cheap to buy their own porn, but I can clearly see the advantages for the Bad Guys Club.”

  “I think we should have questioned Armstrong and his cronies more,” Chuckie said to Jeff. “It would be helpful to have a clearer idea of who’s behind this.”

  Jeff shook his head. “It was all I could do not to pound them into the ground. Too much longer and I would have created a diplomatic incident.”

  “Yeah, I understand. But the P.T.C.U. wants this investigated before it has to be turned over to Homeland Security, and I don’t want to have nothing to tell Angela when she calls me, let alone have to explain this to Cliff if I can help it.”

  “Why is my mom involved at all?”

  Chuckie shot me a look that said my being in Florida for a month had obvi [ont-1" ously killed brain cells. “Buchanan called your mother to advise her of Armstrong’s visit, and she called me to find out what’s going on,” he said as Len and Kyle rejoined us. “Oh, and duh.”

  Two and a half years ago, this wouldn’t have been a really stupid question on my part. Admittedly, by now, yeah, it was, because, as I’d discovered when I met Jeff and the rest of the gang from Alpha Four, what I’d believed my parents did was only sort of right. My father’s cover was history professor at Arizona State University. What he did for fun and much more profit was cryptology for NASA, in their Extra-Terrestrial Division.

  My mother, as it turned out, was a consultant, just as I’d always been told. Only she consulted on antiterrorism, since she was actually the head of the very clandestine and very kick-butt Presidential Terrorism Control Unit. She was also the only non-Israeli, non-Jew to be in the Mossad. A long story I’d never fully gotten out of her, but basically my mom wrote the book on kicking butt and taking names.

  “Why would this go to Homeland Security?”

  “It would go to Homeland Security because Senator Armstrong has the highest-level security clearances, and you’re part of American Centaurion, and these pictures indicate a severe security risk if you and I are having an affair, particularly if it’s perceived that Armstrong is trying to cover it up,” Chuckie said patiently.

  “So, who’s Cliff?”

  “Clifford Goodman, the recently appointed Head of Special Immigration Services. He reports directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security.”

  “Special meaning extraterrestrial?”

  “Yes.”

  “You like him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” I tried not to sound shocked and failed, if Chuckie giving me a rather snide look was any indication.

  He shrugged. “He’s no worse than your average younger politician and better than most. He’s been quite helpful to me, and to Centaurion Division, since he moved into the position. And he’s a decent guy. You’ve met him.”

  “I have?”

  “At the President’s Ball. After all the excitement was over. The President introduced you to him personally.”

  We’d met so many people that night, after almost dying so many times, most of them were a blur. But Chuckie didn’t hate this guy, and he wasn’t in the Cabal of Evil, so fine, I could file this information in my To Be Worried About Later folder. I had a much more pressing concern. “So what does Mom know about this?” I sort of hoped absolutely nothing.

  “She knows what I did before coming here today, and she also knows that if there are pictures, they’re either from years ago or doctored. They’re doctored; she won’t be upset with you.” Chuckie grinned. “So you can stop worrying.”

  “For about five minutes,” Christopher added. “Because I don’t think that threat Armstrong made was an idle one.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Jeff agreed. “However, I didn’t pick up what I was expe [at em"cting to.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “Devious intent, triumph, those kinds of emotions, baby. What I got, however, was a lot of concern and, of course, lust from Pepé Le Pew.” Jeff shook his head. “Armstrong might have been telling the truth.”

  “Great.” Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “S

  o, who’s out to get all of us this time? And why?”

  Yi

  CHAPTER 5

  “NO IDEA,” JEFF SAID. “But lunch is ready, so let’s eat.”

  Christopher put the pictures once again into their plain brown wrapper and handed them to me. “Thanks. I want to put these into my purse or something,” I said to Jeff as the others headed for the dining room. “I do not want your parents to take a gander.”

  Jeff smiled and took my hand. “I’ll go with you.”

  He zipped us off at hyperspeed, so we were in the bedroom in about a second flat. “So, miss me?” he asked as I shoved the pictures into my purse.

  I turned around, flung myself at him, and kissed him. His kiss was, as always, amazing—deep, sensuous, his lips and tongue owning mine.

  He ended the kiss slowly. “So, when were you going to tell me?”

  “Tell you what? I didn’t know about these pictures, and I absolutely wasn’t having an affair with Chuckie, or anyone else for that matter.”

  “I know, baby. There’s no way you could hide that from me. No, I mean about Jamie being ready to come home.”

  “She isn’t.” I looked at his expression. He was upset, much more about this than the naked pictures. “Tito, Melanie, and Emily are supposed to come down tomorrow and check her out. Then, if they all think she’s done teething, we can head home.”

  “She hasn’t been in pain for three days.”

  “And just how do you know that? You’re not supposed to be monitoring, her or me, remember? That’s the whole reason we’ve been here for a month.”

  He looked just a little guilty. “Yeah, I know . . .”

  “But you have been, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah. When Reynolds told me about Oliver’s warning, I figured I’d better check. So I’ve done random checks over the past couple of weeks.”

  “To make sure I wasn’t doing the horizontal mambo with Len, Kyle, or Malcolm?” I asked, a tad more sarcastically than I’d intended.

  “No.” Of course, his eyes now weren’t meeting mine. Most A-Cs couldn’t lie to save their or anyone else’s lives, and Jeff was pretty much the prime example of this lack of skill.

  I snorted. “Right, because my husband, Monsieur Jealousy, would never worry about something like that.”

  Jeff sighed. “I trust you, baby, I do. I just . . . I needed to be sure. I haven’t really seen you for so long . . .”

  I leaned my head against his chest and let the sound of his heartbeats calm me. It felt so nice to be together again, I didn’t want to bicker or fight. “I know. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “I could feel it. I could also feel that Jamie wasn’t in pain.”

  “Your parents didn’t want to take the chance that we were wrong and that she might still have issues, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up, or mine, and then have to say, ‘Oh, sorry, false alarm.’ It’s been fine being here, but it sucks without you.”

  “I understand. And I can’t really blame you, either. We brought Tito, Emily, and Melanie with us. They’re with Jamie right now.”

  I looked up. “Really? So, if Ja
mie checks out, we can all go home?”

  Jeff grinned. “Yep. There’s no way I’m leaving my wife and child here any longer unless I absolutely have to. You’re not the only one who’s felt lonely in a room full of other people.”

  It was nice to know he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. The desire to rip his clothes off and see if we could figure out when the naked pics of me had been taken by reviewing our entire sexual repertoire was pretty much overwhelming.

  Jeff’s eyes smoldered, and he got the sexy “jungle cat about to eat me” look on his face. I loved that look. I’d missed that look for four straight weeks.

  We’d have undoubtedly gone for it, people waiting for us in the dining room or not, but there was a knock on the door.

  Jeff heaved a sigh and let me out of his arms. I managed to refrain from snarling when I opened the door. “Oh, hi, Tito.”

  Tito Hernandez had joined us in Vegas, when some of the many invading bad guys had tried to kill another one of my best friends. Tito had been working three jobs while going to medical school, while cage fighting on the side for fun. Now he was a full-time doctor who still practiced mixed martial arts because he used it regularly—not in the octagon so much as a part of our daily lives.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he said in a tone that indicated he really wasn’t. “But I figured you’d want to know Jamie’s test results right away.”

  I tried not to tense and failed if Jeff massaging the back of my neck was any indication. “Is she okay?”

  Tito grinned. “She’s fine. It looks like she’s past all the teething she’s going to do for a good long while.”

  I contemplated jumping up and down but figured I’d save my energy for sex. “So we get to go home?”

  “Whenever you want.”

  “Now’s good.”

  Jeff chuckled. “Right after lunch.”

  ="2em">

  I sighed. “And here you said you missed me.”

  Yi