Universal Alien (43 page)

W
ELL,
I rolled standing up.

Flipped myself into a standing forward roll and threw my helmet at Bernie's head. Kicked the gun down and out of LaRue's hand. Landed on the gun, hard, crouched down, and slammed my elbow up into Cliff's groin. As he buckled, grabbed the Death Ray nozzle and turned it back toward the machine itself. But I couldn't figure out how to trigger the ray. My helmet hit Bernie square in the face and slammed her back into the TV wall.

As all this went on, Cantu fired at Raul at the same time Raul fired at him. Wanted a Glock. Remembered I had knives my purse. Grabbed one in each hand. Stabbed a knife into Cliff's chest while I did a spinning low kick and knocked LaRue off her feet. At the same time, Alfred followed my lead and slammed his helmet into Raul's head, then ran, knives at the ready, and cut Chuckie, Reader, and Buchanan loose.

Cox and Stripes were also reacting, but they looked like they were moving in slow motion compared to Alfred and even slower compared to me because I was going so fast. Cox headed toward Cantu. The trajectory and size of Raul's bullet meant that Cox and Cantu both were going to be shot.

I was crouched down now as if I was in sprinter's blocks right before a race. Dropped the other knife and launched myself, aiming between Cox and Cantu, arms wide. Hit them both in their midsections and took them down as the bullet sailed harmlessly into the wall.

Well, sort of harmlessly. The bullet hit a machine, and that machine blew steam out, big time. This created the creepy atmosphere this entire scenario had so been missing.

Flipped into a crouch and took in what I could of the scene. Cantu had missed Raul and hit a TV screen. My men were engaging in hand-to-hand with the three male assassins. Stripes was on Bernie's face, yowling, clawing, and biting. Alfred had freed the kids and had them behind him. And LaRue was up, with the Death Ray nozzle in her hand. I was pretty sure she knew how to turn it on.

“You shouldn't have done that,” she snarled. “I was willing to let you live.”

“But only if I agreed to let you clone me.” Stood up and moved nearer to the back of the Death Ray machine. If she was focused on me, she couldn't hit anyone else. Noted there was another pipe that attached in to the bottom of the frame and connected to the machines behind it. Had no idea what this meant for me in terms of stopping anything.

The men hadn't stopped fighting, but LaRue ignored them. Which was too bad, seeing as she missed Buchanan, Reader, and Chuckie all twist Sanchez, Lopez, and Raul's necks farther than necks were meant to twist, pretty much in unison. Wondered if they practiced that, or if Mom's team here had just been the gold medalists in the Synchronized Neck Breaking competition.

Bernie was still alive, however, and as she got up, screaming, she threw Stripes off of her. Who twisted midair, claws out, and landed on LaRue's head, yowling the cat version of “yippee-ki-yay mofo” at the top of his cat lungs.

I didn't hesitate. Ran forward and grabbed the Death Ray nozzle, too. LaRue was strong, but I was stronger. As Bernie tried to shoot at me, Buchanan repeated history, at least for me, grabbed Sanchez's gun, and shot Bernie in the head. I would have applauded, but my hands were full.

Cliff lurched up, knife still sticking out of his chest. “Kill . . . them all,” he gasped out as he grabbed at me. “Do it now.”

“Kitty, if the nozzle hits the thermal core, it will self-destruct,” Alfred shouted.

“What?” As if I could tell where the thermal core was. “Alfred, get everyone up those stairs and out of here!”

“Slam the nozzle into the big round ball in the middle,” Chuckie translated. Thanked God that in any and all universes he spoke Kitty.

Heard glass break and then a clanging sound and risked a look. Cox had broken the “In Case of Fire” case open, grabbed the ax, and was slamming it onto the pipe on the floor, the one that connected the Death Ray to the machines.

“No!” Cliff shouted, as he let go of me and ran around the Death Ray. He pulled the knife out of his chest as he bore down on Cox, who wasn't paying attention to anything but the pipe he was chopping.

“Bill!” I could not watch Cox die again, I just couldn't.

Cox, hearing me shout, swung around, ax in hand. The ax, thanks to its handle, was a lot longer than Cliff's arms. And, thanks to how Cox had been holding it and was spinning, the blade was at just the right height when it connected with Cliff's neck.

Apparently it hadn't been dulled by hitting the pipe.

“Whoa!” That was shouted by everyone who was watching, LaRue and myself included, as Cliff's head bounced off the machine and, this being my life, ricocheted into Cantu. Who, to his great credit, didn't scream. At least until he caught the head automatically. Then he screamed like a banshee as he threw it across the room and out onto the Underground Path of Potential Doom. Heard an explosion, meaning Cliff's head had landed on a pressure plate.

Alfred took all of this as a clear sign to finally listen to me and leave. He ran the kids upstairs and was back in a flash to grab Buchanan and Reader, who just managed to grab Chuckie. They all disappeared as well.

In this same time period of approximately two seconds, Cox neither screamed nor ran. He just spun around and slammed his now bloody ax back onto the pipe. Cliff's body landed against the wall with all the machines and sprayed blood on them. Things started to sound like they were shorting out and this distracted LaRue just a bit.

Took the opportunity and did what Alfred and Chuckie had told me to—I shoved the Death Ray nozzle against the metal sphere. Just as LaRue undistracted herself and activated the beam.

I let go and flipped the hyperspeed up to well past eleven. Grabbed Stripes by the scruff of his neck and pulled him off LaRue's head, spun, and ran for Cantu. Shoved Stripes at Cantu's chest while I grabbed his arm. The cat was smart, and dug his claws into Cantu's clothes. Based on the look of pain starting to come onto Cantu's face, Stripes probably had his claws in skin, too.

Didn't pause, because Cantu had proved that he had a good catching reflex, and that meant he was going to hold onto Stripes. Grabbed Cox in mid-swing. The impact caused him to let go of the ax. Would have looked to have seen where it went, but sprinters who looked behind them lost their races.

Ran us up the stairs faster than I could blink. Could have sworn I saw something fluffy going past me but turning to look was still not in the cards. No one was in the garage, which was good. I was faster than the SUV could ever be, so I kept on moving. A wall was broken out, meaning I had a good idea of where Alfred had run. Went that way, too.

Got outside and to the far wall as the ground under us rumbled. Ran us past the wall and to where I could see the rest of our group was as the ground started to crumble down in an implosion worthy of a Spielberg movie.

Stopped running when we reached the others and did a fast head count. All accounted for, cat included. Took Stripes from Cantu and cuddled him, then handed him to Cox. Spun around to see the entire complex go down as if it was being sucked into the bowels of the earth. Readied myself to grab everyone and run, but while the outer wall and the tree went down, the cave-in stopped well away from us.

Realized that the speeders were going to go down, too. Grabbed Alfred and took off. We reached the area they'd been in just in time. He hit something and they appeared. He grabbed one, I picked up two, and we ran them back, as the ground slipped away behind us almost as fast as we were running.

But not quite. Reached the others and put the speeders down. Alfred fiddled with them, but since the immediate danger was over, I took the opportunity, grabbed the kids, and checked them for injuries. Realized I was still moving at hyperspeed by the confused looks on their faces and the panicked look on Chuckie's.

Alfred put his hand on my shoulder. I could feel him slowing me down. “It's okay, Kitty,” he said. “Everyone's here, everyone's alright.”

Let myself slow down and hugged the kids tightly, but not too tight. Then got up and hugged Chuckie. After a long hug, let go and hugged Reader, then Buchanan. And then asked the question, praying the answer wouldn't make me cry. “What happened to everyone else at the embassy?”

“They're safe,” Buchanan said. Let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. “The underground room we were in last night doubles as their bunker. Everyone got in and the doors locked in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time for the embassy to be bombed to bits,” Reader said. “But your dad, Carla, Peter, and Caroline are all safe. They were inside the bunker.”

“Why weren't the six of you inside said bunker?”

“Well,
I
was searching for you,” Chuckie said. “As were some others.” He looked at the boys. Charlie looked like he knew he was in trouble, but Max looked defiant.

“She was gone, and we couldn't leave her,” Max said. “And Stripes was gone, too.”

“I left a note.”

“I was awakened by the sounds of bombs exploding,” Chuckie said dryly. “I didn't stop to read. I had Jamie, and thought I had Charlie and Max. But when we got into the corridor, each one went a different way.”

“Charlie ran into us,” Reader said. “So we had Leah, Oren, and Jakob get the others downstairs. Charlie refused to go without his siblings, parents, and cat, and by refused I mean he thrashed and kicked.”

“I'm sorry, Uncle James,” Charlie said quietly.

Reader shot him the cover boy smile. “It's okay. Now. But by the time Buchanan had caught Max, we were blocked from the bunker by six well-armed commandos. We could let them take us or kill us. We let them take us.”

“Which they did,” Buchanan said. “We got to watch them turn the embassy to rubble and then we were all knocked out. I came to partway here, and I can guarantee we came here in a Sherpa.” Opened my mouth. “It's a military aircraft used to transport personnel. I think it's probably housed at Patrick Air Force Base.” Which tracked with my assumption that Cliff had used his C.I.A. clearance there.

“Hang on. Six commandos . . .” Looked at Cantu, who looked like he'd been hit in the gut. Really wished Jeff was here. I needed to know if this man was just remarkably stupid and/or unlucky, or if he was waiting to take over as the Mastermind.

“From what I could tell, you came in with them,” Chuckie said. “We thought you'd been captured, too.”

“Well, I'm happy they're buried in the rubble, but now, Esteban, that leaves us with a mystery.”

“I had no idea,” he said. He sounded pissed and horrified and as if he was telling the truth. But I needed to be sure.

“Is Cantu here your boss?” I asked Chuckie.

Who nodded. “Yes, he is. Goodman made me call him, to get him down here. I know why you're suspicious, Kitty, and I can't blame you. But Goodman was waiting to get Cantu down with us and kill all of us at one time.”

“Why?” Cox asked.

“To get rid of all his enemies before he took over the world,” Reader said. “Literally. Guy was as insane as a typical Bond villain.”

“You called that one,” Cox said to me.

“Who are you? Jeff?” Chuckie sounded pissed off and jealous.

“Wow, dude, no. This is Lieutenant Commander William Cox of the U.S. Navy. You need to get over the whole jealousy thing. Seriously, I know the bad guys were baiting you and all, but did you really think I'd left the embassy to go have a tryst?”

He heaved a sigh. “No, honestly, I didn't. I'm sorry.”

“When she gets back, you two really need to work on this.”

“She can't,” Jamie said in a little voice. “The mad ladies said our house . . . our house was blown up?”

Picked her up and hugged her. “Yes, it was. Just like the embassy. I'm sorry. I know that means everyone's lost all their things. But the things that matter are the people and the animals. And as far as I know, we're all alright.”

“But Mommy can't come home,” Jamie said, lower lip trembling. “I can't see me now, and if I can't see me, I can't see her, and if I can't see her, I can't help.”

The realization of what Jamie meant would have been more upsetting if I hadn't heard a sound I was really familiar with—the sound of a big gun being cocked.

Turned around slowly to see LaRue standing there somehow. With the gun I'd left in the alligator enclosure in her hands.

She looked like crap, but she was alive and apparently well. “The Z'Porrah were right,” she said. “The only good naked ape is a dead naked ape.”

I didn't think about it. I tossed Jamie toward Chuckie and ran straight for LaRue. She fired. And she hit me.

M
Y MIDDLE FINGERS
up and pointed right at the PM was, of course, photographic gold for the press. Not that it mattered at this point. I left the PM couple gaping at me and went back to the press. “You get one more chance. Give me the film. You can keep the shots of me flipping everyone off, but not of my daughter.”

“Too bad, too sad,” one shared.

“Uh huh.”

I might not be an A-C. But my husband had ensured I could defend myself. I wasn't as skilled in Kung Fu as he was, but I was a brown belt. And it was time for the Fists of Fury.

Only Martini was there, and he put his hand on my shoulder. “No, baby. You take care of Jamie.” His voice was a low and extremely dangerous. “It's up to me to protect our family.”

“Yeah?” yet another member of the press said. “You'll commit political suicide over a few snaps, mate?”

“I've killed men for less, yeah.” Martini shot them a smile that wasn't nice—it was feral. “Or are you all forgetting that my rank in Centaurion Division was as Commander? Of our entire military. You represent a threat to my child. Guess what I'm willing to do to protect her?”

“Stop it,” Margie said as she came over, in a Mother Tone that brooked no argument. “Stop it now. All of it and all of you. Confiscate the cameras,” she said to her staff and ours. “All of them. And take the press into a room for a debrief.”

Our Field agents used hyperspeed and wrested every camera away within seconds. “Search them,” Singh said, as he joined this party. “Assume they all have recording equipment on them.”

The full patdowns were done, at hyperspeed. Many recording devices were indeed found. Martini took them all and crushed them between his hands, one at a time, while the photographers winced. Then he took the cameras and ripped them apart, again with his bare hands, crushing each piece. He did it at human speeds, too.

“Now,” he snarled when he was finally done, “you can continue to piss me off, and I'll do this to your heads, or you can stay the hell away from my family.”

“Here's a tip about America and Americans. We really just want to be left the hell alone and for everyone around us to just freaking get along. We try to stay out of your business, but everyone likes to call us in, because we're big and we make such a great target—someone to hate even if they happen to be solving a problem. But when you piss us off, really piss us off, we get
angry
. Sometimes it's a bad choice, and sometimes it's not, but that's how we
are
. We don't like getting angry with our friends. But we will. And if you're set on proving you're
not
our friends? Then we truly are willing to rain down fire upon you. You'd think the rest of the world would have caught onto this by now and stop kicking at us, but apparently you'd be wrong.”

“You . . . you're a friend to the press,” one of them tried.

“No,” Richard said. “We're a friend to two reporters who happen to be focused on showing the truth. And, Jeffrey, I took the liberty of inviting them here. Mister Joel Oliver and Bruce Jenkins joined us during the attack on Jamie, and, once things are calmed down a bit, they'll be happy to report on how this summit meeting went.”

Martini nodded. “Raj, I'd like you to handle the debriefing of the press corps.”

“Absolutely.” Singh jerked his head at the Field agents. “Let's go.”

They hustled the press corps away. Decided now wasn't the time to ask what they were really going to do to them.

“What are you really going to do to them?” Margie asked. Okay, apparently now was the time.

“Give them another memory of how this went,” Martini said. “Harmlessly. It's one of our abilities.” He shot a cold stare at her. “One we only use in danger situations, when we can, to keep the populace calm and protected. We haven't used it on anyone in a long time, but I'm perfectly willing to in order to protect my family. You and your husband crossed a line I won't allow anyone to cross.”

Margie nodded. “We did, you're right. And . . . we were wrong to do it.”

“Not that this was the goal,” Tony said as he joined us, “but now we both have things to apologize to each other for.”

“You get to start,” I snapped. “Because my accidentally flipping you off and our spilling coffee on you because I was falling down concrete stairs so I could crack my head open is a lot less threatening than what you did to our three-year-old daughter. And I'm truly pissed enough to never forgive you for it.” With that, I spun on my heel again, grabbed my purse from where I'd left it under the table, and went to retrieve Jamie from Evalyne. Our Beauty Queen Contingent was with them.

Jamie was still crying and I took her and cuddled her. “I'm so sorry, Mommy,” she wailed.

“Shhh, shhh, it's okay, baby. It is. Nothing that's happened is your fault.”

“Yes, it
is
.” She buried her face in my neck and cried more.

Serene, Lorraine, and Claudia huddled around us and moved us a little ways away. “I don't think the cake is why Jamie's crying,” Serene said quietly. “All Field agents are either empaths or imageers. And the empaths are telling us that Jamie's upset over something else.”

Considered what it could be. She'd been acting funny in the car. Got a bad feeling. “Jamie, something's gone wrong, hasn't it?” She nodded against my neck. “I'm not going to be leaving any time soon, am I?” She shook her head. Held her more tightly. “It's okay. Daddy and I will figure it out, I promise. It's not your job and it's not your responsibility.”

“But it is,” she sobbed. “And things went wrong and I can't talk to her at all . . .” She couldn't talk she was crying so hard.

My stomach clenched. Had a variety of guesses as to how things could have gone wrong. Most of them ended with the idea that my family in my world was dead. Or that my CA or my Jamie were. Because this Jamie had surely indicated that she'd been responsible in part for the Great Mommy Switch.

Martini joined us now. “Handle things,” he said to the Beauty Queens. “The PM couple are now feeling like crap because Jamie's so upset. Use charm and support Richard until Raj comes back, then have Raj use charm.”

The women scurried off. “Jamie, the ‘her' you mean, is it my Jamie, from my universe?”

Jamie nodded. “I can always talk to her. Any time I want or she wants. But now . . . I can't,” she wailed.

Martini put his arms around me and Jamie. “Jamie-Kat,” he crooned softly, “it'll be okay. Daddy and Mommy will fix it. I know what you're afraid of, but there are many reasons for you not being able to talk to the Jamie in the world Mommy's from. And none of those reasons are your fault.”

“But, but . . . what if Mommy can't come back? I didn't want her to be gone
forever!
”

Kissed Jamie's head. “I know, and neither does she. But she's me, and I wouldn't stop trying to get home, and neither will she. I know that she's going to fix it and get us back to how we're supposed to be. You just have to have faith, Jamie. That's all.” Looked up at Martini. “I want my parents here, Mom especially, as fast as they can manage it.”

He nodded and jerked his head. James came over. “Is Jamie okay?”

“She will be,” Martini said. “Get Sol and Angela, Angela especially, here ASAP. Treat it as a top priority. I don't care if Angela is in a closed door meeting with Vince, I want her with us in five minutes or less.”

“You got it.” James shot me a comforting smile. “It'll be okay, Kitty.” Then he moved off, phone up to his ear.

Martini and I rocked Jamie together, and in a few minutes she fell asleep, exhausted from crying. Probably for the best. I kept a hold of her—she was asleep on my shoulder and right now, I wasn't willing to let her go.

Tony and Margie were hovering nearby, and they both looked stricken and more than a little ashamed. “I'm so sorry,” Tony said. “You were right, Kitty—we were behaving like children, not adults, and not like leaders of, pardon my national pride, the best country in the world.”

“Let's go inside,” Margie said. “I doubt that anyone feels like food right now.”

“I could use a drink,” I said dryly. Saw every A-C and human in the know look at me in wide-eyed panic. Right, A-Cs were deadly allergic to alcohol—that had been spoken of in the Info Meeting From Hell, and Martini had mentioned it, too. “Not that I can. So, I'll take a Coke, please and thank you, hold the rum.”

Margie laughed. “We have that, and plenty of other nonalcoholic beverages as well. Some regional, which you may not have had before.”

Managed not to say that I'd tried every regional soda Australia possessed, along with every other beverage they had, and definitely had my favorites. “Sounds great.”

“Good,” Tony said with a smile I knew was genuine. “Then, let's talk about how we're going to make what happened at the stadium into a joke we own. Then, I'd like some suggestions for how to get the Club Fifty-One contingent out of Australia for good.”

Martini smiled as well. “Happy to talk about all of that. The reporters my uncle invited will probably have a lot to add, on both counts.”

“Then, it's a party,” Tony said, as he clapped Martini on the back.

“But first,” Margie said to me, “let's get the two of you cleaned up. I know I have a dress that will fit your daughter. And I think I can find something for you, as well.”

I nodded and Martini kissed my cheek as he let go of me. “No matter your universe of origin, baby, you always manage to save the day somehow. Remember that.”

Knew he was telling me not to give up hope. Just hoped he was right.