Alien in Chief (48 page)

CHAPTER 93

W
E WERE BACK IN
the Embassy after the funeral.

We were supposed to be in the White House now, seeing as it had been a week since the big attack, but Jeff refused to rush Elaine out. We were also supposed to do some kind of inauguration party, but Jeff really didn't want to do that.

Had no energy to argue about these things one way or the other. Plus I was jumpy and nervous and generally out of sorts. Understandably, but still, it didn't make being First Lady any easier.

Cliff, Reid, and LaRue had gotten away. Their helicopter had been faster than the jets Andrews had scrambled. Maybe they were in Titan tech, maybe Drax's, maybe someone else's. We'd find out, but for now, they, and the five remaining Crazy Eights, were at large and were all on every nation's most wanted lists.

A new Vice President needed to be selected and approved as well as a host of Cabinet members and some of the Joint Chiefs. Probably more. But right now, we were too busy mourning.

Pierre had provided his usual Funeral Feast and people were eating, even Elaine and her family, who'd come back with us.

Dad was carrying Charlie and Jeff had Jamie. Jamie hadn't been herself this week because, as far as I could tell, she'd come dangerously close to draining all her power trying to keep everyone she could alive. The other kids who'd been helping her were all quiet, too, which was worrisome.

But I'd spoken to ACE while Jamie was asleep, and he'd reassured me that all the children were and would be fine, and that ACE was also fine and still on the case, protecting Earth and its inhabitants in the ways he could, just as Algar and Naomi protected us in the ways they could.

Fine or not, all the kids were clingy, Lizzie included. She hadn't let Siler out of her sight and on the rare occasions when he went to the bathroom, she was sticking as close to me and Jeff as she could manage without asking us to carry her around like the little kids.

Camilla, Rahmi, Rhee, the flyboys, and the Rocky Mount security teams were still MIA, there was no sign of Stephanie the Huntress, and Drax had made no moves. It felt like the eye of the hurricane to me—the calm in between the two big storms.

Buchanan came over to me. “Nothing's going to be the same now, Missus Executive Chief.”

“Yeah. So many decisions need to be made. I know I'm supposed to be excited, but now that it's all over, or at least we're getting a small chance to catch our breath, all I feel is sad. It's a brave new world I don't think I'm ready for.”

“Oh, I think you're going to find out that the more things change, the more they stay the same, kitten,” Mom said as she joined us, snacking on one of Lucinda's brownies. “State funerals are the worst. State funerals combined with additional funerals that cause the state funeral to last three days? Beyond the worst.”

“I was just getting used to living here.” Looked around the Embassy. “It's finally become home and now we have to move.”

Mom snorted. “You managed to get out of moving into the Vice President's residence, so you dodged that bullet for a year and a half. And it's not as if you're moving down in the world.”

“Speaking of moving, I need to talk to a couple people, since apparently you're telling me to pull up the big girl panties and get on with things.”

Mom laughed and kissed my cheek. “I am. While you do that I'll go relieve your husband and play with my granddaughter. And stop worrying—it'll be fine.”

“Hope so.” Wandered toward Doreen, who was talking with Vance, Guy, Lillian, Abner, Nathalie, and Vander. “Can I join this illustrious party?”

“Absolutely,” Lillian said. “We were just telling Doreen to get ready.”

“I don't know for what,” Doreen said.

Rolled my eyes. “I'm the First Lady now. I cannot be the American Centaurion Ambassador anymore. But the person who should have been doing the job all these years can be. And that's you, Doreen. So, get used to it.”

“I agree,” Jeff said as he joined us. “My mother-in-law has stolen our daughter,” he said to me.

“I thought Mom was going to die. I'm fine with her monopolizing anything she wants, Jamie and Charlie especially.”

Jeff sighed. “I told you we had enough to cure all those who were near death. Angela wasn't even in the closest to death group. But I had Tito give her the vaccine first, since you were so freaked out.”

“Blah, blah, blah.”

“Speaking of those who almost died, how's Langston doing?” Nathalie asked.

“Recovering slowly, but recovering,” Vance answered. Wasn't shocked at all that he knew. “Lorraine and Claudia got to him just in time. Guy's going to be fine, too, thanks for asking.” Gadoire grinned. “My nerves are shot forever, though. Next time you suggest riding on the train, Kitty, I'm saying no.”

“Oh, you say that now, but I know it's not true.”

Raj came over and it was clear he was trying not to laugh. “We just had an interesting call.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“A major entertainment conglomerate would like to create a movie franchise.”

“Thrilling. Why are they calling us?”

“Well, they were actually calling for you, Kitty. I just took the call. They'd like to create a series based on you.”

Stared at him. “Someone's high.”

Raj gave in to his Inner Hyena. “No,” he said when he stopped laughing. “They think that
Code Name: First Lady
has the potential to be a huge action hit.”

The others began talking excitedly about this. Put up my hand. They stopped talking. Clearly, once you were First Lady you had the Power of the Paw at your disposal.

“I think they're punking us, Raj.”

“No, they're not. I'm having contracts sent over, just as an exploratory thing. I'll make sure Charles reviews them, too.”

“Unreal. Okay, since I can't drink alcohol I'm going to go get a Coke and chug it as if it were whiskey and pretend this isn't happening. Doreen, as the new American Centaurion Ambassador, just remember that these lobbyists and politicians are a sneaky bunch. Be sneakier.”

Left this group, still talking about Hollywood calling. Jeff came with me. “I think you'd make a great action star, baby.”

“We are so done with that conversation, Jeff. I think we need to have Siler and Lizzie move into the Embassy or onto our staff.”

“Yeah? Why so?”

“You don't sound like you disagree.”

“I don't. I just want to know why you think they should come in out of the cold.”

“Because, with the uncles dead, they both have lost tremendous protection, just as we have. Lizzie's made enemies, so she can't go back to her cushy boarding school. Siler's made the same enemies in the Cuban Mob we have now, and I think he's rethinking his career. And Buchanan's coming to the White House with us. I think having someone hella sneaky and willing to break necks if he has to on staff will be a huge help, especially since Mom's pulling Kevin off as the Defense Attaché.”

“Promotions cause changes as much as deaths do.”

“So, you agree?”

“Yeah, I do. You'll talk to them about it?”

“Yeah, I will. I'll run it by Doreen first, too.” Grabbed a Coke, chugged it, tossed the bottle into the trash, got another. This one I planned to sip. “Com on.”

“Yes, Chief First Lady?”

“Not the Chief anymore, Walt. That's going to be Doreen. I think you could call me Kitty now.”

“No, ma'am. Missus First Lady it is. What can I do for you?”

“Let's put on some music, Walt. As my last act as Ambassador.”

“Will do.”

Thusly fortified and now hearing the Killers' “Spaceman” wafting quietly from our speakers, went to the Planetary Council folks. They were staying in the Embassy guest rooms because, realistically, in the entire time they'd been here we really hadn't dealt with their issues.

Alexander seemed unfazed by this. What he seemed to be, though, was enjoying himself, at least when we weren't being solemn and crying at gravesides and such.

Queen Renata wasn't willing to leave with her daughters unaccounted for, and I couldn't blame her for that at all. Besides, it was nice to have them visiting. It made things more chaotic, but also a little more fun.

Jeff, Alexander, and Renata started talking about some protocol issues and my ears turned off. Jareen grinned at me and pulled me aside. “The politics never stops does it?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“How're you doing?” she asked.

“Oh, okay. I'll deal with this new world order. I always do.”

She snorted. “That is not what I'm talking about.”

“Oh. That. I don't know yet. Worried, I guess.”

Caroline and Adriana came over and joined us. “I know we know what's coming, but I'm still excited,” Caroline said.

“It's nice to have something to celebrate,” Adriana added.

Didn't want to point out all the things that could go wrong, so I just nodded.

Jeff jerked, then got a big grin on his face. So I wasn't totally surprised to see Melanie and Emily come into the room at hyperspeed. I had all my A-C Extras back, so I could actually see them. Lorraine and Claudia were behind their mothers. All four women were smiling.

“Rebecca Ann Gaultier-White has officially arrived,” Melanie said. “And she's perfect. Mother and baby are doing great.”

“Christopher, on the other hand, is a blubbering mess,” Emily said. “I'm not supposed to tell anyone about that, though.”

“His father is with him and is handling it, Jeff,” Melanie added. “So don't feel that you have to race down to help him. I think Amy wants a little more time with just them.”

“Well, them and your parents.” Emily laughed. “Your mother is kind of hogging Becky.”

“I'm not surprised,” Jeff said. “I'm just surprised Amy's letting her.”

“It's a family love fest down there,” Melanie said. “So, give it about ten minutes, and then go join in.”

Lorraine and Claudia came over to us. “So far, it doesn't look like Amy's mutated,” Lorraine said. “Tito, Magdalena, Rohini, and Bettini are still with her and Becky, though, and still doing tests.”

“She had a totally normal delivery,” Claudia shared. “It was fast, but not bad.”

“So, thankfully, nothing like when I gave birth to Jamie.”

“Nope,” Claudia said cheerfully. “More like how it was for you with Charlie.”

The worry I'd had all day disappeared. “Thank goodness.”

“Immortals” from Fall Out Boy started. Fitting enough, under the circumstances. Sent a mental thank you to our own special immortals—ACE, Algar, Naomi, and any and all other Powers That Be who might be listening.

Lorraine sighed. “Now, we just need to find our husbands and the rest of our missing friends and life'll be back to normal.”

Thought about what Mom and Buchanan had said while I watched the President of the United States happily tell our daughter that her new best friend was waiting to meet her while he held her and her brother in his arms.

“No. Constant change, upheaval, and danger
is
our normal. But, just like everything else—starting with finding the flyboys and the princesses and ending with hunting down Cliff and his cronies—we can handle it.”

Somehow, I was about to move into the biggest house in the world. But I'd made a deathbed promise to never change who I was. So I wouldn't. Megalomaniacs of the galaxy and whoever has my friends held hostage beware. Code Name: First Lady is coming for you.

Available May 2016,
the thirteenth novel in the
Alien
series
from Gini Koch:

CAMP ALIEN

Read on for a sneak preview

“E
XCUSE ME,
President Martini, but we have a situation. It seems the Planetary Council is requesting foodstuffs that, ah, we don't actually have on hand.”

This whispered, worried statement was coming from the head of the White House's household, the Chief Usher, Antoinette Reilly.

She was an attractive black woman a few years older than either Jeff or I, wearing a constantly worried expression for the past week. I'd met her before this, when the now late President Armstrong was the man in charge, and she'd never seemed this ready to request immediate leave as she had been in the week and a half since his death.

And she wasn't the only one. We were already clearly stressing the staff of the White House out beyond their obvious expectations, and we hadn't even officially moved in yet.

“What could they possibly want that we don't have?” Jeff asked just as quietly.

“It's, ah, considered a delicacy. Apparently. Only we would need to import it from, ah, the Alpha Centauri system, and even if we could do so easily, Chef is flat out refusing to make it. And,” Antoinette looked over to me, “ah, I can't blame him.”

Took the leap. “Oh my God, Alexander wants to have the horrid Alpha Four boiled tapeworms dish, doesn't he?”

Antoinette nodded. “Madam First Lady, could you please help?”

“The formality of this new stage of my life is literally going to kill me. Can I order you and the rest of the staff to call me Kitty and have a hope of it sticking?”

Antoinette smiled. It was the first smile I'd seen her crack in a week, so go me. “Possibly in private. But right now, we need your help. Formally.”

Nodded, and turned to look down the long conference table. “Excuse me, Alex?”

Emperor Alexander, Ruler of the Entire Alpha Centauri System—at least as far as anyone on Earth other than those of us who actually knew the political system over there knew—nodded his head toward me in a regal manner. “Yes, Kitty?”

“Dude, you're asking for food that makes humans literally want to barf their guts out. It's a no go. And anyone else requesting personal country or planetary specialties, up to and definitely including haggis, need to run those requests through me. So that I can say no in the nicest possible way.”

“That wasn't what we were going for,” Antoinette said quietly.

“No problem, Kitty. But they're really delicious,” Alexander said, sounding far more like what he really was—Jeff's and his cousin, Christopher White's, younger relative who we'd put onto the throne of Alpha Four—than the Ruler of the Free Alpha Centauri Worlds.

“Dude, gag me. Seriously. Never speak of those things again in my or any other human's presence and we'll continue to love you.” Turned back to Antoinette. “Learn this now—I may have been forced to be the American Centaurion Ambassador, but don't for one moment think I enjoyed the job. I get far better results by living by the cat motto of asking for exactly what I want. And that includes being the
FLOTUS. By the way, FLOTUS really makes me feel like I'm co-starring in a
Finding Nemo
spin off as the chipper strip of seaweed that helps the gang save the day.”

Antoinette was now clearly trying not to laugh. Or cry. Possibly both. Gave it even odds either way. “Duly noted, Madam First Lady.”

“The less said about what movie that title makes me think I'm starring in, the better.”

“
Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
?” Tim Crawford, the Head of Airborne for Centaurion Division, aka the guy doing what remained my favorite job on my entire resume, asked with a quiet snicker.

“Got it in one.”

Antoinette heaved a sigh. Had to figure I was going to generate that in her for the foreseeable future. She was a nice, smart, competent, capable woman, and I felt bad about stressing her out. However, we were still in Major Crisis Mode, and therefore me not being me wasn't in our best interests.

“So, now that we've had an entire week to collect ourselves, what do we do?” It was the day after the third day of State Funerals, otherwise known as the day we buried our friend and the late President of the United States, Vincent Armstrong, and this question was coming from, of all people, his widow, Elaine.

The Former First Lady wasn't normally included in matters of state, but we were possibly the most unconventional politicians the world had ever known, the former unwilling Vice President and even more unwilling President also known as my husband, Jeff Martini, wanted her input, and the man who'd murdered her husband and so many others was still at large. As such, Elaine had joined Team Megalomaniac with gusto.

Frankly, the Current First Lady wasn't normally included in this stuff, but—under the variety of circumstances that had, in just over six short years, moved me from a
happy-go-lucky marketing manager into being a superbeing exterminator, the Head of Airborne, the Co- then Head Ambassador for American Centaurion, and now the wife of the President of the United States—my husband valued my input and so my input would be inputted. This was a fast path career track that college had definitely not prepared me for.

“Jeff needs to assign a variety of Cabinet posts and then some,” Charles Reynolds said. He was the Head of the C.I.A.'s Extra-Terrestrial Division. He was also my best guy friend since 9th grade. He'd been the focus of the Mastermind's insanity, and since Clifford Goodman and his Goon Squad had escaped after Operation Epidemic, that meant we needed to keep Chuckie very safe while listening carefully and acting on his input.

“Starting with Vice President,” my mother said. She wasn't saying this as my mother, of course, but as the Head of the Presidential Terrorism Control Unit. Yeah, my friends and family were definitely representing in the higher levels of government.

“Angela's right as always and we need to assign Embassy staff as well,” Doreen Coleman-Weisman said. She'd been raised in the American Centaurion Diplomatic Corps and was now our Ambassador, since I couldn't do the job any longer. “I realize you're going to say that you want me to choose, but under the circumstances, I want your input, Jeff, as well as Kitty's. And everyone else's, too, Chuck's and Angela's in particular.”

“I think we're avoiding a key issue,” Evander Horn said. He was a handsome black man in his late fifties and the Director of the F.B.I.'s Alien Affairs Division. “And not just because Doreen doesn't want my input specifically.” He grinned at her and she laughed.

“What's that, Vander?” Jeff asked.

Horn pointed to the end of the table where Alexander and the rest of the Planetary Council were sitting. “The
people who accidentally triggered the Mastermind's doomsday attempt. They came here for a reason and we're not even sure what that reason is.”

Alexander nodded. “Yes, I suppose everything has been rather . . . jumbled. Rohini, if you would?”

This was directed to one of the two Shantanu, meaning one of the two giant, colorful penguin-people in attendance. I'd liked Rohini from the moment we'd met him during Operation Civil War, and that he was functioning as Planetary Team Spokesbird wasn't a surprise. He reminded me very much of Alpha Four's version of Winston Churchill, Councilor Leyton Leonidas, and our own Stealth Diplomat, Top Field Agent, and All Around Ladies' Man, the Former Supreme Pontifex of our Earth A-Cs, Richard White.

White was sitting next to Rohini, meaning he was far down the table from me, but of those in the room other than Alexander, he had the closest ties to the Alpha Centauri system, since he'd been born on Alpha Four.

Rohini put his flippers onto the table. “Our earlier stated intent to ask Earth to join the greater galactic community is the main reason we are here. However, we want Earth to join with us because we fear two things—repeated Z'porrah attacks and contact with other alien life from systems far from both of ours.”

The Z'porrah were an ancient race of dinobirds who had a deep-seated hatred of the Ancients, who were an ancient race of shapeshifters. Both races had meddled around with Earth and the inhabited Alpha Centauri planets, with the Ancients winning the overall war. However, we'd found Ancient turncoats working for the Z'porrah on several planets, including Earth. So the concern about the Z'porrah wasn't surprising.

“What indication do you have about other sentient races contacting you or us?” Chuckie asked, covering the surprising portion.

“Since our solar system repelled the Z'porrah so
forcefully, we have received numerous transmissions from planets around the galaxy. Apparently the Z'porrah are very unpopular.”

“Shocker.” Could tell by the expressions of several White House staffers in the room that I wasn't the one who was supposed to be speaking right now. Oh well, they might as well learn how we rolled right now. “So, while we can appreciate the need to show a united front, honestly, we have bigger issues at home that we need to fix first.”

“I agree with Kitty,” Jeff said. “Not that we want to insinuate that the concerns of the Planetary Council aren't important to us. They are. But if there is no immediate threat, we need to get our own house in order. There's going to be tremendous fallout from the situation Cliff Goodman's insanity put us in.”

Alexander nodded. “We agree and understand. And, with your permission, we will stay as long as we are able to assist you in any way, up to and including proving that we weren't responsible in any way for the so-called Alien Virus our mutual enemy released on your unsuspecting populace.”

Alexander had gotten really good at the political speak. Nice to know he'd been spending his time learning, not being a jerk, not that this was a big surprise.

“So, since I'm reassured that we aren't offending the Planetary Council or not paying attention to an imminent threat, who are you thinking of for Vice President, Jeff?” Vander asked.

Jeff looked down the table at Senator McMillan. He was the senior senator from Arizona, a good friend, and one of the few honest politicians we knew. “Don?” Jeff asked hopefully.

McMillan shook his head. “I'm tempted, Jeff, don't get me wrong. But honestly, if I'd wanted to be Vice President, I'd have been Vince's running mate instead of you. And as the President Pro Tempore of the Senate, I can do a lot more good for your presidency by staying put.”

This wasn't a new statement. Jeff had been trying to harangue McMillan to take the Vice Presidential position for the past several days. McMillan standing firm was in keeping with his personality and beliefs, so couldn't really argue. Even though his wife, Kelly, was an alumna from the same sorority as me and I really liked her, meaning I'd have a pal in the White House.

“You need to ensure that whoever you put into the position is either an existing politician or high enough up in a government agency to be a name the public would know,” Nathalie Gagnon-Brewer said. She would know—she'd been the wife of a Representative who'd become our good friend, Edmund Brewer. He'd been murdered by Cliff's people during Operation Sherlock. And the fact that two out of the three men who'd been mentoring Jeff in how to be a good politician were dead at our enemy's hands wasn't lost on me. I'd assigned extra guards to McMillan during Operation Epidemic and had insisted they remain indefinitely.

“What about you, Nathalie?” Jeff asked, clearly not joking.

She shook her head. “I'm a naturalized American, Jeff. I cannot become President and, sadly, as we have just seen, the Vice President is truly a heartbeat away from the Presidency.”

Jeff looked at Vander who shook his head with a grin. “I know that look, Jeff, so let me say no on behalf of myself and Chuck, too. We're both not high enough up in our respective agencies to take the job.”

“Oh, I wasn't thinking of Chuck for Vice President,” Jeff said.

Everyone at the table stared at him, some with their mouths open. James Reader, the Head of Field for Centaurion Division and my other best guy friend since I'd joined up with the gang from Alpha Four, found his voice first. “Why the hell not?”

Jeff grinned at Chuckie's hurt look. “Because I already have a job that Chuck's by far the best qualified to do. Due to Goodman's virus, we have an opening—I want Chuck to take over the C.I.A.”

“I'm already the Head of the E-T Division, Jeff,” Chuckie said, sounding confused, which was a rarity along the lines of a blue moon.

Jeff shook his head. “I want you in charge of it all, Chuck. As of right now, you're the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.”