Alien Tango Page 9

  “I don’t want you to die.” I tried to hide it, but him acting like this was really worrying me.

  Martini picked it up, of course. He pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. I leaned my head against his chest and rubbed his back some more. “I’m so sorry,” he said finally. “It’s going to be miserable, and I don’t know how to protect you from them.”

  I nuzzled his chest. “In college, I briefly dated a guy whose family were the biggest neo-Nazis you could ever imagine. I didn’t know it until he took me home to meet them. My Uncle Mort, the Marine, literally had to come get me with a complement of his leathernecks because I was that afraid of being killed by those people once they discovered I was Jewish. I truly can’t imagine your family could be worse than them.”

  “Well, true. I don’t think anyone in my family’s going to try to kill you.”

  “See? So it’ll be fine.”

  “God, I love your optimism.”

  “How are you doing, talentwise?” This was my veiled way of determining if I needed to have the adrenaline harpoon ready or not.

  Martini sighed. “Not all that great, but I think I’ll be fine.”

  “I’d hoped all this activity wouldn’t have drained you.” Worry crashed over me, as it always did when he was heading toward an empathic crash.

  “It’s not that, baby.” Martini hugged me tighter. “Honestly, dealing with my parents, my mother particularly, is harder than any work we ever do.”

  “Well, parents can be like that.”

  “Yours aren’t.”

  “Mine have accepted what I do and who I’m with.” I studiously contemplated the image of flowers. Sometimes that worked to keep things from Martini. Flowers didn’t suggest I should be considering options, after all.

  “Mine merely love to show me how much they can’t stand me.” Martini sounded despondent. I hoped it wasn’t that he’d gotten anything from me.

  “I’m sure that’s not true, Jeff. If they didn’t love you, why would they care who you married?”

  “To ensure I’m miserable?”

  I tried another avenue. “What about your mother being jealous of Terry? Jealousy’s not because of hatred, it’s usually because of love. Or something.”

  “I point out that we’re having meat loaf whenever we arrive. I think my mother just hates to lose, and if I was happier with Aunt Terry, then she’s lost.”

  “Maybe. But if she’s still jealous that you were with Terry, and that Terry was able to take care of you while she wasn’t, then maybe it’s not losing but loss, you know?”

  “Maybe. But nothing she’s ever done would give me that impression. Or Christopher.” He heaved a sigh. “I hate going home. I’d rather have blown up in that plane than visit my parents’ house.”

  “How are you going to handle being there?” If this was what he was like across the country from his mother, I didn’t think I had enough adrenaline for this upcoming visit. The entire Science Center might not have enough adrenaline.

  “I have very . . . strong . . . blocks up when I’m home. Aunt Terry taught me how to do it. It’ll be okay, baby. I hope.”

  Kevin came over before the conversation spiraled even more downward, and we pulled apart. “Okay, we have enough components. For certain they could have fashioned a small but effective bomb from what they had, especially since they had two of the flight attendants in on it.”

  “What was their plan—the stewardesses would pick up the components from each conspirator as they went through getting trash, and then one of them would put it together in the galley while the other kept watch?”

  Kevin gave me a long look. “Yeah, that was exactly their plan. Does Angela drill you on this stuff or something?”

  “I just think like psychos, I guess.” What a great skill. No wonder Martini’s mother wasn’t thrilled.

  “Why were they willing to die?” Martini asked.

  “Taft seems to have them convinced that they’re immune to dying.” Kevin shook his head. “They were all positive the bomb wouldn’t have killed any of them.”

  “Just them or everyone?”

  Kevin shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “Let’s go talk to the weasel.”

  We went to where Shannon was being held. I got up close. “What do you want?” he asked, as he eyed Martini nervously. There were still red fingerprint marks on his throat.

  “I want to know why you were willing to die for this cause.” He shook his head, so I grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me. “I’ll let him take out all his frustrations on you,” I jerked my head toward Martini. “And, believe me, he has a lot of them right now.”

  Shannon looked frightened but still resistant. “What’s in it for me?”

  “Not dying,” Martini snarled.

  “We don’t need you, Shannon. We have the head of your chapter. She has the real info. The best you’re going to get is a reduced sentence if you help us. If you don’t . . . well, I know what someone your size, who also happens to lack teeth, has to look forward to in prison.”

  Shannon gulped. “Okay. It’ll help me stay out of jail?” I nodded. After all, it might. “Taft told us all about your psychic and telekinetic abilities.”

  “Come again?” What did these people think we were, the X-Men?

  “We were going to blow up the plane to prove you were here on Earth. Everyone knows you’re invulnerable. We also know you can hold things together with your minds. If several of you were on the plane and part of it blew up, you’d all do your psychic thing and save the plane. Then we’d have the proof, and you couldn’t deny it.”

  I let go of Shannon’s jaw. “And, at no time did you ask yourself if this was, say, true?” They did think we were the X-Men. Wow.

  “Well, aliens exist. I mean, you’re here.” He had a point, but I was going to take it away from him.

  “No, they don’t. We’re human undercover operatives for an antiterrorism branch of the federal government. We’ve targeted your little Club 51 because it’s encouraging terrorist behavior.”

  Shannon shook his head. “I don’t believe you. No one in Club 51 will ever believe that. We know you’re here, and we know you’re evil and need to be wiped off the face of the Earth.”

  CHAPTER 16

  I WOULD HAVE LOVED TO have spent more time with Shannon learning about what else the scary people in Club 51 thought aliens could do, but we still had to get to Florida. Sometime. But not, as it turned out, any time soon.

  Kevin had called in a whole bunch of federal agents. They seemed to take direction from him willingly. My mother wasn’t pretending—she did outrank everyone.

  The conspirators were taken away, handcuffed and heavily guarded. Their belongings went with them. The rest of the passengers had been triple-searched—no more bomb elements, no additional Club 51 cards.

  True to my word, I made sure Alicia got a tremendous amount of credit. Kevin was prepping her for what to say and not to say when the reporters were allowed in, which would be as soon as the innocent passengers were released. She was dazed, to the point where Tim was holding her up. I got the impression Tim was being chivalrous because he thought she was cute. Alicia wasn’t protesting about his arm around her waist.

  Reader noticed, too. “Not every day we stop a huge terrorism plot and one of our team gets to make a love connection. Last time was when you joined up, girlfriend.”

  “We could rename ourselves the Love Team.”

  “Gag.” Martini rubbed the back of my neck. “When can we get out of here?”

  “We have to wait at least three hours for our jet to get here and get prepped,” Reader replied. “I want only our own guys doing it, and it has to fly here, not use the Dome or a floater.”

  The Crash Site Dome was essentially the main gate hub. It was located where the original aliens, the Ancients, had first crash-landed in the U.S., so it had a lot of residual power. Larger equipment either went to the Dome and then to their final destination, or a f
loater gate was created. I still had no idea how that worked, and Christopher insisted I wouldn’t want to know.

  “Can we arrive at the Space Center at night?” Martini’s fingers felt great. I was having to control myself from arching into his hand.

  Martini shook his head. “No one will be there. It would make sense for us to gate over right now, while we could still deal with something today.”

  Reader sighed. “I’m with you, Jeff.”

  “Anyone know why Richard’s still dead set against it?” I waited to hear, “It’s political.”

  “No idea,” Reader said. Well, maybe I was the only one making the political connection. “Paul doesn’t know, but he’s insisted on coming with us now.” Gower had gone to pack but was expected back with us shortly.

  “You sure Richard won’t keep him there?” Martini asked.

  “Positive. Paul’s really pissed.”

  “Whatever’s going on, the pressure on him has to be incredible. I mean, his son and nephew were just targeted for death, and he’s still insisting we have to fly via jet.” A thought occurred. “Hang on.” I dug through my purse, pulled out my phone, and dialed. “Hey, Mom.”

  “How’s it going? Were you right?”

  “Dead on right. Kevin’s awesome, by the way.”

  “Yeah. Hope you and James didn’t embarrass yourselves.” Geez, Mom was never fooled by anything.

  “Um, sort of.”

  “I’ll bet. So, what’s the plan now?”

  “We’re still heading for Florida. Richard’s insisting we have to arrive by jet, not gate.”

  “Don’t take a commercial flight.”

  “Ahead of you.” For once. “One of our jets is coming. James is making sure only Centaurion Division are touching it.”

  “Good.” She sighed. “You want to know what’s going on, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Spill. It’s got something to do with you and Dad being in D.C., doesn’t it?”

  “In a way. There’s a lot of pressure to use Centaurion Division as a full military unit, especially since the parasitic threat seems to be decreasing in the last few months.”

  “Because we took out the main fugly who was calling them here. However, I don’t call a twelve-superbeing cluster slowing activity.”

  “Really? Before that and today, what’s the superbeing activity been like?”

  I didn’t have to think about it. “Slowing. Getting slower the longer I’ve been with Centaurion.”

  “Exactly. They’re running out of legitimate things to do. And that means we have governmental pressure to put them to better use.”

  “That’s not what they’re here for.”

  “I know. And I don’t agree with this suggestion. However, it does bear discussion, and that’s what we’re doing. Right now, Centaurion Division needs to appear as human as possible, though.”

  Ah, that made sense. “So, we show up in a jet, with people watching us exit said jet, and we get to say, ‘See? We travel like you.’ Of course, someone’s using this to try to wipe us out.”

  “Not everyone likes the idea of aliens living here with us.”

  “That reminds me. Leventhal Reid, you know him?”

  “Know and loathe.”

  “Was he the Reid you and Dad were talking about at dinner last night?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I think he masterminded this terrorism attempt.”

  Mom was quiet for a few moments. “I’ll check things out.”

  “Also, check out some guy named Howard Taft. He’s the Supreme Leader of Club 51, the anti-alien underground organization that’s responsible for this aborted terrorist attack.”

  “Supreme Leader?”

  “I know, they’re loons.” Correct, in their way, but still loons.

  “I’ll check him and the organization out, too. What has James found so far?”

  I handed the phone to Reader. “Please synchronize watches with my mother.”

  Reader took the phone with a grin. “Angela, great to hear your voice. Uh-huh. Yeah, checked that already. That too. Yep. We have proof of a connection to a man called Leventhal who gave the order to hold the commercial jet, but that’s the only thing, and it’s not enough. Right. Yeah.” He laughed. “Probably. Yeah, we know, he’s married.” He laughed again. “No problem, but I’ll keep it in mind. Yeah, nothing on Taft yet. I’m betting it’s a fake name. Uh-huh. Yeah, I’ll check those and run them by Kitty. Okay, great. Talk to you soon.” He handed the phone back to me.

  “I wish he were straight,” Mom sighed. “That’s a son-in-law I’d love.”

  I focused on the flowers again. “In a way, me too. However, what’s going on?”

  “James and I just made sure we weren’t duplicating effort. Anyway, let me know when you get to Florida. I imagine you’re heading down there because of the shuttle issues.”

  “No idea. No one’s told me yet, and we’ve been a little busy.”

  “Well, find out, and keep me posted.” I heard Dad’s voice in the background. “Your father sends his love and reminds me we’re late.”

  “Dinner at the White House?”

  “Already did that. We’re late for a reception, and I’m not dressed so, love you, gotta go.”

  “Love you too, Mom. Give my best to the Pres and the rest of the politicos.”

  I hung up and considered how different my life was from six months ago. Pretty much completely.

  Kevin came back. “I think we want to be somewhere else when the press are allowed in.”

  “Good point. But can we just leave Alicia alone?”

  “True. If you’re okay leaving him here, Tim can handle it. He’s been helping me get her ready.”

  “He’s human, so a good choice. You don’t want to be here for the press?”

  Kevin shook his head. “We prefer to be a little more shadowy if at all possible.” He grinned. “Besides, I’m having food brought in, and it’d be a shame to miss it.”

  CHAPTER 17

  DINNER WAS NICE, not to mention long and drawn out. We had a lot of time to kill.

  Kevin had catering brought in from one of my favorite local Italian restaurants, and we were given an entire room that I wouldn’t have known existed in the airport but was apparently part of the security setup. The Feds were still all over the place, but the only non-Centaurion operative with us was Kevin.

  “Not that this isn’t great, but why don’t we just go back to the Science Center?” I asked with my mouth full of cannelloni.

  “I’ve suggested it,” Gower said. “More than once. Richard would prefer we stay here.” Martini growled and grumbled, but he didn’t say anything. This was clearly one of those times when the Office of the Pontifex was trumping Field and Imageering.

  “Why?”

  Gower heaved a sigh. “We need to continue to appear ‘regular.’ ”

  “By spending the night in the airport?” By any standards, this seemed like Plan Inconvenient and Dumb.

  Christopher and Martini exchanged glances. Reader chuckled. “Richard knows that if he lets us go back, Jeff’ll enact a protocol that will send us via a gate.”

  “We have protocols?” Truly, no one ever told me anything.

  “Some,” Martini allowed. “I think Richard’s trying to avoid a fight. Besides,” he sighed, “as long as we leave somewhere in the early hours, we’ll get there in the morning.”

  “Oh. Good.” I wasn’t what anyone would call a morning person. “We could go to my parents’ house.”

  All the men shook their heads. “We need to remain here,” Kevin said. “If Centaurion leaves the area, jurisdiction will shift. And we don’t want that.”

  I gave up. “How are we going to sleep?”

  “In shifts,” Martini said. “If at all.”

  Tim and Alicia joined us for food before I could whine any more. He got some looks for bringing her, but I couldn’t blame him—she looked wiped, and she knew most of what was going on, anyway.

 
“The press get their story?” Christopher asked meaningfully.

  Tim nodded while he piled lasagna onto his plate. “All clear. Alicia did a great job, said exactly what Kevin told her to.”

  She smiled weakly. “I’m too tired to be creative.”

  “How are we getting Alicia home?” I asked Kevin quietly.

  “We’re not.” He smiled at my shocked expression. “She’d prefer to avoid reporters, so she’s staying here with us until we leave. Then I’ll have her escorted home.”

  Alicia heard us. “Agent Lewis, could that be after my shift tomorrow? I’ve got morning duty, so I might as well not waste a sick day.” I got the impression Alicia wanted to hang out with us, Tim in particular, for as long as she could.

  “Sure thing.” Kevin stood and stretched. “I’m going to check on things. It’s fine if you want to wander, just don’t leave this terminal, and make sure everyone has an idea of where you are if you do wander.” He left the room. Some of our random A-Cs stretched out as much as they could and, as near as I could tell, went to sleep. A-Cs were big on napping whenever it was safe to do so.

  Martini stroked the back of my neck. “So, we have time to kill?”

  “Yep.” Reader gave us both a knowing grin. “You two want to go wander around, look at the gift shops? I think some of them are still open.”

  “What a great idea,” Martini said. “Yeah, we’re going to disappear for a bit.”

  Reader winked at me. “Enjoy. I’ll call you when we’re ready if you’re not back yet.”

  We took our bags with us; it made us look less obvious. At least, so I told myself. “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t care. Just away from all this.” Martini squeezed my hand. “You know this place better than I do.”

  This was true. But I’d never needed a private room before. “I know the elevator alarms go off if you stop one between floors.”

  “Damn.”

  “We could sneak back to the Science Center.”

  “No, I don’t feel like getting into anything with Richard. Or Gladys interrupting us again.”