Alien in the House (45 page)

“N
O,”
Jeff said flatly. “You are not going to this without me along.”

“Sorry, you're not invited.
You
are the target, not me. Besides, I'm sure Rahmi and Rhee will be thrilled to be given a mission by the Great Tito, and I'm equally sure they'll kill any man I tell them to and not even think about asking questions later. They can move at hyperspeed, they're stronger than A-Cs, and they have an even faster ability to heal.”

“Take your Glock,” Mom said. She looked at Jeff. “Kitty's right, she's going, you're not. I'll have Charles knock you out if you argue. Because, what none of you know is that the President wants Jeff in the severest form of protective custody.”

“Does he think Jeff killed Brewer or anyone else?”

“No. He, like you and Vance and, frankly, me, thinks that Jeff is a target. Now that I've brought the number of dead representatives to his attention, the President is also worried that we have a conspiracy or serial killer on our hands. And the absolute last representative the President wants killed is our first A-C congressman.”

“I don't care, Kitty's not going to this meeting without me. I don't want her going at all, but if she's going, then she's taking me, period. And that's an order.”

White cleared his throat. “Ah, Jeffrey, I hate to say this to you, but you're actually not in a position to give anyone in the Embassy orders any more. You're now a congressman. Missus Martini is the ambassador and, as such, her word is law in here.”

“James,” Jeff said. “You can overrule her.”

“I can, but I don't think we want me to. We have nothing to go on. The leads we have are all going on a fast path to nowhere. We think it's Clarence, but we don't know. We think Raul the assassin is Leventhal Reid's relative, but we don't know. People are dropping dead all over and we have no handle on why or how. You were shot, and it's only by a miracle of a string of coincidences that you're alive at all. If we have a chance to get some clarity, even a little, then I say we go for it.”

“I'm not going to allow my wife to have a midnight meeting with assassins,” Jeff growled. “And that's final.”

“Then I have no choice but to arrest you,” Mom said. “For your own good.”

Jeff's jaw dropped. “You can't be serious.”

“I can and I am. I'm not talking as your mother-in-law. I'm speaking as the Head of the P.T.C.U.”

“It's Mom's turn to use me for bait, Jeff. And, just like way back when, I approve and endorse being the bait.”

“Jamie's birthday is tomorrow,” Jeff said quietly, but with a catch in his voice.

Went to him and hugged him. “I know. And I'll be there for it. I'm not going alone. I'll be with four others, and we all have hyperspeed. Richard and I know what we're doing, we really do. The princesses will protect us. And Raj will find what Christopher couldn't.”

“What is
that
supposed to mean?” Christopher asked, as I received a nice blast of Patented Glare #5.

“You've been searching for where the assassins are holed up. Chuckie thought that they might be using someplace in the cemetery as a base. The Dingo asked me to meet there, so I think the likelihood just went up. But you don't think like a sneaky human—and that's a compliment—so you're not going to spot where a really sneaky human would be hiding. Chuckie would be best for this, but he can't go. So Raj will have to do.”

“What makes you think Raj will be better at this than me? He has no Field training at all.”

“I'm happy to arrest you, too, Christopher,” Mom said.

“I don't want to go. I mean, I would if Kitty wanted me, but clearly she prefers my dad. But at least they've worked together before. What does Raj have that I don't have?”

“Troubadour talent and an actual awareness of popular culture,” I answered without missing a beat. “He's also seen all the evidence we found. And the only reason Raj has no Field training is that you wouldn't let him have any. I'm not prejudiced against troubadours like you are. So he's coming with me.”

“I agree,” Mom said, voice icy and completely in charge. “And I want to make sure that every person in this room understands that the person with the most authority
in
this room is me.”

Jeff and Christopher glowered, but they both shut up. Everyone else other than Kevin and Chuckie had I'm A Good Boy or Girl expressions on their faces. Kevin and Chuckie merely looked like they were enjoying that Mom was laying down the law to someone other than themselves.

“I'm approving this, but I want all five of you in Kevlar. I don't want to hear any whining about it being heavy or itching or anything like that. You're in Kevlar or you're not leaving any more than Jeff is.”

“No problem, Mom. I'm all for not getting shot.”

Reader made a call. “We'll have something for all five of them before they go.”

“Good, thank you, James. Kitty, when is your meeting?”

“Ten at night.”

“Fine. Go brief your strike force, then relax until it's time to get ready to go. Jeff, if you put one toe out of the Embassy Complex I will shoot it off, is that clear?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh. “Fine. I'm neutered, you don't have to put the plastic collar on me, too.”

Hugged him again. “It's not being neutered. It's being protected. Because I don't want to experience what Nathalie is going through right now, ever.”

He hugged me back. “I don't, either, which is why I don't want you to go.”

“If you two are going to start, do you mind taking it to your room?” Tim asked. “Some of us have spouses who are elsewhere and we're a little bitter.”

“Happy to,” Jeff said, a little too eagerly.

Mom rolled her eyes again. “Kevin, Charles, you're assigned to Representative Martini. I'd assign Christopher as well, but he tends to be as much of a problem.”

Michael, Abigail, and Naomi Gower came in. “You wanted us, Amy?” Michael asked.

“Yeah. Kitty's about to do her usual, and Jeff and Christopher are confined to the Embassy. Chuck and Kevin are on guard duty, but I think it'll be a good idea to have some A-Cs along who can keep them in line.” She looked at Mom. “If that's okay with you, Angela.”

“Works for me,” Mom said tiredly. “As long as Lorraine and Claudia are at Dulce.”

“All of Airborne is at the Science Center,” Tim confirmed.

“Bummer,” Vance said quietly.

“Do you want them brought out?” Tim asked Mom.

“No, but have them stay ready.”

“Kitty's a bad influence on you,” Christopher said to Amy, who just laughed.

“We're happy to help,” Abigail said. Michael nodded.

“What can we do?” Naomi asked with more than a little disinterest in her tone. “I mean, me and Abby. Any more.”

“Can you help keep Jeff and Christopher in the Embassy Complex?” Amy asked. “If yes, then we need you to help. Because we can't trust them to behave like adults right now.”

“
Fine,
” Jeff said. “I'll be a good little boy and let my wife run headlong into danger. Again.”

Reader shrugged. “It's her specialty, Jeff, and you know it.”

“You can come with me to tell Tito about the fun orders he gets to hand out to Rahmi and Rhee.”

“So, that would be me, Christopher, Reynolds, Kevin, Michael, Naomi, and Abigail included in this field trip?”

“Yeah. It's a party. Vance can come, too, so he can see Nathalie, if she's conscious.”

“We have hours to kill before you leave,” Reader said as we headed for the elevator. “So make sure the ‘party' focuses on what little solid intelligence we have. If we can figure out who's behind what's going on, Kitty and her team won't need to go on their group date.”

T
ITO HAD NO ISSUE
giving Rahmi and Rhee their special orders. As expected, the princesses were beside themselves with the excitement of being sent on this top secret and vital mission. They raced off to work out and prepare in our exercise room, which was where they spent most of their free time anyway.

That took far less than an hour. Nathalie was still sleeping, so we all went up to the kitchen to look one more time at what Jeff and I had brought back from Rayburn House. One by one and in small groups, the rest of the team other than Hacker International wandered into the kitchen to join us.

We hadn't had the findings from the Cannon or Longworth Houses before. Reader brought those and we added them in.

Unfortunately, extra trash, planners, calendars, scraps of paper, and brainpower or not, we weren't getting much more than we'd had, and that included Chuckie. “I'm not seeing anything other than the letter L connection, and while it might mean something, it might not as well.”

“It's on at least a third of the calendars or planners we found,” Raj pointed out. “I think it has significance.”

“It might.” Chuckie shook his head. “But if it does, one letter, with nothing else added in, isn't enough to go on.”

“My Conspiracy King is letting me down? I'm crushed.” I looked around. “Hey, where's Mister Joel Oliver? I thought he slept here last night.”

“He did,” Reader said. “I have no idea where he is, though. He was supposed to tell me if he left.”

Looked around. Oliver wasn't the only one missing. “Com on! Walter, are Mister Joel Oliver, Len, or Kyle within the Embassy complex?”

“No, Chief. Len asked me to tell you, when you noticed that they were gone, that he and Kyle were meeting Mister Joel Oliver at the Romanian Embassy. Mister Joel Oliver left right after you and Representative Martini went to have brunch. Len and Kyle left shortly after you all returned.”

“Super, thanks.” Pulled out my phone and dialed.

“Ambassador, I was wondering when you'd notice the young men and I were missing.”

“Tell me you're over there extracting useful information from Olga, MJO.”

“We are indeed. We'll be back shortly to share what we've learned. It was a hard fought lesson.”

“If it was hard for you, I'm thankful I missed it. I'm a little too stressed to indulge Olga's sense of humor right now.”

“Which she's quite aware of. You'll be pleased to know that your young men gave a good showing.”

“Awesome. Hurry back. The rest of us are very lead-frustrated.”

Tim's phone beeped. “Interesting. Kitty, Oren from the Israeli mission asked me to tell you and Chuck that Pia Ryan was a double agent for, and you're going to love this, France. She was considered a benign mole, by the way, just someone passing along low-level intelligence.”

“There's no such thing as a benign mole in espionage,” Chuckie said. “So, why did Mossad wait this long to tell us?”

“I'd assume because it wasn't relevant until now,” Tim said. “They're trying to help us by running their own intel on anyone who could be involved.”

“And I didn't have a relationship with them during Operation Assassination, which was when Pia's husband ‘killed himself.' You know, if she was still alive, I'd suggest that she was the one who shoved Edmund Brewer off his roof, or at least the one who orchestrated it.”

“Why couldn't she have been?” Jeff asked. We all looked at him. “What? We plan ahead, and we know our enemies do so all the time. Why couldn't she have orchestrated Ed's murder? She wasn't the one who pulled it off, but that's what Clarence was for, right?”

“There are times when I forget why you were the Head of Field,” Chuckie said. “Tim, please ask Oren if they can help us trace Pia's movements for the past week. We have her prior history, but the last few days are key and for them our intelligence isn't as good.”

“Oh. I just remembered something I forgot to tell you all,” I said as Tim texted away.

“You're doing that a lot,” Chuckie said. He looked mildly worried.

“There's a lot going on and I haven't been sleeping well. At least I remembered sooner this time. Anyway, the Dingo said that he and Surly Vic haven't taken a job in the U.S. since Operation Assassination. But good old Raul's number one client is, wait for it, the C.I.A. So, we know how he got out of jail.”

“Tim—” Chuckie started.

“On it, on it, I can only text so fast and I have to pussyfoot the wording for them so there's nothing concrete to be traced.”

Mom put her head into her hands. “Really? You can quote every single song on every single Aerosmith album, but the fact that you've been told a top assassin is getting his assignments from the C.I.A. you forget?”

“Been busy watching people die in front of me for the past three days, Mom. For whatever reason, and my total lack of getting enough sleep, I've been forgetting stuff. I've remembered it all now.” Contemplated asking Walter to play some Aerosmith. Decided Mom would ground me.

“You're sure? You haven't forgotten some vital piece of intel like the name of the person who's behind all this?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Speaking of forgetting,” Raj said, “I forgot to tell you that we brought Representative Reyes' things back here. Representative Brewer's death wiped that out of my mind, too.”

“See? It's not just me. Should we go through his stuff?”

“Yes,” Mom said. “Your father told me about the paper you found in that stuffed animal. It indicates more than just the fact that Santiago found what you did, that there's some dangerous wording in all those bills. It shows he was afraid he was being spied on.”

“And that he thought there was more going on. Per his last line and all.”

Raj and Pierre went to get Reyes' things. We now had more stuff to go through.

“We'll never finish this,” Amy said. “Com on! Walter, I need the hackers down here, pronto, other than Yuri, he can stay up there and keep things going in the Lab. They'll whine about it. Tell them that Kitty and I will kick their asses if they're not here in two minutes.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You want the extra hands or just to make them suffer?”

Amy laughed. “Both. Besides, spotting anomalies is supposedly one of the many things they're good at. Let's see if that's so.”

“Check inside innocuous things,” I suggested as we all started to sort through Santiago's stuff. Well, everyone other than Tim, who was texting like he was a teenager talking to his newest crush. “Santiago hid that paper in a pretty odd spot.”

“That's why he wanted you to clean out his desk,” Reader said. “Because he figured you'd find it.”

“We took everything, including the trash,” Raj said. “Just in case.”

Four-fifths of Hacker International arrived, all looking annoyed, at the same time as Oliver and the boys returned. Amy told them what to look for—anything that might help—and everyone started pawing through and sorting Reyes' stuff.

“Before you tell them where we're at,” Tim said, nodding to our new arrivals, “let me give you the latest from Mossad. Leventhal Reid had no siblings, at least as far as the information shows. However, he ‘adopted' a younger boy when he was home from college. It's a heartwarming story, really. Supplemented his parents' incomes so they could house and raise the kid, sent him to school, everything.”

“That seems far nicer than I'd ever have thought Reid could be.”

“Well, here's where the story starts to sound like the man we knew and loathed. Reid's parents weren't rich, but they had good investments and really good life insurance. They died in a car accident. The police found it suspicious but couldn't prove anything. Reid inherited a small fortune, just in time for his first major political campaign. And the ‘brother' fell off the radar.”

“So, Raul's first assignment was to kill off the people who'd helped raise him?”

“Leventhal Reid was a psychopath,” Chuckie said. “If he found a kid he wanted to raise and train as his own, the smart money is on him finding another psychopath.”

“And, going along with Chuck's theory, it sounds like Reid paid his parents to care for the kid,” Kevin said. “So the kid probably had no love or loyalty for them.”

Tim nodded. “Mossad agrees with Chuck, and I agree with Kevin. They also found records, records that have been sealed and hidden, that show the kid took the legal name of Lars Reid, changed from Raul Diaz. Which is nice and close to Dier, isn't it?”

“I guess Raul's getting a double out of that. So how is Mossad finding all this?”

“Remember Leah? She was at the dinner party?” We all nodded. “She's in Florida, digging through old court records.”

“How did they know to go down there, let alone what to look for?”

Tim shrugged. “Per Oren, Mossad has a strong interest in Raul, because he's killed a variety of their operatives over the years. We told them he was one of our main suspects, they did the math.”

“Strong interest means they want to kill him,” Chuckie said.

“That's nice. So do we.”

“No,” Gower said. “Actually, we don't.”