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Authors: Gini Koch

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BOOK: Alien in Chief
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CHAPTER 42

O
F COURSE,
I had Ginger and Bruno and the six guys attacking me did not.

Bruno attacked one near to me and Ginger took another one. Both of them were screaming really nasty things in Peregrine and ocellar. I agreed with their sentiments.

Decided to go for what kung fu I could manage and slid into a crouch while sweeping the legs of the guy in front of me. The two dudes next to him were too busy being mauled by my Attack Pets to help out, but the three guys behind them weren't.

One grabbed the guy I'd knocked over and they both headed for me. The other two went to help their pals and tried to club Ginger and Bruno.

This pissed me off to no end, and while I was doing my kung fu moves like a champ, they weren't enough. These guys were trained. On the plus side, none of them had guns, which made sense, since they were clearly here to be stealthy, and nothing shows where an invisible person is quite like a gunshot and the related smoke that comes with it.

On the not plus side, they had knives, nasty looking ones, too. Though most of them weren't using them. Most. Two of the guys coming for me pulled their knives out—apparently they were sporting when their adversary couldn't see them, but not when said adversary could. Lucky me.

I landed a hit that should have knocked one guy into the other but merely made him gasp and stagger a little. Either he'd taken Surcenthumain—always a possibility—or he'd been training for how to handle a punch from someone with extra strength.

Got the proverbial bad feeling. We were all outnumbered and apparently they were far more prepped for us than we were for them. And as I dodged and leaped and did my best to keep from getting cut or worse, I realized that these guys looked more than generally familiar—I was pretty sure some of them were the same guys I'd dealt with in Bizarro World.

That should have given me confidence, but in that world I'd been Wonder Woman, and I'd had Cox, Alfred and all his toys, and even Esteban Cantu to help me. Here, while I had more people, none of them could see who we really needed to be fighting.

My music changed to “Battle Born” from the Killers. “Thanks, Algar,” I said under my breath. He was right—I'd fought like this plenty before Jamie had been born. It was just time to use all the human skills instead of relying only on brute force and hyperspeed.

Focused some on what Christopher had taught me, but more on what I'd learned from my human kung fu teachers: Use your opponent's strength against them.

Hyperspeed or no, I was a sprinter, and that meant I was faster than these guys. Plus I'd brought a gun to a knife fight.

I hit another crouch—it gave me less wind resistance and a lower center of gravity. Then I aimed for the nearest guy to me with a knife out and shot at his leg.

He shouted and collapsed. I ripped his goggles off him, feeling rather nostalgic for Operation Civil War all of a sudden, then hit him with a side kick to the gunshot area.

He was writhing and a set of hyperspeed kicks shoved him and his knife over the side. Nice blending of all my skills, go me.

One of them grabbed at me but I did a somersault and then, since I was heading toward Reader, kept rolling and knocked the guy he was fighting away.

Shoved the goggles at Reader. “Put these on!” Then I flipped into the sprinter's blocks position and took off, running at the guys who were fighting with Ginger.

Slammed into the one holding her. He lost his grip and she went flying. Tried to get into a position where I could catch her, but the other guy grabbed me. However, Bruno gave a gigantic squawk, broke free, and flew to catch her.

He got her just in time and they landed at the far end of the car, so behind Reader and Tim.

Which was great for them. Of course, I was in some guy's arms, my back to his chest, he had my feet off the ground, and he was squeezing me at least as tightly as Jeff could when he was having an adrenaline reaction. Well, at least he wasn't trying to slit my throat, this moment's definition of damning with faint praise.

“Battle Born” was on repeat and I still had my Glock, so I did my best to shoot down to hit his foot. Missed, but I caused him to have to jump around a lot and I was able to slip out of his grip.

That clip was out, so I tossed the gun back into my purse as he grabbed me again. This time he didn't try to hold me. Instead he tossed me toward the side, with clear intent to throw me off the train. Couldn't blame him—that was certainly my game plan.

Managed to grab his arm as he was letting go, meaning he was sailing off the side with me. Against logic and clearly due to panic, he grabbed at me, meaning we were going to romantically go splat together. This was nowhere on my Top Ten Ways To Die list.

“Kitty needs help!” I shouted as we flew off and things moved in slow motion the way they do when you're really sure you're going to die.

Reader had goggles on, but Tim didn't, and they were
back to fighting six guys bigger than them. Bruno and Ginger were too far away to do anything, and they were even farther than White and Falk, who were running toward us.

The guy I was flying off into what might have been farmland but probably wasn't was screaming. Grabbed at his goggles, mostly so that if anyone on my side found my body they'd catch on and look through the goggles. There was no guarantee that Reader wasn't going to be flying off the train in a minute, too, after all.

Got the goggles and this separated us for whatever reason, though him flailing around in panic probably had something to do with it, as well. All this had taken roughly two seconds.

But I recognized him. He was definitely one of the commandos I'd known in Bizarro World. Good to know he was still open to the highest bidder. Just wished I knew which one had paid him. But not nearly as much as I wished not to hit the ground. And not even close to as much as I wished to not land on or even near any snakes.

He hit the ground with exactly the horrible splat sound I'd expected. But I didn't. Oh, I hit something, but it wasn't ground. Or, thank the good lord, a snake. It was big and fluffy and growling.

“Poofikins!” Hugged the Poof as I started to slide off. But my Poof didn't let me. Instead, it bounced, as if it was one of those big inflatable rubber balls that kids used to hop around on when I was really little.

I had no handle to grip, so I grabbed fur. Poofikins didn't seem to mind. The Poof bounced and bounded and then tossed me onto the train.

I slammed into two of the guys fighting with Tim. The force sent them sliding, but Tim managed to grab me before I flew off again.

“Thanks, Tim, nice catch. Put on these goggles. Grab goggles from the bad guys before you shove them off the train if you can.”

“I'll worry about finesse when I don't think we're all going to die.” He put the goggles on as instructed. And jumped in time to avoid being body-slammed. I grabbed the guy's ankle and he lost his balance and fell on his face. Used his body to pull myself more firmly onto the middle of the roof. Slammed my elbow into the back of his head, which slammed his face hard into the roof. He stopped moving.

Falk and White were over by us now, but a few more snakes dropped onto the roof and I was far too busy screaming to welcome them politely to this part of the party. On the plus side, that seemed to freak out some of the commandos. A few of the commandos even broke their invisibility cover and screamed along with me. Almost felt bad for them when White and Falk tossed them off the train. Into what I was sure was more snakes. That'd teach them to Side With Evil.

Thankfully Ginger handled all of the snakes, Bruno handled Ginger Relocation Services and Peregrine In Yo Faceness, and the rest of us were too busy fighting and grabbing goggles for me to worry about any snakes that weren't in my immediate vicinity.

Finally our car roof was cleared of human and slithery adversaries and we all had goggles on. “As you can now see, we have a lot of people on top of this train who are cloaked in some way. Let's get their goggles, toss them off, and help the rest of the gang, shall we?”

“This is new,” Reader said, sounding worried. “No one has cloaking tech for individual humans.”

“That we know of,” Tim amended.

“Dudes, trust me and your eyes now that you have the special goggles on—someone has this tech and is using us as their case study.”

“Let's get this situation locked down,” Falk said. “Then we'll worry about what's going on.”

“Party pooper. Tim, where are the flyboys, by the way? I thought they'd be here.”

“I have no idea,” Tim admitted. “We've been too busy for me to make any calls.”

“And, Mister White, why are you and Burton here instead of up front?”

“Because the helicopter lowered and those two got away, just as the first two did, Missus Martini.”

“Where's Nerida?” I asked.

Right as water hit me in the back.

CHAPTER 43

T
URNED AROUND.
“Oh, there she is.” We were near water—dirty, probably snake-filled water, but water, nonetheless—and she had clearly recovered.

Nerida was doing the bending thing where she was waving her hands around, meaning she was gathering more water from somewhere. “You guys help the others. Ginger and Bruno, that includes you. I'll handle the water witch. I'd love Mahin's backup, though, if it's at all available.”

Then I charged.

Slammed into her just like last time, and, just like last time, I knocked her down and onto her back. All her hand waving ceased. Go me.

Slammed her head against the metal. “Where the hell did you get all the grunts from? Minions Unlimited?”

She flipped me off of her, but fortunately I was able to stay roughly in the middle of the roof. She also looked around. And then looked puzzled. “You all like fighting with nothing, don't you?”

“We're fighting all the people you brought along to help you on your latest insane quest.” Got to my feet and debated if I should charge again or not. My music changed to “Long Train Runnin'” by the Doobie Brothers. Had a feeling this meant I was supposed to either get to the engine or the caboose. White had thought he'd seen Annette Dier at
the back of the train. The hell with Nerida and the engine—I was probably needed in the rear.

Nerida looked confused, and even more confused as I backed away then spun around. Didn't bother to see if she was still staring at me or not—it was time to stop whatever Dier had going on.

White, Falk, Reader, and Tim were assisting Lorraine, Claudia, and Abigail, who were on the next car over. Spotted Mahin one car away, fighting back-to-back with Adriana. Decided they needed my help with the nine commandos they were holding off more than those on this car who were now evenly matched.

As I ran past and through the fighting, noted Reader breaking one of the bad guy's necks, Falk and Tim two-manning one of the larger minions and flinging him over the side, and White getting goggles to the girls, who were managing to land hits even though they couldn't see who or what they were hitting. They were all good.

Didn't see Bruno and Ginger. Had a moment's worry that they'd been hurt, but then reminded myself that they'd been gone earlier and had returned. Besides, I had more fighting I needed to focus on.

Hurdled onto the next car and did my by now patented slamming into the nearest person move. Happily, it was still working for me and I knocked the guy away from Mahin. Kept moving and ripped his goggles off, shoved them at her, and slammed into the next guy. I was going to ache all over when this was done, but at least I now knew I had an alternate career in the WWE's Ladies' Division.

Unsurprisingly, Adriana was the most effective “blind” fighter I'd seen so far. She seemed unperturbed to be fighting people she couldn't see, and she had bodies down. Grabbed the goggles off their heads and got a pair to her.

While she put them on and Metallica's “Fight Fire with Fire” came on my personal airwaves, I enjoyed some nostalgia and used several of my favorite kung fu forms, including
my beloved Crane Opens a Can O' Whupass. It was amazing how fun that one was to do at hyperspeed.

“Interesting,” she said the moment the goggles were on. “Let's finish this.” So saying, she and I did what we'd done before—we ganged up on the nearest minion. She went high, I went low, and he went off the side, his goggles in Adriana's hand.

Mahin wasn't using any of her bending that I could tell. However, she was kicking butt anyway, so maybe she just didn't want to expend the effort. In what seemed like a short time, we had this car's minions down or out, depending.

“Mahin, are you able to counter Nerida, the water bending chick. She's—”

“Getting off.” Mahin pointed up. The helicopter was back, and Nerida was on its rope ladder.

“Why are they leaving?” I asked no one in particular. “Technically, they're still winning.”

“No idea,” Adriana said. “However, from what I can now see, we're still outnumbered.”

Looked at the remaining cars. The next two had Field and Secret Service agents on both. And a lot of commandos.

But the caboose had Rahmi and Rhee—and Annette Dier.

“Well, let's lower those opposing numbers, then. You guys need to help the agents on the next cars. And I need to help Rahmi and Rhee. Just try to keep a couple of them around—we need to figure out how they're using the cloaking tech.”

As I said this the others joined us. Nodded to Adriana, who nodded back. Then I took off again.

It was a credit to their training and skills that the princesses had Dier blocked and were keeping her essentially in one place. It was a credit to Dier's skills that she was neither down nor out.

The three of them were doing some impressive moves—leaping, jumping, staff hits, staff avoidance moves—but it
was clear they were in a standoff. Which shouldn't have been possible, since Dier was human. I suspected that—whether the commandos had dosed or not—she'd had a Surcenthumain cocktail.

There were commando bodies on this roof. The staffs the princesses used glowed at the ends, and those ends could slice through bone, let alone flesh. There was a lot of blood and such up here, too, but not nearly as much as you'd expect. The staff's lasers or whatever they were cauterized while slicing and dicing.

Dier didn't have a scratch on her, more was the definite pity. The princesses didn't either. But all three of them were fighting furiously, so it wasn't from lack of trying on anyone's part.

Pulled my Glock out, put in a new clip, and then aimed at Dier's head. “Stop fighting or I'll do what I've wanted to for a long time.”

She glared at me, but she stopped. The princesses blocked her with their staffs, so that she couldn't make an easy escape. “You can try. But your chances of hitting them are high.”

“Maybe. Your pals have all taken off.”

“I'll be taking off soon, too. And you'll let me go.”

“Why will I do that?”

She looked up. Humored her and looked up as well. To see the helicopter hovering up above us. Kellogg, Kozlow, Dear Sam, and Lowe were strapped and leaning out. All of them had big guns. Aimed at me and everyone else on top.

“Because you don't have a choice,” Dier said smugly.

Looked back at her. “They're just going to shoot us anyway. I might as well get some revenge for my friends and family and kill you now.”

“Ah, but if you do that, then they'll certainly kill some if not all of your remaining friends and family on this train, and possibly you, too.” She shrugged. “But, if you let me go, we'll let you call it a draw for this round. You have my word. And I don't give that lightly.”

Contemplated my options. They sucked. I lowered my gun. “Fine. Girls, let the murderous bitch go.”

The princesses moved off. Unwillingly, but they did it. Dier nodded to me. “You're showing a great deal of maturity and wisdom.”

“Don't mistake it for personal growth.”

She waved and the helicopter lowered. “Oh, I don't, never fear.”

“So what was this all about? You do all this to set up that meet and greet with us and the heads of the Church of Hate and Intolerance and Club Fifty-One?”

She shot me a derisive look. “Hardly. We didn't give that message to the media. We couldn't care less about those idiots, and we have no intention of turning ourselves in. Ever.”

As the rope ladder dropped down, I quickly tossed out another question. “What about Huntress and the rest of your minions on the train?”

She looked at me and this time her expression was confused. “I have no idea who Huntress is, and whoever all of you were fighting, I have no idea who they are,
if
they are, or if you're all not just crazy.”

“What, you thought we were all having a rave up here or trying to bring back vogueing?”

“I put nothing past you people.” She grabbed the rope ladder.

“Where's Stephanie?”

She rolled her eyes. “Who knows? Who cares?” And with that, the helicopter rose up and flew off.

BOOK: Alien in Chief
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