Alien in the House (49 page)

M
Y FIGHT WITH NAOMI
had taken up a nice chunk of time. We went downstairs, choked some food down, then the others got back to the business of searching for stuff. Oliver and the boys had brought Adriana over from the Romanian Embassy, possibly to help prevent me and Naomi from killing each other, but she was helping dig through our “clues” with good cheer.

Sent another text to Caroline, just out of pathetic optimism. Pathetic optimism was shown to be a sap as the automated response came back. Didn't they even go to the bathroom during these things?

Thusly foiled from getting any in-the-know answers yet again, trotted upstairs to say good-bye to Dad and Jamie. It was still obvious I'd been crying, but Dad didn't mention it and happily, neither did Jamie. She was ready for bed, so I sang her a song using the stuffed eagle, tucked her in, kissed her good night, then changed clothes.

It had been far too many days spent in heels and nice dresses. I was going to a late-night rendezvous and needed to be properly attired. Aerosmith thermal, jeans, and my Converse on, hair pulled back in a ponytail, Glock and clips in my purse along with all the rest of my usual paraphernalia, and I was just about ready to go.

“I need a shorter coat or jacket or whatever. The trench is great, but in case I need to run, I'd like to be able to do so while still staying warm,” I said to the hamper. Backed out of the closet and closed the door. Opened the door and walked back in. There was a nice, shearling-lined, suede jacket—lining was white, suede was black. Maybe it was the Elves who drove the A-Cs' slavish devotion to white and black.

Chose not to ponder. Grabbed the jacket. “Thanks again, you guys rock.”

Gave Dad another hug and kiss and then went back downstairs. My team was ready, White and Raj in their suits and trench coats, Rahmi and Rhee in all black, slacks and sweaters, but no coats. True to expectations and my threats, they both had battle staffs. Where they'd hidden them on arrival, I had no idea, but I was happy to see them tonight.

“You all can take your coats off,” Gower said. “The Kevlar's here.”

“Oh, right.” Had forgotten we were all going decked out. Followed Gower into the salon where our body armor was waiting. “Paul, I count six vests, not five.”

“You count correctly,” he said as he took a vest. “I'm going with you.”

“Um, James expressly told you to stay here.”

“He did. But as the Pontifex, not only am I part of Alpha Team, but it's also my duty to watch over my people. You need me along, and I mean you, specifically, Kitty.”

“Just because I got into a verbal chick fight with your sister doesn't mean you need to be at risk.”

Gower shrugged. “I feel it's important I go, so I'm going.”

Was tempted to ask him what ACE thought, but didn't think he deserved it. Gower wanted to kick butt, I was sure, but maybe he was right. I hadn't lost it like that with someone I liked in a very long time.

“Fine. But I'm in charge on this one.”

Gower grinned. “Kitty, in all the time I've known you, when
haven't
you been in charge?”

“Good point.”

We all went off, changed, and came back. It was hard to tell that anyone was wearing a bulletproof vest, which was the point. Quick discussion about how we were going to get there. Len and Kyle felt we should let them drive us over. Hacker International suggested we use a gate.

“We have more maneuverability if we run,” Raj said. “We all have hyperspeed, so it shouldn't be an issue.”

“Let's get going and get there, then. I don't want to be late.”

“We have plenty of time,” White said.

“Yeah, but I just feel like we need to get going.”

“Maybe you're still upset,” Gower said.

Considered this. “No, actually I feel a lot better. Naomi and I have made up, I had that cry you all wanted me to, I don't feel angry or upset or even tired anymore. I just feel like we urgently need to get to the cemetery, early or not.”

“Then let's go,” Rahmi said. “The leader sets the pace.” Rhee nodded.

“Right, you two are going to flank our Pontifex and keep him safe. And, girls, please remember that you're not killing anyone unless they actively try to hurt one of us or I tell you to, okay? Or one of the men with us needs your help and all that. Got it?” They both nodded. “Good. Then let's go visit the dead.”

Pierre opened the door for us, and we zipped out. White had my hand, but Raj led the way, with the princesses and Gower bringing up the rear. We stayed on the streets—no running over water for us. But it still didn't take very long to get there.

Once in the cemetery, I navigated us back to where I'd been when I'd seen the Dingo last. This took longer than I'd expected it to, but we were still in place well before ten. Raj and Rahmi went off to search for Hidden Assassin Caves and the like, while the rest of us hung around, waiting. Getting here early suddenly seemed really stupid.

Before I could mention that I was sorry we were all freezing our butts off, my phone rang. Dug it out. “Kit-Kat, I have a ton of missed calls and texts from you. What's going on?”

Wanted to ask questions, but figured being polite was probably a nicety we could afford. “Hey, Caro Syrup, how're you feeling?”

“I'm better, Michael took good care of me. But Kit-Kat, we just heard about Ed Brewer. Are you all okay? Is that why you've been trying to reach me?”

“Yeah, well, part of why. We were there. It was . . . pretty horrible, honestly.”

“They're saying he killed himself. He never struck me as the type.”

“He wasn't the type. But we'll let the police do their thing right now.”

“How's his wife?”

“Nathalie's a mess. She's staying with us right now, though.”

“Ah. Is Michael helping take care of her?”

“Um, what? No. He's doing something with and for my mom. Why?”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “I've tried to call him a couple times and he hasn't picked up. I just . . .”

“You were just worried your man was hitting on the widow who happens to be a former international model?”

“Not at all!”

“Pull the other one.”

“Oh, okay, fine. Yes, I was worried.”

“Why? Has Michael been seeing other people?”

“No. Not at all. We see each other a lot, we're exclusive. It's just . . .”

“Caro, you're normally not this non-communicative.”

“I really like him. I mean really. And I'm not sure I should. I mean, he's not ready to stop being a playboy.”

“Um, Caro, all I can say is that you should stop worrying.” Didn't want to give away what Michael had said, but I didn't want her worrying about this, either. “What does the senator think?”

“He thinks Michael's great. He wanted me to go out with him tonight instead of working. But since I can't reach Michael, I might as well work.”

“What are you guys working on? It's Christmas Eve.” Said the person hanging out in a cemetery with five other people, all wearing Kevlar. Yeah, I rocked the Christmas Eve spirit. “I mean, Kelly told me you were in meetings about Armstrong's presidential bid, but two days straight seems kind of excessive.”

“Well, we have a lot going on. There are some bills the Senate's going to be voting on when the new session officially starts. The senator's got a lot of fighting and persuading still to do, and he and Senator Armstrong aren't certain they'll sway enough votes. And the outcome of the votes is going to affect Senator Armstrong's run.”

Interesting new news. “What's on the line?”

“Lots of things to do with the A-Cs. The anti-alien groups have really shoved some crap into things.”

“Why is Armstrong working on this with McMillan? I didn't think they were close. At all.”

“Well, they're the two most pro-A-C senators on the Hill. Didn't you realize that's why they were sitting with you and Jeff at the dinner party?”

“No, I didn't. So why was Edmund Brewer seated with us?”

“For the same reason, just like Santiago Reyes. Representative Brewer was one of the most pro-alien reps out there. Santiago won on the pro-alien ticket.”

Things started to click into place. What a pity I hadn't had this conversation with Caroline two days ago. Reminded myself that I'd tried to have said conversation. Mentioned to myself that I should have chosen to use Kelly's Batphone privileges and would not make that mistake again in the future. Should we have one. “Caro, who are the other pro-alien reps? The influential ones?”

“There are a few, but unfortunately, some of them have passed away in this last year.” Almost asked her why she hadn't told me this before, but remembered that Caroline and Michael had missed Vance's big Reveal on the Rooftop, and Michael had only really gotten up to speed tonight. And Caroline had been paying attention to the senatorial side of this thing, where no one had yet to be killed.

“Name them. Please.”

“Bowers, Holmes, Callahan, Porter, and Delarosa.”

“So, does that mean we have no more pro-alien representatives in the House?”

“Well,” Caroline said with a little laugh. “Jeff's in there now, so there's one for sure.”

“I need to talk to Senator McMillan. Right now.”

“Uh, okay. Hang on.”

Covered the phone while Caroline spoke to McMillan. “Mister White, we need Raj and Rahmi back, pronto. The hell with the Dingo's hideout.” White nodded and pulled out his phone.

“Hello, Ambassador? What can I do for you?”

“The bills you and Armstrong are worried about, there's a line in all of them that's basically saying that no alien can ever go against any U.S. law and such, correct?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Long story we have no time for. There are bills just like those going through the House.”

“Yes. I heard Caroline's side of your conversation. She listed most of those in the House who were planning to use their influence to get those bills shot down or returned to committee.”

“Right, they're all dead. Which of all of them was the most influential? Holmes?”

“Well, I'd say that Wendell was, yes. But Edmund Brewer was as well. He was a junior congressman, but he had a good ability to sway. And he was hugely pro-alien. You've lost a good friend in more ways than one today.”

“Yeah, I'm picking that up. He didn't kill himself, by the way. So, Caroline didn't sound like you all think the Senate's going to shoot down those anti-alien bills.”

“There are less of us, but not all constituents in all states feel comfortable with the new world order. There's quite a lot of clamor for restrictions, if you will.”

“Those aren't restrictions, though. Those are laws that will force the A-Cs into slavery to the government.”

“I agree. It's why I oppose them, as does Senator Armstrong.”

“If they pass, the President could veto. What happens if he does?”

“If they pass in the first place, they'll probably pass again to overturn the veto. It would be very bad for the President, either way, honestly. If he doesn't veto, he's lost the trust and support of all of the A-Cs. If he does veto, he's going against the wishes of the majority of the country. At least that's how it'll be spun in the media.”

“If they pass, the A-Cs will have to leave the U.S., if not the planet.” Because I wouldn't let them stay, and neither would the rest of the leadership.

“Well, that's better than it could be, honestly.”

“Really? What's a worse option than exile?”

McMillan was quiet for a moment. “War.”

“S
ENATOR,
I need to ask you three questions.”

“Go ahead.”

“First off, the other representatives that are dead, are they all pro-alien in some way?”

“Honestly, no. At least as many virulently anti-alien representatives have passed away, and there were many undecided or neutral also who we've lost in this year.”

“Interesting. Secondly, is there any one person who could influence enough of the House and Senate to ensure that these bills die without issue?”

“Lillian Culver. Her clients are incredibly influential, so her views hold great sway.”

Awesome. My best option to save the day was Joker Jaws. Did it get any better than this? Sources said that it probably did. “Don't tell me, let me guess—Guy Gadoire would be number two on the sway list, wouldn't he?”

“Why do you think Senator Armstrong spends time with them?”

“You don't.”

“I do when I need to make certain things happen.” Well, at least I could comfort myself that precedent had been set in the arena of Making Pacts with the Devil.

“I'm just going to spitball it here and bet that Culver and Gadoire are being coy about using any influence on this issue, right?”

He sighed. “Right.”

Of course right. They weren't idiots; they were really damned good at their jobs. And that meant that what they wanted was for one of us—me, Jeff, Reader, Gower—to ask them for help.

“Okay, here's my third official question. Where is the nearby holding facility that no normal person knows about that's both underground, very secure, and where the P.T.C.U. and the C.I.A. and lord knows who else store their very special prisoners?”

“Why?”

“I need to find someone who's there, and it has no cell phone reception.” Took the guess because Caroline had been calling Michael and he hadn't answered. “And I think I need to find them urgently.”

“Well, your clearance could be high enough. I'd check but it's Christmas Eve so I'm going to assume it is and if I'm wrong, oh, dear.”

“Works for me.”

“The facility is in the Pentagon.”

So much for the idea that I'd get a hold of Mom, Jeff, or anyone else on that team. I was willing to storm the castle if we had to, but the six of us breaking into the Pentagon's underground prisoner vault seemed wildly unwise. “Thank you. One more bonus round question, please.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know who's influenced the anti-alien wording in all these bills? Is it one person or a group or does everyone just really fear us this much?”

“There's no one specific group that's leading the charge, though of course there are always those who are more vocal. The Secretary of Transportation is very anti and he's barely hiding it. Because of his relationship with her Chief Aide, the Secretary of State is on the fence, but leaning toward getting the A-Cs under a firmer level of control.”

“Wonderful. Anyone else?”

“Well, Senator Kramer isn't doing any of you any favors, and neither is Senator Montgomery. They aren't anti, per se, but whenever they're discussing the A-Cs, somehow you all come off sounding like loose cannons with absolutely no regard for the safety of those around you.”

“I'm confused. All these people are friends with each other, and friends with the Armstrongs, and were friends with the Brewers. How is it that they can hang when they're diametrically opposed on a big issue? And don't give me the old ‘politics makes strange bedfellows' answer. I got that enough from Armstrong.”

“Before you were exposed as being here, you were a force to be manipulated, and everyone wanted in on that.”

“Right. Everyone wants to control the X-Men or the Hulk.”

“Correct. Now that you're outed, you're able to openly tip the balance of power, and that means that you yourselves have great power. Some, like Senator Armstrong and the late Representative Brewer, were excited by the possibilities of what could be achieved. Some, like the Secretary of Transportation, were worried about the power they could lose.”

Two people appeared out of the shadows. “Okay, thank you, Senator. I have to go now, but I really appreciate you clearing things up for me. And thank you for fighting for us.”

“I don't mind the fighting, but I do mind losing. I truly pray we don't lose this particular battle.”

“Will do my best to ensure that we don't.”

We hung up and I waved to the Dingo and Surly Vic. “Nice to see you. Need your help.”

The Dingo looked around. “You have come with more than I expected.” He didn't sound happy.

“It's a compliment because I know you two are just that good. Everyone, raise your hands so the Dingo can see you're not armed.”

“They're holding staffs,” Surly Vic pointed at Rahmi and Rhee.

“They are. You're both wearing high-powered semiautomatics. You just let me know the day staffs are faster than bullets and then I'll apologize for all of two of us having weapons. We're under attack, guys, and we can't really afford to be pussyfooting around with people we can supposedly trust not to harm us.”

The Dingo nodded. “Fine. Let's ensure this meeting is swift.”

“Absodamnlutely. Look, I have a ton of questions and you probably won't want to answer all of them, but we're running out of time and I honestly don't know what to do.”

“Yes, you want me to be Sherlock Holmes.”

“I do, I really do. Okay, gang, gather round, because I'm going to update our friends here on what I just learned and I want to avoid having to say it twice.” My team came closer, though Rahmi and Rhee stood a little apart, keeping watch. “Someone's killing off people in the House of Representatives at the same time as there are a lot of anti-alien clauses that have been shoved into every bill going up for vote, in both the House and the Senate.”

“The Senate, too?” Gower asked, sounding as worried as I felt.

“Yes, and Senator McMillan isn't feeling confident that the pro-alien faction is going to win the day on his side of Congress. He wasn't as worried about the House, because we used to have a lot of really strong supporters with a lot of influence there. As of today, they're all dead, other than my husband, and he's alive only by chance. He was shot in the middle of the street.”

“We did not try to kill him,” Surly Vic said.

“Neither did Raul,” the Dingo added. “Word is that the shooter was a woman.”

“Maybe that's why Pia was killed,” Raj said to me. “She failed to kill two targets.”

“I've got a better bet, and she's going by the name of Dier. Maybe she wasn't really serving the water at our dinner party to help or hinder Brewer's attempted murder and Santiago's real one. Maybe she was there so she'd know exactly what Jeff and I looked like.”

“It's a common enough technique,” the Dingo allowed. “And Bernice was very fond of getting close to her victims before killing them.”

“Yeah, believe me, I remember. So Raul's found another chick with the same can-do, people person attitude.”

“It is very likely,” the Dingo said. “But I cannot believe this is why you wanted to meet with me.”

“Nope, still just catching you up on the latest that is My So-Called Normal Life. Okay, so here's the thing—there are a lot more people dead in the House than just the six really pro-alien ones. We have almost two dozen dead and gone, including some very anti-alien representatives. Oh, and my team, based on my most recent phone call, I think Santiago was always on the kill list.”

“You're sure?” Gower asked.

“We'll get the details for why later, Paul,” White said. “For now, we'll assume Missus Martini is right. Please go on.”

“Thanks. And, with this new information, I don't know that Jeff or I are really part of what's going on. I sincerely think Raul is combining business with pleasure.”

“Again, we know he's here to kill you,” the Dingo said. “He may have an assignment, but you are not that assignment.”

“Gotcha, we are taking me and Jeff out of the equation for the moment then and just focusing on everyone who's actually dead. So, I get why our enemies would kill off the people who are pro-alien. They want some or all of these bills to pass, so legislation is put in place that forces us to become virtual slaves, leave, or declare war. What I don't understand is why you'd kill off the people who want to pass those bills.”

The Dingo looked thoughtful. “Is that all?”

“No. I need to know why someone wanted Edmund Brewer killed so publicly. If, as said, we're removing me and Jeff from the picture, all the others were done so well they looked like natural deaths or legitimate accidents. And today, they set up Brewer's death to look like a suicide, complete with a note.”

“Does he have family?” the Dingo asked.

“Yes, but we took his wife with us, so the murder-suicide option was removed from the Bad Guy Playbook. And that would have flown because, two days ago, they both publicly admitted that he knew she'd had an affair. So a very believable fight, a dead ‘cheating' wife, a suicide of remorse.”

Surly Vic looked kind of impressed. “That would be a good option to remove witnesses and ensure a message is sent.”

“I think the message is ‘I want a lot of people dead.' But the first attempt at murdering Edmund Brewer wasn't like any of these. Eugene Montgomery was trying to poison Brewer, and it seems like happenstance that Santiago Reyes died instead. Only, Raul and his female partner were on the scene. We've got a good guess now for why she was there. But why was Raul there? Was it just to get me? I don't think so, because Raul killed Eugene and we're pretty sure the shot was meant to take out both of us. He shot about a minute too late, though, after Eugene had given me some information I'm sure our enemies didn't want me to have.”

“The delay was because of us,” the Dingo said. “He was able to shoot because of your sister and your friend.”

“So, he knows you're here?” Raj asked.

Surly Vic nodded. “Again, because of the two women.”

“They're really sorry and won't do it again. So, do you have any guess, any guess at all, as to why Eugene was set up to kill Brewer at my dinner party, in front of tons of people, so that Eugene would be caught and convicted of the crime? Everything else that's going on makes some kind of logical sense, but that doesn't, any more than killing off your own supporters seems like a sane move.”

“How varied were the causes of death?” the Dingo asked.

“We think there was probably more than one person doing the assassinations,” Raj said quickly. Took that to mean he didn't want me to share the Master and Apprentice theory with our friends the assassins. Pity.

“We've been told there's one Mastermind out there who's cooked up almost every conspiracy and related theory since the nineteen sixties. We believe that this person has passed on their evil wisdom to an Apprentice, who becomes the Mastermind when the other dies.”

“Like the Sith?” Surly Vic asked.

“Yes!”
Star Wars
was truly omnipresent worldwide.

“I could believe it,” he said. “The C.I.A. is very involved in many bad things.”

“Speaking of which, Esteban Cantu, Master or Apprentice?”

“If he was the Master then his Apprentice has taken over, because he is not accessible,” the Dingo said calmly. “And believe me, we would like access to him, because the price on his head is quite high. He is an open assignment—whoever has Proof of Death will receive payment.”

Tried not to worry about Mom and Jeff and the others going to visit the guy who had the Assassins' Open Season sign on his forehead. Failed.

“As for the others,” the Dingo said, “if you are correct and there is competition for a slot, while at the same time there is the desire to ensure no one is aware you are killing specific people, then random selection would enter.”

“Random selection?” Rhee asked. Apparently Amazons had great hearing.

The Dingo nodded. “You choose a set of victims for each contender. You put one or two of your truly desired candidates into each group.”

“Ensuring, of course, that each candidate does not know your true identity,” Surly Vic added. “Otherwise, you risk too much exposure.”

“This method allows you to test your recruits' ability to follow orders while proving their loyalty to you. You are able to see if they are skilled enough to ensure the authorities consider the deaths accidental or natural, and if they are not successful here, they are the ones who the authorities arrest. And you remove your enemies at the same time.” The Dingo said all of this like he was outlining how to best prep for the after-Christmas sales.

“They've killed almost two dozen people.”

Surly Vic shrugged. “We have more than two dozen enemies. So do you. If the Mastermind is any good, so does he. So he used this test to remove many enemies at once, both for this plan and for others. If he
is
the Mastermind, then this plan makes much sense and becomes even more efficient.”