Read Alien in Chief Online

Authors: Gini Koch

Alien in Chief (5 page)

CHAPTER 7

G
OT THE ROOM'S ATTENTION
with that one. All the men stared at me for a few long seconds.

“Excuse me?” Cleary asked finally.

“If we have the Planetary Council arrive at NASA Base, it would make a statement that the Base is necessary, plus keep the Planetary Council out of D.C.”

“They want to chat with the President, I'm sure,” Jeff said. “I don't think we want to drag Vince down to Florida for this.”

“Why not?” Cleary asked. “I mean that seriously. It's his home state, too, and, frankly, I like the Ambassador's idea.”

“And if things get dull, we can always take them to Disney World.” The entire room ignored this statement. Always the way.

“I'm not sure about the logistics, Gideon,” Jeff said, as if I hadn't spoken. “And a spaceship over Florida is no better than a spaceship over Washington.”

“Have them show up via the Alpha Five Transport System.” This one got the room's attention, go me. “They're all comfortable with that method, and as long as no one's trying to stop them their trip here should be relatively smooth.”

“You just don't want to be away from the action,” Jeff said. Accurately.

Not that I was going to admit that. “I think we solve
several problems by doing this all at NASA Base, and if Gideon's with us, then he's away from Stephanie. And The Clarence Clone is in Florida, too.” “Road Runner” by Aerosmith came on, as if to solidify the rightness of my train of thought. “Really, I think it's road trip time.”

Jeff sighed and pulled his phone out. He looked at Kyle. “Turn the music off. I don't want to talk to the President with rock music screaming in the background.”

“Spoilsport,” I muttered.

Kyle grinned and sent a text, presumably because Jeff was dialing and Kyle didn't want to use the intercom system therefore. The music stopped. Did my best not to pout. Failed, if Buchanan trying not to laugh was any indication.

“Hey Vince. Kitty's suggested we have the Planetary Council arrive via phasing transport, meaning no spaceships. Yeah, I agree. Also, she's suggested that they arrive at NASA Base.” He was quiet for a bit. “Yeah, that's her thinking, too. It'll allow us to easily activate TCC at the same time as well.” He chuckled. “I'll tell her.” He hung up and turned to me. “Vince likes your plan.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He said that suggestions in these matters from the woman who averted the total destruction of Earth at least twice probably should be listened to.”

“Vince is my favorite. But I think it's been more than twice.”

Jeff heaved a sigh. “You can argue with him about it on Air Force One, baby. We're flying down there. Tonight.”

Let that sit on the air for a bit. Then found the right words. “No way in hell are we doing that.”

Before Jeff or anyone else could argue, I quickly explained why it just wasn't that simple. In part because we had a huge entourage if it was just going to be our family unit going to Florida. And seeing that it was us, there was no way that only Jeff, the kids, and I were going. Half the Embassy was going to want to go and, once Jeff let Alpha
Team know what was going on, they were all going to want to come, too.

Most embassies didn't clear out half their personnel when the Ambassador was going on a short trip. But most embassies probably weren't packed to the gills with personnel and family members like ours was. And most embassies also didn't expect their ambassadors to get attacked merely by crossing state lines. We were just special that way.

“We could tell them all no,” Jeff said finally, in the tone of voice of a man who already knows he's lost that battle.

“As if. We're going to have far too many people who have
legitimate
reasons to come along to fly them down unless we take not only Air Force One and Air Force Two but also Air Forces Three through Twelve as well. Which, even if they exist, would be okay, as long as we aren't racing down there like our parents are coming home from vacation a day earlier than we expected and we're desperately trying to clean up the house from the all university kegger we threw the night before.”

“I'm not even going to ask why you used that as an example.” Jeff heaved a sigh and dialed again, this time putting us on speakerphone.

Repeated my issues, kegger example included. Armstrong didn't seem to have any issues with it. Then again, I knew he'd been in a frat. “Vince, it's insane to drop everything and race down. And I doubt the Planetary Council expects it, either. Let's get ready, as in really ready, prepped to do double duty or more on the way there, and let's go in such a way that we don't appear to be running.”

Heard a sneeze.

“Bless you. Are you getting a cold?”

“Maybe,” Armstrong said. Was fairly sure I heard him trying to discreetly blow his nose. “If so, it just came on in the last hour. But anyway, you have a good point, Kitty. Several of them, really. Fine. As you say, we won't race like
panicked maniacs. We'll plan an impromptu campaign trip down to Florida that will provide us a safe political reason for the trip and allow us all to be at NASA Base whenever we ask the Planetary Council to meet us there. Gideon, you'll get things set up on your end?”

“Yes. We'll be ready with whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

“Excellent, my office will coordinate with yours.”

“How are we going down?” Jeff asked.

“I don't recommend the plane,” I said quickly. “In part because we're going to have so many in our entourage that the plane might not be able to get off the ground. And a lot of planes flying down sort of screams that the king is fleeing the palace. Plus, if you do have a cold, being up in the air isn't in your best interests.”

Armstrong chuckled. “True enough, and I anticipated your entourage. And, happily, I have a solution that will do the double duty you're so fond of—we're going to take Rail Force One.”

That the President has his own railroad version of Air Force One shouldn't have come as a shock to me when I first found out, but it had. However, it was extremely cool, too, and in ways far different from the mighty plane heralded in song and Harrison Ford movies.

“Awesome!” I loved the train. The Vice President had Air Force Two and Rail Force Two, and we'd used it a few times, but not often enough in my opinion.

“I assume we'll need Rail Force Two as well,” Armstrong said.

We discussed logistics, and the plan was to hook both trains together, hopefully giving us enough space to bring along everyone who felt they had to join us or die trying.

In the olden days, before the A-Cs were outed as being on Earth, this never would have happened. Having the President and Vice President both traveling together was considered far too dangerous, because there had been
people trying to kill leaders as long as humanity had had leaders. And, realistically, it still was pretty dangerous.

However, since the VP and most of his entourage were all A-Cs or, in my case, enhanced, the risks were different. It was actually safer for the President to be with us, since an A-C could, and definitely would, grab him and get him to safety faster than anyone else could have a hope of doing.

From a PR standpoint, Armstrong was all for making the “the A-Cs are our people now” statements as much as he could, and that included showing that he hadn't asked Jeff to be his running mate just for show. So we were gaining several advantages by traveling in this way, including potential stumping stops along the route, since winning office meant that whatever politician had won his or her office immediately had to start campaigning to win said office again.

I was all for the train. Not only did that mean we'd get to actually see some scenery, but the food was always far better than on the airplanes. And the added bonus of no one being able to blow us up while in the air was huge, too. Not that I didn't think that we weren't at risk from some lunatics trying to blow up the train tracks, but we would be on the ground, essentially, and that gave us far more of an advantage.

Calmer Plan B in place, we got off the line and went over what Cleary had to do. We needed him back in his home state to prep things for the imminent arrivals and be there to greet us when we disembarked in Orlando. Sadly, not to go to Disney World, despite my suggesting it again, but to head across to the Kennedy Space Center and NASA Base.

After reassuring Cleary that we weren't going to allow him to be assassinated, we sent him home via a gate. We also sent three Field teams with him. He was the easy one. We had a gigantic entourage coming along for the ride and we weren't taking gates.

But before we could discuss our team's logistics, my phone beeped. “Huh. Lillian Culver wants to grab me for a late lunch.”

“Why?” Jeff asked. Rightly. Culver was the head lobbyist for the top defense contractors, most of whom were our enemies. However, due to a variety of things that had happened, my “uncles'” intervention being one of the biggest, she'd become an ally. However, she wasn't one to want Girl Time.

“She says she heard something that may or may not be significant, but if it is, then she wants me forewarned and herself advised. She's suggesting we go to the Teetotaler so that it looks like we're really having a fun time together, rather than her coming into the Embassy.”

The Teetotaler was one of our favorite little restaurants near the Capitol and Rayburn House, where Jeff's offices had been when he'd been a Representative.

“She want me there, too?”

“She hasn't said, should I ask?”

“No. If she's coming to get you, I'll wait with you and take you to her car. If she wants me along, then it'll look like she was always getting both of us. If not, fine, I'll just go back inside.”

“I'll be tailing you in a car,” Buchanan said. “The boys are required to go with you. She's aware of that, I know, but has she figured on it?”

“No idea, but she'll be here in five minutes so we're going to find out together.”

CHAPTER 8

C
ULVER DROVE A
very nice Bentley, which pulled up in front of our Embassy exactly as promised.

I wasn't really Dressed for Bentley Success, seeing as I was in jeans, my red Converse, and one of my newer Aerosmith shirts that had just Steven Tyler and Joe Perry on the front. Normally I preferred to roll with all of my boys in the band on my chest, but I hadn't been expecting action. Hopefully the only action I'd have is the hard decision about what tea to have at the restaurant.

I'd had just enough time to run upstairs at hyperspeed and grab my purse, ensuring that it had my Glock, several clips, and anything else of vital importance in it, and get back down before Culver had arrived.

Jeff, Len, and Kyle all went down the walkway with me. Culver left the car running but got out. “Jeff, nice to see you. Gentlemen, I'll let you do what you do best.”

She was dressed as I was used to—in red, which was “her” color. Her lipstick always matched. Culver was one of those women who, when you first looked at her, seemed very attractive. But, the longer you looked, the more you realized she was all bones and angles, and when she smiled widely, she always reminded me of the Joker after he'd pulled a particularly nasty stunt on the people of Gotham. I called her Joker Jaws to myself for this reason. However,
not nearly as much these days as when we'd first met. Go D.C. politics.

Len grinned. “I like your style, Miz Culver.”

She was married to Abner Schnekedy—who I'd had the “fun” of meeting in my Washington Wife class along with many other people who were now either still my enemies, dead or, somehow, my friends—but had wisely kept her maiden name for business.

Len got into the driver's seat while Kyle trotted around and opened the driver's side rear door for her.

“You want Jeff, too? Or is this just girls and bodyguards only?”

“I think just the four of us, if that won't offend you, Jeff.”

“Not at all. Just make sure all four of you get back in one piece.”

“Wow, optimistic much?” I leaned up and kissed him goodbye. “I'll text or call if we need you, I promise.”

“I'll be monitoring you, baby, don't worry.” He tucked me into the car as Kyle came around and took shotgun.

We waited to drive off until Jeff was back in the Embassy. Once we were rolling, Culver leaned back and sighed. “Having a driver is a wonderful thing.”

“Yeah, the boys are great. Why are we hanging out?”

“To pretend that I haven't given you the information I'm about to give you.” She looked behind us. “Is that your Mister Buchanan behind us?”

Looked as well. There was a taxicab behind us that seemed to be following us. “Yes,” Len and I said in unison.

Culver laughed. “Good. I feel much safer.”

“You normally don't feel unsafe, Lillian. What's up?”

“Several things. There's a new player in town. European, I think. I haven't met him yet. But Thomas is working a business deal, and from the little he's told me, it could give Titan Security the edge in the weaponized robotics field.”

“You mean more of an edge than they, Gaultier Enterprises, and YatesCorp have already?”

“Yes. I have no idea if it's related to the supersoldier program, or the androids that you've told me about, but it's the first time I've heard of this player. His name is Gustav Drax.”

“That has freaking got to be a made up name.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I haven't been able to find anything on him, so I can't say.”

“Is he an arms dealer?”

“I'd assume so, until proven otherwise.”

“Fabulous. Well, I guess it's good to be forewarned and all that.” Heard what sounded like a really loud motorcycle. The Bentley's soundproofing was good, meaning that either its engine was about to die or we had the mother of all Harleys next to us.

“That's only one thing,” Culver said, as I turned to look at what was indeed a Harley coming up fast. “The other is—”

She was interrupted because Kyle shouted a warning and Len swerved so fast and so hard that she and I were both tossed to the side and down. Which was a good thing, seeing as an arrow hit the seat rest her head had just been leaning against.

My reflexes were fast, and I was used to being under attack. Plus, I'd gotten a glance at the Harley's rider, so had seen it was a blonde chick. So while Len floored it, and Kyle continued to shout at us to get down, I was already on the floor, pulling Culver down there with me.

“Glad the glass is shatterproof. Lillian, are you okay?”

“Yes.” She looked up. “That was intended for me, wasn't it?”

“I think so. Um, were you going to tell me that there's a rogue assassin in town who's a chick who's using a crossbow?”

“Yes, I was. She tried to kill Gideon Cleary earlier today.”

“Yeah, Chuckie saved him.”

“Don McMillan wasn't as lucky.”

My body went cold. “Is he okay?” Senator McMillan was the senior senator from Arizona and someone we all considered one of the few honest politicians out there. And he was a good friend.

“Yes, but only because he still has a soldier's reflexes and intuition. She only winged him.”

“So that's two of our allies, and you make number three.”

“Count us as three through seven, Kitty,” Kyle said. “Because she's following us.”

“Where's Malcolm?”

“Not keeping up,” Len said tightly, as he weaved us in and out of traffic. At least, that was what I assumed he was doing, since Culver and I were sliding back and forth on the floor, hearing a ton of people honking at us and the sound of screeching breaks. “This car's got a lot of power, thank God.”

“Head for somewhere with a lot of security.”

“I'm open to ideas,” Len said.

“Andrews. Get us to the Air Force base.”

“You got it, we're close to the Beltway.”

I could tell when we hit the Beltway because apparently the Bentley had more power than Len had been using on the surface streets. We were going much faster, though still weaving, and I didn't hear nearly as many honking horns.

“She's still in pursuit,” Kyle said. “Andrews is prepped for our arrival.”

But before we could get there I heard a sound. I'd heard the sound before. And it was never a good sound when you were going really fast.

We'd blown a tire.

Other books

Caza letal by Jude Watson
The Golden Eagle Mystery by Ellery Queen Jr.
In the Company of Vampires by Katie MacAlister
Rome in Love by Anita Hughes
Songbird by Sydney Logan
The Devil's Staircase by Helen Fitzgerald
Murder Take Two by Charlene Weir