Universal Alien Page 17

  Because I was enhanced, I could see things that were faster than the normal human eye could catch. Which was how I’d seen Chuckie switch the syringe with one that seemed like a prop—as far as I could tell, the needle didn’t penetrate. However, Chuckie had squeezed a pressure point on Raul’s arm at the same time he slammed the needle onto another pressure point in Raul’s neck. Raul was still alive, but he was knocked out and temporarily paralyzed.

  This wouldn’t last long, but it didn’t have to. Buchanan and Reader lifted Raul’s deadweight and moved him into the wine cellar. I heard what sounded like something ripping and assumed they’d found some duct tape and were ensuring that Raul wouldn’t be able to share when he woke up.

  “Who’s next?” Chuckie asked.

  “The Corporation isn’t run out of Cuba anymore,” Lopez said, sounding freaked out. Clearly he was the rookie in the group. Good. “We’re run by an American politician.”

  “Shut up,” Sanchez snarled.

  Reader came back in. “I say we burn the bodies. Less mess and no one’s going to be looking for them anyway.”

  Lopez went pale. “Look, I don’t wanna die. You let me cut a deal, I’ll tell you everything.”

  “You’ll tell us everything now,” Chuckie said, “and then we’ll decide if your information is worth us calling up our superiors.”

  “Some of your superiors are dead, just as ours are,” Sanchez said.

  I had him by the throat and up in the air in less than a second. Unlike Bernie, who was about my size, he was built more like Christopher. Did not matter. I had him up and off the floor. “Now I’m seriously pissed. Are you saying that you’re the ones who killed my mother?” My voice was a growl, not even on purpose.

  “No,” Bernie said, sounding freaked out. “No, we didn’t. We wouldn’t—”

  Shut her up with an excellent side blade kick to her head. While still holding Sanchez off the floor. Well, at least this awesome move had witnesses. Not the ones that mattered, because Christopher would never believe it and Jeff probably wouldn’t, either, but still, I had someone around to impress.

  Not that I cared about that so much. What I cared about was getting some answers before I got so angry I ripped someone’s throat out.

  “One more chance,” I growled at Sanchez. “And then you join your buddy Raul in the deader pile and I see how good old Julio here likes talking.”

  “I’ll talk,” Sanchez choked out. “Just put me down. Please.”

  “Wow, they teach the magic word in assassins school? I’m impressed.” Put him down, not nicely at all. “Spill it.”

  He nodded. “When Señor Battle went to prison, control of the Corporation moved.”

  “José Miguel Battle, Sr.,” Chuckie said quietly to me. “He worked with the C.I.A. originally during the Bay of Pigs fiasco, and then he became the godfather of the Cuban Mob.”

  “Fantastic. So, who did ownership pass to?”

  Sanchez shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. He was killed and then the next ones after him. Turf wars, you know how it is.”

  “Yeah. I’d still like names.”

  “I don’t know the name of Señor Battle’s first head man. But the one who took over was what Julio told you—an American politician from Florida.”

  Had a funny feeling. “And his name?”

  “Leventhal Reid.”

  Managed not to totally freak out, though it took effort. “So, did you kill my mother on his order?”

  “No. We didn’t kill your mother. His right-hand man did that, in retribution for her shooting Reid. He’s the one who hired us. He wanted everyone who ever worked with Angela Katt wiped off the face of the Earth. But he wanted her family to die last.”

  “Why?” Reader asked.

  Sanchez shrugged. “So he could enjoy it, I guess.”

  “The government thinks the Corporation is basically shut down,” Chuckie said, voice tight. “Angela didn’t believe it. We were investigating them, and had proof that Reid was involved, but we didn’t know he was the man in charge.”

  “So who is this ‘he,’ Reid’s right-hand man?”

  Sanchez didn’t look willing to share.

  “Look, you give us a name, one that we can believe, or else this is all BS and you’ve just tossed out the name of a dead politician to try to fool us.” Put my hand on Sanchez’s throat again. “And if that’s the case . . .”

  “We’re not allowed to know his name,” Sanchez said. “Or see his face. He wears a mask when he gives orders.”

  “Oh my God, pull the other one.” My hand tightened on his throat.

  “It’s true!” Lopez said. “He’s loco, scary loco, but we don’t get to see him.”

  “I don’t buy it. You don’t run an entire criminal organization wearing a mask as if it’s Halloween every day. I mean, sure, they do that in the comics, but in real life?”

  “He wears a mask,” Sanchez insisted. “No one sees him.”

  “Someone does,” Chuckie said. “Who?”

  “His woman,” Lopez said with a nervous giggle. “She sees him.”

  “And what’s her name?” I asked, hoping it wouldn’t be the name I was expecting and dreading at the same time.

  Sanchez smirked. “Bernice.”

  I tightened my hold on his throat. “You get to go bye-bye now, Mister Liar.” He struggled but I was stronger. Besides, Chuckie wasn’t the only one who knew how to knock someone out. Sanchez passed out and I tossed him toward Reader and therefore away from Lopez, who was looking freaked out.

  “That’s two down,” I said as Reader dragged Sanchez off to be with Raul. “Let me be clear. I know that Raul was not the head man of the Corporation. I also know that you were trying to follow good old Luis’ lead and try to lie to us.” Put my hand on his throat. “Do you really want to see if I’m strong enough to strangle you while I have you up in the air? I am, by the way. But if you’re, heh, dying to find out . . .”

  “No,” he choked out. “I don’t want to die. I just don’t want any of them to be able to say that I was the hutia.”

  “The what?”

  “Big Cuban rat,” Chuckie supplied. “Okay, fine, your only other witness is unconscious. Who’s the man supposedly in the mask?”

  “Not supposedly. Luis wasn’t lying. He wears a mask, so no one can identify him. I think they’re loco, both of them, but they’re in charge. They have plans.” He shuddered. “Killing people for a reason, that I understand. Killing babies for revenge? That’s wrong.”

  “Oh, so good to know you have a moral standard. I note it didn’t stop you from trying today, however. Tell us about his woman.”

  “I don’t know her real name. She’s tall and blonde. Everyone calls her Señora de Muerte. But, really, they both wear masks. Just the kind that cover half the face, not like Halloween. But enough so they’re hard to identify.”

  Got a very bad feeling. I was far better with French than Spanish, but Lady of Death was a pretty close matchup to LaRue Demorte, languages-wise. “What’s he look like? He’s American, right?”

  Lopez nodded. “Tall, built like him,” he jerked his head toward Chuckie. “Dresses well, they both do. But nothing that stands out.”

  “And the dude’s name? The new Head of the Corporation? What does he call himself?”

  “Papa Patrón.” Lopez shrugged. “I know, it’s a stupid name.”

  The bad feeling cemented itself. Because this was easy to translate. “Father Boss.”

  CHAPTER 29

  CHUCKIE PULLED ME ASIDE. “You just went pale,” he said quietly. “What did that ridiculous name mean to you?”

  “It’s a really long story, but the easiest explanation is that, in my world, we have a Sith Lord active. We call him the Mastermind. He’s the third generation of Sith, by the way. For us, the first Sith was an alien, named R
onald Yates. But his apprentice and the second Sith Lord was Leventhal Reid.”

  “So that creep was in your world, too?”

  “Creep would be the nicest thing I could say about him. He remains the most terrifying person I’ve ever dealt with. Jeff was only able to save me from him by about a second, and even then, even after Jeff killed him, Reid found a way to come back.”

  “What? Is your head hurting or something?”

  “No. In our world, Herbert Gaultier and Antony Marling, among others, were able to create legitimate clones and androids. We’re still finding out what else they created and who else is continuing on their sick and twisted work.”

  Chuckie jerked. “Who did you say?”

  “Antony Marling and Herbert Gaultier.”

  “There’s no way, Kitty. Herbert Gaultier is a successful businessman, yes, but he’s focused on saving people and the planet. Very focused. Herbert and Solange keep in touch with us, even though you cut Amy out when we got married. He’s a humanitarian, focused on curing cancer among other things. True, I think Marling’s a quack, but he’s considered the top doctor in the world for autistic children.”

  “Really? They’re good guys?”

  “Yes. Very much so.”

  “And . . . go back. I’ve cut Amy out in this world?”

  He nodded. “She . . . insulted me when you called to tell her we were getting married. You two haven’t spoken since. Herbert and especially Solange keep on trying to get you two to make up. But I can’t say that I’m eager for it. It’s been nice to not have your friends insulting me constantly.”

  Couldn’t stop myself, I hugged him. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry to say that it happens in my world, too.” Hugged him harder. “But I’m still your most ardent defender.”

  He hugged me back and kissed the top of my head. “Thanks. That’s kind of nice to know.”

  Realized we were hugging just a little too long and gently pulled away. “So, um, Solange is still alive? The woman who Julio over there just ID’d as the Lady of Death sounds a lot like LaRue Demorte, who in my world got to tack Gaultier onto the end of her name.”

  “She’s not Amy’s mother there, is she?” He sounded horrified. If he only knew LaRue he’d be grossed out, too.

  “Oh, hell no, she’s too young to be a mother of someone our age; she’s only a few years older than us. Well, supposedly. She was Herbert’s secretary, then mistress, then second wife, after he murdered Solange. Per you, by the way. In my world, if you say it, we know it’s so.”

  “Wow. It’s nice to know that I’m considered infallible somewhere.”

  “Oh, I’m betting you’re infallible here, too.”

  “So, back to that name. Why did it make you go pale?”

  “Because we discovered the clones of Reid and LaRue when . . .” Had no idea how he was going to take this, and wondered if I could talk around it. Realized I was going to have to tell him sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.

  Chuckie cocked his head at me. “Ah. What did they do to me? Am I still alive in your world?”

  “You are, yes. Your wife, however . . .” Swallowed hard and went on. “She loved you so much. And Jamie, too. We have human and alien godparents for Jamie. James and Amy—who I’m still besties with in my world—are my Jamie’s human godparents. Jamie’s named for James. And me.”

  “Same here. Jamie Katherine.”

  “I figured on the first name, but it’s nice to know on the second. Jeff’s cousin and Amy’s husband Christopher is her alien godfather. And your wife, Naomi, was her alien godmother. And, like the best fairy godmother in the world, she sacrificed herself to save you and Jamie from the Mastermind.”

  “Ah. How long were we married?”

  Swallowed hard again. “Six months.”

  Chuckie got a funny look on his face. “How long ago did she die?”

  “About a year and a half ago.”

  “Took me a long time to get married. Why?”

  “Ah . . .” There was truly no good, or modest, way to answer this question.

  “Oh. I was still in love with you, wasn’t I?”

  “Yeah. In my world, our timing sucked.”

  “Figures. Am I . . . still mourning?”

  “Yeah, you are, actually.” He looked kind of ill. “What is it?”

  “She’s going to want to take care of him, isn’t she? She’ll see him as me, as her husband, and even if she’s clear on everything else that’s going on, it’s me, like you’re her, in that sense. She’ll want to stay where it’s exciting and things are so much better than here.”

  “Whoa there, big fella. I haven’t been in this world very long, but I have to say that, other than the fact that you’ve been lying like a wet rug to her about what you actually do in your third career, and the fact that Mom is dead in this world, it’s pretty great here.”

  “Really? She and our children would be dead if not for this switch. You’ve made that abundantly clear. She already has Jamie there. She can have more children . . . a new Charlie and Max. With him.” He sounded stricken, as if he really believed this was going to happen.

  “Wow, dude. Seriously, until just a couple years ago, I honestly had no idea that you were the jealous type.”

  “I hide it well.”

  “Not so much right now. And I’m betting not at all to Other Me. Look, I deal with this all the time because Jeff is a jealous man, too. He was majorly jealous of you, for years. He’s finally gotten past it, at least most of the time. You need to trust the two, well, three of them as much as they have to trust you and me, you know.”

  He shook himself. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. That’s what friends are for, remember? And in every universe that we exist in, no matter what, you’re always my best friend.”

  He gave me a slow smile. “Then that makes the multiverse sound a whole lot better.” He cleared his throat. “So, the weird name? You still haven’t told me why it freaked you out, just that it has something to do with my . . . other wife’s death.”

  “Yeah. While we were doing the usual Mexican standoffs that I seem unable to avoid, both Reid and LaRue called the man in charge ‘Father.’ He’s not their real father—it was clearly what Yates, our Alien Patient Zero for Evil, had told Reid to call him, and, when I killed Yates and Reid took over, it was what he told his then-Apprentice to call him.”

  “Wait, what? You killed someone?”

  “Hells to the yeah. More than one someone, to be honest.”

  “How many someones have you killed in this alternate reality my wife is in?”

  “Dude, I’m losing count. Definitely in double digits. They were all bad guys, if that helps any. And by bad, I mean horrifically, terribly evilly bad. Just like the guys we’re going after now.”

  “Okay. I guess.”

  “You guess. If I’d realized there was a Glock in Other Me’s purse this morning, I’d have killed all four of them already for what they tried to do to me and three innocent little children. Your innocent little children.”

  “I’m not trying to sound disapproving, Kitty, I’m sorry. I can just see where this is going. You want to take down whoever’s in charge of the Corporation. And by ‘take down’ I mean ‘kill.’”

  “Probably. Because of the explanation you interrupted.”

  “Oh, pardon me. Do go on.”

  “I do sarcasm so much better than you. At any rate, with Reid being dead—and I note you didn’t freak out when I said that my husband had killed him—said Second Apprentice is now the Master, and he’s doing an endless clone loop with himself, Reid, and LaRue. Not Yates, though—they don’t appear to want the competition, or the control, for whatever reason. All of this was basically confirmed by the Reid and LaRue clones. So, if we take Father Boss to its obvious conclusion . . .”


  “Frankly, I didn’t want to sound like I was running your husband down and besides, you indicated Reid was attacking you so that was acceptable. And no, I don’t need a feminist tongue lashing, so you can close your mouth. You’re right, I was being sexist, and I’m sorry and I’ll do my best not to do it again. But, yes, I see where you’re going with that name. And, based on all of this, you need to realize that whoever is running the Corporation in this world has an extremely high probability of being the Sith Lord in yours.”

  “Got it in one, but then I never had a doubt. By the way, the chances are incredibly high that it’s someone I know, and know well, in my world. From all we’ve learned, the Mastermind knows pretty much everything we’re doing and planning to do.”

  “Well based on your reactions to Gaultier and Marling, be prepared for this person to be someone you think is a good guy in your world.”

  “Yeah, that had occurred to me, too. You know, this is sort of like Days of Future Past or Age of Apocalypse. Some people are still doing the jobs they were doing in my universe, some are still evil and some are still good, and some, wow, just wow. I’ll do my best to not assume at this point. But anyway and speaking of Marling, why would you guys interact with an autism specialist?”

  Chuckie looked down. “Jamie,” he said quietly. “We’re not sure what’s wrong, and we don’t discuss it a lot, but I think it’s autism and I’m pretty sure my Kitty does, too. And . . . if Jamie’s autistic, it’s all my fault.”

  CHAPTER 30

  “WE’LL DEAL WITH THE REPORTERS somehow, Walter,” Martini said. “We’ll be down momentarily.”

  “So much for that nap idea.” The three of us looked in the mirrors. “Well, you two look great. I, on the other hand . . .”

  “Look like someone who’s had an accident and is therefore shaken up,” Charles said.

  “My clothes are a mess. And the less said about the state of my hair, the better.”

  “They’re also wrong,” Martini said with a jerk. “We need you to change clothes before we go downstairs. And your hair is cut differently.”