Alien in Chief (23 page)

CHAPTER 44

W
AITED FOR A MINUTE,
but they didn't come back around to shoot at us. “Okay, I'm shocked, but apparently Dier's word is semi-good.” Handed goggles to the princesses while quickly explaining the invisible people issue.

The others joined us as they put their headgear on. We'd had a lot of commandos attacking—everyone had goggles on and White and Falk were holding many spares. We looked like a steampunk convention.

“Have to figure we still have issues inside,” Reader said. “Since the others aren't up here.”

“There are more invisible commandos inside?” As soon as I asked I knew the answer. Queen's “Fight from the Inside” coming on my music mix was also something of a “duh” clue.

“Yeah. Since we couldn't see them and all that, we had to leave people inside to fight whatever was attacking us,” Tim said, sarcasm knob heading toward eleven.

“Hey, I was busy defending the front of the train.”

“Let's now go in and defend the interior,” White said. “And give the rest of our people the ability to see what they're fighting.”

“Divide up, we have thirteen cars, and we have no idea
who's where,” Reader said. He assigned us out—I had Rahmi, Rhee, Mahin, White, and Adriana and we were starting from the back.

Half of the Field agents paired with all the Secret Service agents went up to the forward cars. The rest stayed on the roof, determining which commandos were alive or dead and ensuring the living ones were severely restrained. We didn't have anyone down on our side, but we had plenty who were hurt, though the A-Cs were, of course, healing up quickly. Alpha Team and Abigail took the last car they'd seen Jeff and the others in, which was the second dining car.

Wanted to ask to switch targets, but Reader didn't look like he was in the mood for me to question his authority, so I decided that discretion was going to remain the better part of not making one of my two best guy friends mad at me.

The teams split up and, on mine, the princesses insisted on going down first. Considering they and Adriana were the only ones who'd killed or even discomfited the invisible attackers, I chose not to argue.

Amazingly enough, there were no commandos in the caboose. We forged on. The next car had four Field and two Secret Service agents. They were all hurt, but they were also all alive and were in here under orders, to ensure that no one got past them. Gave them some goggles, then told them to hold down this part of the fort, just in case the Crazy Eights or the Invisible Commando Force brought in reinforcements.

“Assume we'll be fighting the moment we get into the next car,” I told Rahmi, as I took over the lead. “Let them see me first—I'm always presumed to be less threatening.”

Rahmi snorted. “They don't know you too well, do they?” She stepped to the side and slid the door open quickly.

It was always nice to be right, and I was definitely right. There were a lot of people in here, though most of them
were commandos. And they had prisoners, which was just peachy.

Caroline, Stryker, and Vance were all backed into a corner. They weren't fighting, though they all looked like they'd been hit, even Caroline. It was clear they'd been herded into this corner and they weren't trying to leave it because of the pain that had happened when they'd tried. Vance and Stryker looked frightened out of their minds. Caroline looked pissed.

She saw me and her eyes opened wider. She shook her head just a little. That was sweet, she was warning me. Needed to get my girl some goggles.

Algar did me another solid and Elton John's “Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting” came on. I enjoyed kicking butt to Sir Elton's tunes. Maybe it was the catchy piano riffs, but whatever the reason, I was primed and ready.

So, as the first commando turned around, I did a move that would make Jean-Claude Van Damme and Johnny Cage both proud—I dropped into the splits and slammed my fist up into his groin.

Rolled out of the splits as he was crumbling around his own personal pain and swung into a low sweep that knocked another commando on his butt.

Rahmi, Rhee, and Adriana were in the car now, and they were all kicking butts with the intent to not bother taking names later.

White and Mahin were in and they focused on getting to our three prisoners. Oh, sure, they had to knock a few heads and such to get there, but all in the line of duty.

It was a lot easier to fight inside the train than it had been on the roof, and it felt even easier by contrast, as if the roof had been a grueling 10K and this was just a quick warm-up sprint.

From the way the others were tossing hulking men trained in the ways of war down and aside, they felt the
same way. We had a lot of unconscious or dead commandos by the time Sir Elton finished and “Ain't No Rest For the Wicked” by Cage the Elephant came on. As we removed their goggles I recognized the one whose groin I'd done my best to destroy—another one of my old “pals” from Bizarro World.

While I brought Caroline, Vance, and Stryker up to speed, Mahin went back and got the A-Cs from the other car. Since we had prisoners now, someone needed to guard them. White went up to the roof to let the A-Cs up there know where to bring their prisoners.

“And to think I was looking forward to this trip,” Vance said when I was done.

“It could be worse,” Adriana said.

“How?” Stryker asked.

“You could be dead,” Rhee answered. She sniffed. “So few here are like the Great Tito.”

Couldn't blame her for comparing her future brother-in-law far more favorably than Vance or Stryker. But in their defense, we hadn't brought them with us for their ability to kick butt. Fortunately.

“Oh, not everyone's a fighter. Some are lovers. And Vance, before you say the words I can literally see forming in your mouth, I'd suggest you reconsider and remember that silence remains golden.”

White rejoined us as Vance slammed his mouth shut. “Things are under control upstairs. But from what I can tell, not so much next door.”

“Lead on, Macduff.”

“A literary reference? How refreshing.”

“I do read, Mister White. More than comic books.”

“You're a woman of well-hidden depths, aren't you, Missus Martini?”

“I'll hurt you later, Mister White. Shall we get our Avengers on?”

“I believe we shall.”

“I really need to get you a bowler hat and an umbrella gun.”

White laughed as “The Fight Song!” from Megadeth started. Algar was clearly enjoying himself, as was White. Nice to have them in sync. “And I demand that you get your catsuit. It's well past time.”

And with that, we stepped onto the next platform, ready for the next round.

CHAPTER 45

W
HITE MADE SURE
the others were right behind us, then slid the door open for me with a flourish.

Fortunately, I was prepared for anything, because the main dining car reminded me of how pundits usually liked to describe Detroit—a devastated wreck surrounded by nice stuff and things that used to be nice.

There was no surrender going on in this car, but our guys who were fighting—Jeff, Christopher, Gower, Chuckie, and Oliver—definitely looked worse for wear.

That Oliver was fighting instead of cowering didn't surprise me. Nor was I surprised to find Shawn, Janet, Kenton, Duncan, Wade, and Andrea all hiding in the kitchen. Nor was seeing an absolute tonnage of commandos in here surprising in any way.

No, what was kind of a shocker was that Ginger and Bruno were in here, using their keen animal senses—meaning flying into and clawing the faces of the commandos in Bruno's case, and clawing the legs or biting down on the arms of other commandos in Ginger's case—to help the guys identify where a commando was and Reader and his team were not.

How the animals had gotten in was answered in that at least half of the windows of this car were smashed out. Where Reader's team was, however, was a mystery. One I
was going to have to solve after we kicked some invisible butt.

We rolled into action. The only hindrance was that there were a lot of people in here, so the princesses couldn't really use their staffs. That was okay. What they lacked in battlestaff ability they more than made up for in Channeling Our Ancestors The Pissed Off Amazons ability. Some of the commandos they were destroying might survive, but I could guarantee they wouldn't want to.

Mahin again performed Goggle Distribution Duty but White was busy fighting with me and Adriana. I'd fought with each of them separately but never the three of us together. However, as I went low, Adriana took the middle, and White went high, it was clear we were a Super Team.

“Mister White, you remain the best we have.”

“I agree,” Adriana said we took down three big commandos in a row. “You're as good as Mister Buchanan.”

“High praise indeed,” White said, as he slammed a back kick into a commando behind him without even looking. “I'm flattered.”

“I'm still wondering why we have any other agents, present company excluded and no offence meant.”

“Oh,” Jeff said, sarcasm meter well past eleven, as he picked up a commando he could now see and slammed the man repeatedly onto the floor, “absolutely none taken. At all.”

“I'm going to be in therapy for the rest of my life due to your borderline creepy hero worship of my dad,” Christopher added as he zoomed around us and tied up any still-breathing commandos.

“I'm just glad Bruno and Ginger showed up when they did,” Chuckie said, as he twisted the neck of the commando he was fighting. “It was too loud to spot them via their breathing.”

“It's been nice,” Gower said, as he and Oliver slammed the last two commandos together and then against the wall
in a move that looked practiced but I knew wasn't, “to get to do something active. Richard, I can see why you teamed up with Kitty with such gusto now.”

“Where are the others?” Jeff asked as I checked him over to make sure he wasn't too hurt. Adriana did the same for Chuckie, White did the same for his son, Mahin had Oliver, and the princesses took the “honor” of verifying that Supreme Pontifex Gower was still intact.

“That's the question of the minute.” Quickly brought them up to speed while I gave Bruno lots of scritchy-scratches between his wings and Ginger lots of pets. “We expected to see James and his team in here by the time we got in.”

Chuckie and Adriana went to check the forward door. “It's sealed shut,” he announced as they got back. “Welded as near as I can tell. So that explains why they couldn't get in.”

“Why not come in through the other door?” Christopher asked. “Or through the broken windows like the animals did?”

“No clue, but my questions are—where are they now, and who sealed this door and why?”

“Why is easy,” Adriana said. “To keep Jeff and the others trapped in here.”

“We
were
trapped,” Jeff admitted. “It's a lot harder than it sounds to fight someone invisible.”

“Who is the big question. Was it more commandos? If so, that might explain what James' team is up to.”

Megadeth's song ended and so did my music. Considered what Algar might be telling me. Pulled my phone out.

Apparently there weren't any songs entitled “Duh.” It was a phone. I could, therefore, solve the mystery of where the others were easily. “Giving myself a huge duh right now. Hang on.” Called Reader. He answered after several rings, right before I was ready to panic.

“Hey Kitty, good of you to check in. You guys okay?”

“Yeah, where the heck are you?”

“The front door to the car we're thinking Jeff's in was welded shut.” Nice to know that Chuckie's Never Wrong status remained solid. “We were going to go in the back way, but Falk said he was concerned about the other agents, so we worked our way forward. He was right, by the way—they needed our help, so I'm glad we listened to him. Did you get to them?” He sounded a little worried. He'd left his husband in here, after all.

“Yeah, and they're fine, Paul included. Well, banged up like the rest of us, but no one's dead or maimed or anything. Are you guys still fighting?”

“No, we cleared the rest of the train.” He sighed. “Not much of it's going to be usable.”

“Well, we'll worry about refurbishing once we get somewhere safely. I think this means we need to cancel the further stops until Orlando, though.”

“Yeah. I was on with Raj when you called. If you're all right back there, come join us if you can—we're in Rail Force One and the private dining cars. The President and the others are still in the War Room. Communications to the engine was destroyed, though.”

“Okay, has anyone checked on the engineer, and we have prisoners.”

“Yes, the conductor called the War Room a little while ago to make sure that the President wanted to go on. He said yes because he figured we needed to get to safety. And we have prisoners, too. Ours are in the dining car. It took the least damage.”

“Okay, we'll move ours up there.”

“Can you? If that door is still shut you're going to have to take them on the roof, and that will give them an opportunity to escape.”

“We'll figure it out. Here or there, whichever we think makes the most sense.”

“Sounds good. I need to get back to Raj, so . . .”

“Hey, James . . . before you go . . . did you find any more
Crazy Eights? I mean people who we would know or weren't invisible?”

“No. We didn't find welding equipment, either, by the way. I have no idea who welded that door shut, but it wasn't one of the commandos.”

“Who do you think did it?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Honestly, with the way things are going, if you told me it was a ghost, I'd half believe it.”