by Gini Koch
“You win the Understatement of the Year Award.” I decided we should stop faking it. “I’m sorry, I know we met at the Ball, but most of it’s a blur. I appreciate you pretending I wasn’t just incredibly rude.”
Cliff laughed. “I know how many people Ambassadors tend to meet in any given month. Considering what had gone on, and what you helped avert, I’m amazed you can remember that the President was there, let alone anyone else. This is a much better introduction, for both of us.”
So, Cliff was in a high level of “know.” Not a surprise, based on his position. But I’d been trained to not give away everything, even though I might think the person I was talking to knew everything already. Mom and Chuckie both had been big on that mindset, and Dad had supported it, too.
Buchanan returned with Chuckie in tow. “Cliff, thanks for coming.” They shook hands without the usual male posturing coming from Cliff that I normally saw around Chuckie, which was refreshing. At least there was one guy in power out there who viewed Chuckie as a person to be valued as opposed to killed or discredited.
Buchanan stayed back and didn’t seem eager to be introduced. I was going to do the introductions anyway, but Cliff spoke before I could. “So, Chuck, can I get a debrief on what really happened at NASA Base?”
Chuckie looked a little uncomfortable. I took the logic leap. “Can you do that in front of me?”
Cliff chuckled. “You were a part of it, so yes. I understand there was a problem with your HSAC test, though.”
“Yeah.” I looked at Chuckie and shot him the “what do I say” look.
He nodded. “You can give Cliff the full details, Kitty. Including all the details about your attacker.”
“Oh, what fun. Shall we get out of the hallway to do this? I mean, we’re not exactly lacking in available rooms.”
“Oh?” Cliff asked. “I’d heard your Embassy was pretty much filled to capacity.”
“Not really. We try to avoid having the fire marshals called in.”
Cliff laughed. “Good point. I don’t want to take up a lot of your time—I was just nearby and figured this was a good way to get the unofficial answers before I’m asked for the official ones.”
“True enough,” Chuckie said. “Kitchen?”
“Sure, I never say no to the comfortable room.” Cliff looked around. “Though I’d bet every room here would be comfortable.”
“It is.” I didn’t add that it was plush and a showcase—Cliff looked smart enough to figure that out on his own. Chuckie led him into the kitchen, with White trailing them. Buchanan stayed in the hall. He looked like he was pondering something. “Coming?”
Buchanan shook his head. “No. But remember, we have things we want to do. Things that aren’t necessarily going to make some people happy.”
I figured he didn’t want me to share with Cliff that we were planning to head out to grab an influential senator and the top paparazzo to see if they could help us solve the mystery of dirty pictures featuring me and Chuckie. I was certain Chuckie wouldn’t want me to mention said pictures, either. I nodded. “Gotcha.”
Buchanan gave me a half-smile. “Don’t be long.”
I joined the others in the kitchen. Pierre, with Jamie on his hip, already had everyone settled at the small table for four with a beverage each and a plate of fresh veggies and dip, and Chuckie was giving Cliff the high-level debrief, with White adding in as needed.
Jamie gave her “Mommy’s Here!” squeal, and I took her from Pierre, got a Coke, and sat in the open chair, opposite Cliff. A part of me wondered why Jeff, Christopher, or any of the others weren’t joining us, but I figured Chuckie had wanted to keep this meeting as small, and as fast, as possible.
Chuckie summed things up, and I had nothing to add—he’d actually given my statement about Sandra the Android and what had happened pretty much verbatim but without my, as Christopher called them, Kittyisms added in.
Cliff sighed. “Another mystery mess. I’d like to find the Evil Geniuses Headquarters and catch them all at their next monthly meeting.”
I burst into laughter. “I thought I was the only one who called them that.”
Cliff grinned. “Nope. I wouldn’t say that to too many people, of course, but Chuck’s special, just like the rest of you here.”
“Thanks, we try.”
“And you succeed. But that reminds me—why has Senator Armstrong been so desperate to have a meeting with you?”
I didn’t remember Chuckie mentioning Armstrong at all in his debrief. I controlled myself from looking at Chuckie, or White. I had the feeling this was a test question. My mind worked fast—I had a variety of ways to answer this, but Cliff wasn’t my mother, ergo, Cliff wasn’t likely able to tell when I was lying, especially if I told the truth that was still, in that sense, a lie.
“Oh, he wants us to use our influence for some of his projects. It’s the usual political cr—ah, stuff.”
Cliff grinned again. “You can say crap in front of me. It’s a nicer word than I’m used to hearing, believe me.” He looked at Jamie. “Whoops.”
I laughed. “It’s okay, and thanks. Anyway, I think the senator feels I’m the weak link, so he’s trying to get me on his side so I’ll influence my husband.”
“And probably Chuck, too. Everyone knows you two are tight.”
“I suppose. It’s hard to say with politicians.”
Cliff nodded. “True enough.” He smiled at Jamie. “Beautiful baby.”
She gurgled, then turned her face into my chest. “Aww, she’s gotten shy. But thank you, we think we’ll keep her.”
He grinned. “Well, I’ll bet there’d be a lot of takers if you wanted to give her up.”
“Uncle Pierre is first in line,” he said as he scooped Jamie out of my arms. She cooed and snuggled next to him as he did the Uncle Pierre version of the Baby Dance.
I figured we should get the conversation off of Jamie, in part because I knew Jeff and the others were probably waiting for Chuckie to rejoin them. “What did you do before you became the Head of Special Immigration Services? You seem really young for the job, so I figure it was impressive.”
“It was,” Chuckie said. “He was the second in command of Andrews Air Force Base.”
Cliff shrugged. “I joined the Air Force right out of high school, worked hard and worked my way up. It’s not that impressive, really.”
“Yeah, I hear that line from Chuckie all the time, too, and I’ve never bought it from him, either. Are you still in the Air Force?”
“Nope. I retired to take the Special Immigration Services position. Neither the President nor the Head of Homeland Security asked me to, by the way, but I didn’t want to appear biased toward any one branch of the military, and I didn’t want the temptation to go back hanging over me.”
“Why would that be a temptation?”
Cliff and Chuckie both snorted. “The pressure of our kinds of jobs make going back to the comfortable familiarity of the military appealing, believe me,” Cliff said.
“Dude, you’re not just whistling Dixie. So they passed over the head man at Andrews and gave the position to you?” Cliff nodded. “Does that mean said head man is thrilled for you or wants your job?”
“I’m honestly not sure.”
“The head man doesn’t like you,” Chuckie said. “Or me, for that matter.”
“I think he doesn’t like you because you’re friends with me,” Cliff replied. “He’s angling for a different promotion, anyway. He’s career military, so Secretary of Defense is his goal.”
“What’s his name?”
“Colonel Marvin Hamlin,” Cliff said. “He may not like us, but he’s still a good man.”
Chuckie shook his head. “You say that about everyone.”
Cliff shrugged. “I’m the trusting one, you’re the suspicious one. We make a good team.” He looked at his watch and stood up. “I’d better get going.”
“Tell whatever committees that I take full responsibility for what ha
ppened at NASA Base,” Chuckie said, as he stood, too.
“Why? None of it was your fault.”
Cliff nodded. “Kitty’s right. Don’t be too hard on yourself, Chuck. Things happen, and we can’t foresee or stop everything. I wish we could, but we can’t. You’re doing not only the best you can, but you’re doing a better job than anyone else in the position has or would.”
Chuckie managed a grin. “Always nice to have a cheering section.”
“Well, I know you have one in Kitty. And you should know you have one in me.” Cliff smiled at me. “Take care of our man here, and don’t let him beat himself up.”
“Will do.”
We all shook hands and walked Cliff to the door. We said our good-byes and he walked off down the block into Sheridan Circle.
“He doesn’t have a driver?” White asked, as we saw Cliff hail a taxi and get in.
“No, he’s big on public transportation.” Chuckie shook his head. “I’d prefer it if he had a driver. He leaves himself too open.”
“You know, he mentioned that Colonel Hamlin is a good man. Think that the Colonel could be the good man Bellie was referring to?”
Chuckie shrugged. “Could be. Cliff’s last name is Goodman, so it could be him, too, I suppose.”
“Only you don’t think he’s a bad guy.”
“No. I don’t. Of course, I could be wrong.”
“Like when does that happen? Exactly never?”
“Hey, I was wrong about where Hoffa was buried,” Chuckie said ruefully, as Buchanan rejoined us.
“That’s right. Where is—”
“Ambassador Martini’s getting really impatient,” Buchanan said. “I think you need to get back in there. They can’t do anything without you.”
Chuckie nodded. “You’re right.” He hugged me. “Thanks, and be careful. And don’t tell me what you’re doing so I don’t have to lie to Cliff about it.” He sauntered down the hall, again looking relaxed and like the guy I was used to, not Mr. Tension Overload. He’d needed Naomi and Abigail, but Cliff’s visit had helped him just as much.
“You look pleased,” Buchanan said quietly.
“It’s nice to see him have an actual friend here, other than me or the Gower girls, I mean.”
Buchanan nodded but didn’t say anything.
“You don’t agree?” White asked.
Buchanan shrugged. “Like I told Missus Chief not that long ago, you want to be sure the people who appear to be your friends like you for yourself.”
“And Cliff sure seems to like Chuckie for who he is.”
“His last name is Goodman,” Buchanan said flatly.
“And he said his former commanding officer was a good man. We discussed this before d t happen?you rejoined us. Chuckie trusts this guy, and that’s always been and always will be good enough for me.
“Goodman is a common last name,” White said. “And there are plenty of good men out there. I don’t believe we
have enough yet to point a finger at anyone, especially based on the word of a parrot.”
Buchanan nodded. “Too true, Mister White. Now, Missus Chief, I think we have another task at hand that you wanted to get moving on. We either get going or we table it for tomorrow, your choice.”
“Let’s roll.”
Buchanan chuckled. “You sound so ‘street’ when you say that.”
Yi
CHAPTER 20
WHILE WHITE AND BUCHANAN went to get whatever it was they’d need for our latest adventure, I retrieved Jamie from Pierre again and headed to the fourth floor.
Pierre had insisted we put in a school and daycare center within the first days he was with us. Because they were living at the Embassy now, too, and she wanted something to do while her husband was fighting the various fuglies we were always up against, Denise Lewis was the teacher and daycare worker. Right now, we didn’t have a lot of students, just their kids, Raymond and Rachel, and Jamie. However, we had a number of infants whose mothers were about to go back to work full time and another set of babies on the way—Denise wouldn’t have it easy for too long.
Denise was a gorgeous blonde with a fabulous figure and perfect teeth. She wasn’t a Dazzler, which was what I called all the female A-Cs to myself, but she gave them a good run for their money.
She gave me a huge smile. “I didn’t want to suggest it, but I was hoping you’d bring Jamie in for a while. I’ve missed her.”
“She’s missed you, too, I’m sure.” I gave Jamie a big hug and kiss, then handed her and her diaper bag, which I’d been carting around all this time, to Denise. “Not sure when I’ll be back. I have breast milk stored up, but since her teeth have come in, she’s started solids.”
Denise laughed. “Pierre talked with your mother-in-law. We’re fully stocked for everything our little girl here needs. Besides, you’ll be back soon.”
“Huh?”
“It’s almost dinner time.”
I gave Jamie another kiss, then rejoined White and Buchanan at the front door. “Shall we go retrieve the boys from Romanian soil? I don’t think we can do much else today—Denise pointed out that time has flown.”
“That happens when we’re fighting off dangerous forces and taking impromptu politically charged meetings, Missus Martini,” White pointed out.
“Sure, let’s get the kids,” Buchanan said. “I want to discuss something with you before I do my fast fade anyway.”
W/foanhe kidse closed the door behind us and went down the steps. “You mean you want to share that whatever’s going on that I’m not allowed to know about ultimately has to do with me in some way, or else Jeff wouldn’t be worried about my being followed.”
Buchanan grinned. “Never let it be said you’re not intuitive, Missus Chief.”
“Never let it be said I’m not used to this kind of crap happening all the time, either. I’d just like to be on record that protocol which prevents the target from actually knowing what’s going on is protocol designed to ensure the target gets killed.”
“I’m not going to allow that,” Buchanan said calmly.
“I’m sure you’re not,” White replied. “I’m not either. However, Missus Martini has a point. Are you sure you shouldn’t stay and find out what’s actually going on?”
“Let’s go get your official C.I.A. bodyguards.”
White and I looked at each other. “So,” I said, “what you’re not saying, Malcolm, is that you already know what’s going on.”
“I might be saying that, yeah. I might, on the other hand, want you to get your official guards around before I disappear.”
“Or you want the boys to hear what’s going on, too. Great. Let’s include Adriana and her grandmother in this vague intel debrief. If, as is so much more likely, Olga doesn’t already know more than anyone else about what’s going on.”
We trotted across the street. Either they’d been expecting us or someone was right by the front door, because it opened before we could even knock.
“Come in, Ambassador,” Adriana said from behind the door. “And Mister White. Nice to see you up close, Mister Buchanan.”
“Never mind,” I said to Buchanan and White as we all crossed the threshold. “I presume Olga knows exactly what’s going on.”
Adriana laughed as she closed the door. “Grandmother is aware of many things and has been eagerly awaiting your return to town. Don’t worry—it’s only Grandmother and me here right now.”
The last time the entire Romanian diplomatic mission had been gone, they’d been touring their country’s visiting president around D.C. I chose not to ask if that was the case again or not. We had other issues.
As we followed Adriana upstairs to the second floor, which was much warmer and inviting than the entry area, I asked myself why Olga never used a telephone. Then reminded myself that it was because, as former KGB, she knew how easily they were tapped.
We found her at the end of the long hallway, in her study that had two floor-length windows, one facing our Emb
assy, one looking out onto Sheridan Circle. It was a nice room, and the handicapped handles around the windows were done, like everything else here, tastefully.
Olga was in her wheelchair, flanked by the boys, who were busy stuffing their faces with a variety of Romanian treats. Yeah, we’d all gotten used to eating well, and a lot, while we were in Florida. I would have mentioned that snacking here would ruin our appetites for dinner later, but I already knew that none of us had shown the least issuehe ock.
We officially introduced Buchanan for the sake of politeness, even though she already knew about him. White gave her a little bow and kissed her hand. He always did this better than Gadoire, a classic example of damning with faint praise.
I went over and gave Olga a big hug. “It’s so nice to see you.”
“And it is always nice to see you. How is your beautiful baby? All through with her traumatic teething experience?”
“I won’t even ask how you knew, but yes, all her baby choppers are in, and she seems back to her usual happy self.”
“That is good, and not a moment too soon. And I knew because your husband visited me to show off his lovely bird and have some company that did not require him to be the Ambassador, merely a husband and father missing his family.”
Nice to know Jeff had missed us. I really wished he’d attached to one of our existing pets, though. We certainly had enough dogs, cats, and Poofs around. But no. He’d gone for the bird. My luck was always consistent.
“Great, so you’ve met Bellie, the new love of Jeff’s life. I’m sure you realized whose bird she was before anyone told you.”
“Oh, yes. But the bird is innocent of her former owner’s wrongdoing. However, she is quite bright.” Olga looked at me expectantly.
Adriana brought each of us a glass of lemonade; the boys already had some. There were more chairs in here than the last time I’d visited—clearly they’d been expecting us. White, Buchanan, and I settled down as Adriana brought in more goodies. I snagged a cookie to keep up my strength.
