Alien Diplomacy (59 page)

Sure enough, she looked at me, and her eyes narrowed. “And you killed him.” Right on cue.

“He was dying anyway. Mephistopheles was all that kept Yates going.”

She gave me a long look, then nodded slowly. “True enough.”

I was shocked to my core, but I chose to not show it. “So, Cantu, Armstrong, Kramer, all the rest of the Cabal of Evil, how much do they know?”

She laughed again. “I do love your names for things. Everyone else says you use the names to belittle or because you’re not bright enough to remember the real names, but I think you do it because you have an interesting worldview.”

“Thanks, I think you’re the only one who feels that way.” It was the weirdest thing, in an entire day of ultra weirdness, but I was sorry she was evil. I was actually enjoying the conversation. “The names just sort of come to me, it’s not like I even try. But everyone else seems to find my names for things wince-worthy at best.”

“Not everyone appreciates those of us who can think outside of the box.”

“True enough. So, the others, are they patsies, informed helpers, or what? And, seriously, what is Lillian Culver’s damage? You want a supersoldier? Just clone and enlarge her, and the world will run screaming in terror.”

Cartwright gave a belly laugh. “I know! She’s horrible. And clueless, for the most part. She, like the others, is aware of the supersoldier projects, as you call them. But they’re not aware of what powers the soldiers possess.” She patted the beast next to her. “They’re truly amazing.”

“I can believe that,” I said quickly. “But seriously, Cantu and Armstrong aren’t in on this? I really thought they’d been helping Cooper a few months ago.”

“Yes, and you see how well
that
turned out.”

I laughed. “Yeah, good point.”

Cartwright nodded. “They underestimated you, completely. I warned them that they were, but, you know, you’re a woman, and a young one, so how could you possibly outthink brilliant men such as they?” Her sarcasm knob was definitely turned to eleven.

“You’ve had to put up with that kind of crap thinking for a long time, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I’d tell you that you get used to it, but I frankly see no reason to lie to you at this point. It never stops. Your mother deals with it, too.”

“Yeah. I suppose. Mom seems to ignore the barriers like they’re not really there.”

“Just as you and I do. We all play the game. All smart, capable women learn how, sooner or later.”

“True enough. So, Paraguay and France, supersoldier headquarters?”

“In a way.”

She didn’t seem to want to elaborate, and I wanted to keep her talking. “I’m curious. How are you going to ensure all the people on the congressional fact-finding teams who are close to exposing this project are silenced?”

“What’s your guess?” Cartwright sounded genuinely interested.

“You have the Dingo and his partner, possibly more assassins, upstairs, waiting for the right cue. Probably when the President takes the stage. They’ll shoot not only Senator McMillan and his congressional team, but also the heads of the Alphabet Agencies. It’s blamed as a terrorist attack—you’ll probably lay it on the Al
Dejahl terrorist group since they’re supposed to be wiped out and you have that connection with Yates.”

She nodded. “Go on.”

“Then, in the midst of the chaos, Spiky here and its buddies will show up, to save the day. They may accidentally step on a couple of folks the snipers missed, but the people who are most likely to point that out will be dead. Titan shows that it’s better than the police, who, if they manage to arrive, will be killed or useless, and Titan takes over all police duties here…and then expands to cover the rest of the U.S, and then the world.”

“Well done.”

“Question, though. How will you explain all the Titan goons who basically did nothing?”

She shrugged. “They’ll take their share of damage. They need to be better than the police, but still, not better than these.” She patted the supersoldier again.

What was it with the evil geniuses and killing their own guys? Goons clearly needed a union or something. I decided not to ask about this, though. “I think the plan to get rid of all the heads of the various agencies is kind of genius. It’ll definitely throw everyone off the real scent. Your plan?”

This earned me a rather fond smile. “Yes, it is.”

“How many assassins do you have? I mean, I realize the Dingo’s good, but that good?”

“You need far fewer snipers in this situation than you’d think. Three or four is more than enough.”

“Who are the third and fourth?”

“People much more reliable than the idiots I have to work with on a regular basis.” She checked her watch and shook her head. “Time’s up. We need to get into position so things go according to schedule.”

“One last question? Please?” Keep ’em monologing, stay alive, that was my Motto of Mottos.

She sighed. “Fine. One.”

“Why are you doing this, all of this? What’s in it for you? Money? Power? Or something else?”

“That was more than one question.”

I managed a smile. “Sorry. But they’re all related to the main question. Why are you, you specifically, doing this?”

Cartwright stared at me for a few moments. “Why do you do all that you do?”

“Protecting people seems like the right thing to do.”

“Really? The people who lie, cheat, steal, do worse? You like protecting them?”

“I guess I don’t think about it, when I do it. I’m usually protecting people I care about.”

“Really? Who at this gala event, aside from your friends and family who accompanied you here, do you actually care about?”

“The President.”

“Why?”

“Um, because he’s the President, and he’s a good man.”

“Really? You know him personally?”

“No. My mom does. She likes him.”

“He’s her boss. Of course she’ll say she likes him. It’s politically stupid to say you don’t like the man you’re hired to protect. Who else?”

I thought about it. “Senator McMillan and his wife. I care about them.”

“Why so? Because you’ve grown up with him as senator? What does that mean, in reality?”

“No. I like him because he’s decent. He’s a real person, still the man he was, despite being here for so long. I admire that. And, like you, he seems to actually, I don’t know, get me. No one else in this town has, just him and you.” I now had the cherry and whipped cream for the top of my weirdness sundae.

“So, if I told you that I wouldn’t kill him or his wife, would let all your family and friends leave in safety, would you still try to stop me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because what you’re doing is wrong and will harm more people than just the ones I know and care about.”

Cartwright nodded. “I believe it’s good to know where you stand before you die.”

“Where do you stand?”

She shrugged. “I want respect. I’m the brains behind Titan Security, despite what my brother-in-law would tell you. I’m the one who comes up with the ideas and then sees how to make them a reality. But someone else always gets the credit. I’m tired of that, tired of catering to men who haven’t got the brains to advance their careers without my help, tired of listening to them take credit for my work over and over again. The only thing that gets you respect in this town is money or power, preferably both together.”

“If you turned the others in, you’d be lauded as a hero.”

“No, they’d turn state’s evidence and we’d all go down.” Cartwright shook her head. “No, unfortunately, this is the only way. I am sorry, though.”

“About what?”

“It’s going to be horribly painful for you. It has to be, in order to ensure your husband is destroyed. I imagine it will destroy your child, too. Which is a pity, but sacrifices must be made.”

“Just like your brother-in-law sacrificed his children?”

“Yes, in that sense. Well, I’ve honestly enjoyed talking to you.”

“Odd as it sounds, me too.” I readied myself and focused on the inner me. If I was ever going to need hyperspeed, now was the time.

“No more lives left for Kitty Katt,” Cartwright said as she aimed the gun at my gut. “See you in Hell, Missus Martini.”

It turned out that the shot rang out before I could run.

C
ARTWRIGHT FELL FORWARD.
The back of her head had a big hole in it. I looked behind where she’d been standing. “I think,” Adriana said, as she lowered her smoking gun, “that Grandmother would not like her new friend to be dead.”

“Olga is your grandmother?”

“Yes.”

My mind was working at high speed for a variety of reasons, adrenaline high being the biggest. “She’s trained you in the old KGB ways, hasn’t she?”

“Of course. It’s a dangerous world, and Grandmother won’t be in it with me forever. She wants to ensure I’m protected.”

“No argument from me. How did you know where I was?”

She shrugged. “I followed you.” She smiled. “Grandmother agreed it would be nice for me to get to enjoy the party.”

“Thank you for the save.”

“You’re welcome.” She picked up the remote. “It’s not on a kill switch, thankfully.” She handed it to me.

I looked up at the monster. “It’s conscious, isn’t it?”

“We feel sure that it is, yes. In its own way.”

“Any guess for how to destroy it?”

“I think the better question would be, is this the only one here?”

I thought about it. “Of course it’s not. Think they’re all down here?”

“I don’t know. I followed you down the garbage shaft.”

“Seriously?” She didn’t look even slightly mussed. I was wearing the latest in garbage encrusted wraps, I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that my hair was most likely a disaster, and, upon a quick scan, my skirt was already torn.

“Yes.” She indicated the large, but fancy, black bag she had slung over her shoulder. “I carried what we thought I might need with me.”

“Should I even ask how you got all that through security?”

“Probably not at this precise time. I think we should save everyone else now.”

“Amen to that.” I took Cartwright’s gun. “Oh, how nice. It’s a Glock. Full clip, too. Handy.” I stepped around the body and felt something follow me. I looked over my shoulder. The supersoldier was right behind me, like the ickiest, scariest dog in the world. “I guess it’s, um, attached to the remote.”

“At least we’ll know where it is.”

“Good point.”

We took a look around. The hotel was huge, and we weren’t in the parking garage, we were in a basement of some kind. While it was actually quite spacious from a height perspective—the supersoldier didn’t have to bend over, and there was at least two feet of clearance between its head and the ceiling—it was, naturally, one of those rat maze basements, because my luck wouldn’t allow me to fall into a wide-open room with exits clearly marked unless there was a nuclear bomb set to go off in less than a second.

“We should hear something, wouldn’t you think?” I asked as we crept along, the supersoldier making far less noise than I’d have expected. I checked its feet. “Wow, rubberized soles. It’s nice to see today’s evil geniuses going Old School and really adding on those extra touches that mean so much. Craftsmanship and attention to detail are always appreciated.”

“If they’re stationary, we won’t hear anything,” Adriana said.

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than I spotted light reflecting off of something very shiny. We both flattened against the nearest wall. The supersoldier did the same, although, with all its arms, prongs, blades, and such, “flattened” was more of an attempt than a success.

We were near a hallway. I listened but didn’t hear anything, so I risked a look around the corner. I was rewarded with a great view of a platoon of supersoldiers. I counted eleven, meaning my personal robotic pal made the even dozen. These people were really into the number twelve for some reason. I was sure it would end up having some weird, evil bad-guy significance in numerology or something; it sounded like the way they rolled.

The supersoldiers resembled each other, though a quick count showed that some had different numbers of appendages. I gave up
counting the different extras on each one. Bottom line was they were all ten feet tall, encased in what I knew even without asking was a special kind of hard-to-destroy metal, each with a parasitic superbeing inside.

What I didn’t see was anyone in charge of them.

But before I ran out and got shot by someone I merely hadn’t seen, I examined the remote. There were a lot of buttons on it. None of them were marked. Naturally. I considered hitting some at random but decided I was thrilled to still be alive and unscathed.

This left us with a couple of guns as our entire assault force. I didn’t feel like channeling General Custer.

Nothing for it. I did the silent motions to tell Adriana to stay put and stepped out. Sadly, Spiky wasn’t clued in to hand signals and stepped right out with me. I froze, waiting for someone to speak or shoot. Nothing.

Adriana joined me. “I think we’re alone here.”

“Huh. Cartwright was pretty confident she was going to kill me.” I considered this. “And she’d have been right if not for your grandmother.”