by Gini Koch
“Who just showed up to kick Antoinette out of her seat and take the ones reserved for me and Christopher?” I asked quietly.
“Mister Hollywood and your newest jock addition took your chairs,” Jeff replied softly. Sure enough, I’d missed Cologne and Adam, who were sitting near Airborne. “We figured we’d add them in whenever you got here. Antoinette’s seat, however . . .” He looked down the table at someone I realized I hadn’t registered as being present, seeing as how there always seemed to be a million people in this room.
Of course, this was someone who I should have noticed, in no small part because he was in traditional Arab clothing. And in bigger part because he radiated authority tinged with menace.
Ali Baba Gadhavi—the head of the large and incredibly dangerous Indian Mob, Bahrain’s sorta citizen, one of Interpol’s Most Wanted, and the Mastermind’s former benefactor—was in the house.
CHAPTER 20
GADHAVI AND I had met near the end of Operation Immigration. He’d allowed me to do what I needed to in order to save the world, and we’d parted on friendly terms, in no small part because my team had been able to show him that Cliff Goodman, aka the Mastermind, had been planning a takeover of Gadhavi’s empire.
Being on good terms with Gadhavi was something I still counted as potentially the biggest line item for my win column. This wasn’t a man to cross, to treat with any form of disrespect, or to even tease. This was a man who meant business in all the ways that phrase could be taken.
While Raheem reminded me of a teddy bear, Gadhavi reminded me of a grizzly—he could be cuddly, possibly, but only as long as you didn’t forget that he could kill you with one swipe.
That he was here and no one was trying to arrest him, my mother in particular, said More Is Going On very clearly.
He stood as I noticed him, and gave me a very formal bow. “It is good to be in your presence again.”
Stood as well and bowed in return. “And I in yours.” Hoped this was the right response, but he didn’t start growling, so figured I’d guessed correctly. “What brings your august presence to us?”
His lips quirked—he’d questioned whether I was using sarcasm on him the first time we’d met, and I had a feeling he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure that I wasn’t teasing him in some way. That he found it amusing was a relief.
“I have information for you that has granted me safe passage.” He looked pointedly at Mom. “And my respect for you grants safe passage for those you hold dear.”
“I appreciate that, truly. So, if we can stop being formal, since we’re all here as friends, I have to assume that whatever news you have is so dramatic and high level that you couldn’t trust a courier, telephone, Skype, or email to share it.”
He nodded. “It is that. And all of those options can be . . . waylaid, tapped, destroyed, and so forth.”
Wow. Whatever the hell Gadhavi had for me, it was gigantic. “I appreciate you bringing this news to me in person. Um, would you like to sit again, or should we both remain standing?”
He smiled and gestured that I should sit, which I did. He didn’t, however. Instead, he turned to one of the many video screens we had in the room and nodded. To a couple of Field agents who were manning whatever audio-visual Gadhavi had either brought with him or requested.
“How did he get here?” I asked Jeff as softly as possible.
“Gate. Request went through the P.T.C.U.”
“Huh.” Then I stopped asking quiet questions, because what was on the screen was far too unsettling.
An older, balding man with apple cheeks and white hair that was puffy on the sides was in frame. As always when I first saw him, it was hard to believe this was the face of the most intolerant person potentially in the world. Farley Pecker was at a lectern, preaching. He was speaking in English and being translated into a variety of languages, including Arabic.
A tall man of average build and looks was behind Pecker, and it was clear they were both on a stage. This man was in a business suit and was far enough away from the camera that it didn’t catch the crazy look I knew was in his eyes. Harvey Gutermuth was unlikely to have lost that look since the last time I’d seen him.
At first I thought it was Pecker’s usual hate and intolerance speech. Only as we listened, realized that it was much worse. He’d dumped his false view of Christianity and wasn’t even going for specifics in religion now. No, he was talking about the End of Days and how every alien was actually a demon of some kind.
The camera panned to the audience. If you ignored who was talking, it was quite the We Are The World Gathering. And the crowd was, to a person, really into the sermon. “Am I wrong in thinking that there are a ton of people here, and they’re from all over?”
“No, you’re correct—every country is represented,” Gadhavi said.
“You’re sure?” Jeff asked, as Pecker ripped apart all the religious leaders who’d “turned from God” in order to welcome the alien demons to our world. He named names, a lot of them. Not that any of the world’s religious leaders were hiding, but Pecker was sharing them as a hit list.
“Yes.”
“How in the world did they get all those people to wherever this is?” I asked. “I know how we do it, but even the most traitorous A-C that ever lived wouldn’t have wanted this particular rally to be going on.” Because Pecker was definitely saying that all the A-Cs were demons, and that the only good aliens were dead aliens. Even Ronald Yates wouldn’t have encouraged this. I found it hard to believe anyone had gated these people to this gathering.
Gadhavi looked at me, as Pecker named me, Jeff, Chuckie, Mom, really most of the people in this room by name, suggesting that we all needed to die. “They have powerful friends in many places. Including here.”
“Are those friends wealthy?”
“Money is power, so yes, they are.”
“Do you know who here is funding this?” Jeff asked. Noted that no one besides the two of us was adding in. Possibly because I wasn’t the only one who was thinking of Gadhavi as a grizzly bear.
“Yes, which is why I came personally.”
“Why?” Chuckie asked mildly, instantly proving my assumption wrong.
“Because these enemies of yours are also my enemies. Listen to the rest, distasteful as it is.”
Sure enough, Pecker was now talking about how gangsters and criminals were all supporting the alien demons and should, therefore, be overthrown and their wealth taken by the good and true people who were at this rally. He started naming names, and Gadhavi’s was high on the list.
“He’s named everyone on Interpol’s Most Wanted,” Chuckie said when Pecker paused to let his assembly cheer. “And on the U.S.’s as well.”
“And others.” Gadhavi shook his head. “There is infiltration everywhere from these so-called True Believers.”
“That’s for sure.” Did a fast recap to explain why we had nine Bahraini bodyguards in the Pentagon’s supermax prison. “But I don’t understand how they infiltrated so quickly.”
Gadhavi shrugged. “There are always those who cannot see that change is here. As you said to me when we first met, not everyone is adaptable. Fear, as I know you know, is a strong motivator.”
“Who is it you suspected would intercept your message to Kitty?” Chuckie asked.
Gadhavi cocked his head. “You feel that I speak to her only?”
“I know you do,” Chuckie said pleasantly. “It doesn’t offend anyone here. We’re used to it.”
Gadhavi stared at Chuckie for a long moment. Then he nodded. “You’re correct. I have a list of names of those we are certain are funding these True Believers. There is also a list of suspects who have not been cleared or condemned, and I have that as well.”
Pecker was now listing world leaders. Pretty much anyone leading a country that had even sort of said that aliens were sort of okay was
on this list. Even North Korea got a shout-out.
“You know, when someone’s lumping the crazies in North Korea with everyone else as being part of the Evil Empire, it’s confirmation you’re dealing with lunatics of the highest order.”
“True enough,” Jeff said. He was going to say something else when Gadhavi put his hand up. Therefore, we all focused on the screen.
Pecker was now saying that Jeff had no right to be the King Regent, to be considered the King of Earth. “If we want a king,” Pecker bellowed, “then let us have one we know is true in heart and mind, one who is not a demon, and one who does not consort with demons!”
The crowd cheered and Pecker went on. “If the aliens think they can force a king upon us, then we will force our king upon them, and we will ensure that this world runs red with their evil blood!”
More cheers. The crowd seemed unanimously behind Pecker. Whoever was filming was taking the entire crowd in. Wondered who’d infiltrated this mob and figured I could ask about that later.
“I know you revere the One True God! I know you love our world, the world that belongs to us, to humanity! And I know you will join with me and support the man who can lead us against these demons!”
Had to hand it to Pecker, he really had the old-time pulpit rhythms going. The crowd was fully revved up and ready to riot.
“I give you our noble leader, and the true king of this world—Harvey Gutermuth!”
The crowd went crazy while Gutermuth put his hands up in that way people have when they’re supposedly telling the crowd to quiet down but really want them to go on clapping. Gadhavi nodded to the A-C running the AV and the videotape was paused. Then he turned back to me and Jeff.
“And now you see why I felt I had to bring this information to you personally.”
Jeff nodded. “I do. And thank you. What do we need to do in order to get these lists of supporters from you? I’m not insinuating that you came here to bribe us, by the way. While I haven’t been in politics all that long, I’m fully aware that there’s always a price to pay for anything and everything.”
“I enjoy working with intelligent people.” Gadhavi smiled. “I have considered the offer your wife made to me and I would like to accept.”
Jeff looked at me. “What offer?”
“Um . . . I think he means when I mentioned that the new galactic order was going to need businessmen like Mister Gadhavi. Minus the human trafficking, drugs, extortion, blackmail, and gambling.”
“Oh, the gambling can stay,” Chuckie said. “It can even be increased. We’ve discovered that many alien races really love it. The rest, though, yes, needs to stop.”
Gadhavi shrugged. “I’m a businessman. I can see the advantages to stopping many of the pursuits you named. But that is my price to help you stop these madmen.”
Most of the room perked up. “You’ll be helping us?” Mom asked slowly.
Gadhavi nodded gravely. “Yes. If I am to move into the, ah, new galactic order, then I must do my part to protect that new order and my new business partners and so on.”
“We can’t condone murdering these people,” Mom said regretfully. “Though it would make everyone else’s lives so much easier.”
Gadhavi started to laugh and looked back to me. “I see where your attitude comes from.” He turned back to Mom. “It will be an honor to work with you, and I say that rarely.”
Mom barked a laugh. “Well, I say this rarely, too, especially to someone with your history, but, welcome aboard. The Presidential Terrorism Control Unit welcomes their newest expert consultant with open arms.”
CHAPTER 21
FORTUNATELY, everyone in the room was able to roll with these kinds of out-of-left-field punches. Much official congratulating happened, then Chuckie asked for the Lists of Evil Names.
Gadhavi gave it to me, which significance was lost on no one. “Huh. Interesting and unsurprising as well, but Senator Zachary Kramer and his ‘lovely’ wife Marcia are high up on this list.”
Nathalie made a sound of disgust. “I cannot believe I used to be friends with that woman.”
“Alliances shift,” Chuckie replied with a small smile. “As you’re well aware.”
She nodded. “I am. Kitty, is anyone in this room on the list?”
It was a good question. We had people, those held over from Armstrong’s administration mostly, that we weren’t totally sure of. But none of them were here. “Unless they’re using aliases, no.” Felt the entire room relax.
“You’re correct,” Gadhavi said. “Before I came over I confirmed who was in attendance in this meeting. If one of those had been here, I would not be.”
“Huh,” Mom said. “I didn’t get that request. Charles?”
“Nope, didn’t come through the CIA, either. Vander, did you hear anything, either from your office or the FBI?”
Evander Horn was an attractive black man who’d joined up with us during Operation Infiltration. He’d been the Director of the FBI’s Alien Affairs Division when Chuckie had been the head of the CIA’s Extra-Terrestrial Division. Jeff had moved Horn to Secretary of Homeland Security once he was President. So it made sense that, should the FBI have learned something, their Director, Tom Curran, would have contacted Horn.
“Not a thing. Not through my agency or from Tom.” Horn looked worried. “The question is, I think, who here is working privately with Mister Gadhavi?”
“I am.” Siler shoved off the wall he was leaning against. “And if that shocks any of you, I’d like you all to remember what I spent most of my life doing for a living.”
Gadhavi nodded. “Monsieur Meurtrier is well known to me.”
Didn’t know how many people in the room had a French language background other than me and Amy, but meurtrier was the French word for killer. So, the alias fit.
Several people shot suspicious looks in Siler’s direction. “Then that’s fine with me,” I said, to forestall recriminations. “Nightcrawler always has his reasons, and they’re always in line with what we want and need.”
Siler shot me a quick smile. “Thanks. Mister Gadhavi felt that, under the circumstances, he had to ensure he was coming into a safe environment.”
“Looking at this list, I can’t blame him. Unsurprisingly, gang, Ansom Somerall, Talia Lee, and the rest of the Dealers of Death who aren’t in the room with us are all on this list.”
“War is good for most of them,” McMillan pointed out.
“And we’re clear that they’re not our friends,” Jeff said.
“Which is stupid,” Gadhavi replied.
“I agree, and before anyone else chimes in, Mister Gadhavi didn’t say that to be a supportive team player. He said it because he understands how Centaurion operates. Vance and I have discussed this more than once—it makes zero sense for these lobbyists to have ignored us.”
“Not if they’re virulently anti-alien,” Culver said. “I have no idea if they are or not, but sometimes money doesn’t matter as much as your beliefs.”
“Or their clients are anti-alien,” Gadhavi said.
Chuckie nodded. “Yes, most likely. However, until you gave us this list, we didn’t have any proof of which ones were or weren’t.”
“Do we know now?” Jeff asked. “I don’t recognize half the names on this list.”
“And yet, you should,” Gadhavi said. “They all deal with arms, international commerce, and other industries that would have enjoyed a strong relationship with Centaurion Division. But instead they are doing their best to create a faction bent only on your total destruction.”
“Do you feel that we’re going to win?” Uncle Mort asked. “Is that why you’ve joined with us?”
Gadhavi shrugged. “I cannot see the future. And I have no idea who will prevail.” He smiled at me. “I just prefer to work with those I respect, who offer respect in return.”
Gave him a pleasant smile in return, but I didn’t buy it, not wholly. He was a survivor, but more than that, he didn’t want to be destroyed by these fanatics. If he was stronger aligned with us, then so be it. He’d make us stronger, so it was, at least for now, a win-win.
“The respect is definitely mutual.” Stood up again. “But, I have other things to catch everyone up on. Since Mister Gadhavi is now one of us, I think it’s safe to include him in my several debriefs, most of which are robot related.”
“There’s more than two?” James Reader asked. He was the Head of Field and therefore the head of Alpha Team, the handsomest human I’d ever met, the former top international male model, and Gower’s husband. He was also one of my two best guy friends in the world. “We know about the morning show debacle and you’ve told us about the Bahrainis. What else have we missed?”
“Um, there were Christopher-Bot attacks.”
He flashed me the cover boy grin. “We do know a bit about those. They happened here.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t heard my thoughts.”
Reader laughed. “Okay. It’s not a normal day if you’re not thinking aloud to an audience.”
“I resent that. I can’t deny it, but I do resent it. However, since you’re not wrong, there’s things that are really bothering me about what’s going on. We’ll tackle the most recent question, which only a few of us know about, first. Christopher and I think there’s a mole in the P.T.C.U. or the CIA who got my specs so perfectly that they could create the original Fem-Bot in my likeness.”
This caused consternation in the room, unsurprisingly. I mean, I was worried, and I knew Christopher was, too. Everyone looked concerned, and there was a quiet buzz with people quietly talking to their neighbors.
Other than Mom. Mom didn’t look worried.
Mom looked amused.
CHAPTER 22
