Alien in the House (5 page)

“Y
ES, ‘UNCLE' PETER?
What can I do you for?”

“You can tell me where you are.”

“Ah, why would I want to do that?”

“Because I believe you are holding something very dangerous.”

Huh. The plot thickened. Or rather, just got weirder, which was pretty typical for my life these days. “How dangerous?”

“Causing much pain and suffering, and death, kind of dangerous.”

“Well, I guessed as much, honestly. But how do you know about it?”

He sighed. “I have been watching your Embassy.”

“Why? Or rather, who in it or coming tonight is on your hit list?”

“No one.”

“I'd fall on the ground laughing, only I want to be able to run away should whatever's in the plain brown wrapper go boom.”

“Truly. This is . . . a favor.”

“For whom?”

“For you.”

“Why?”

“Because someone is being a . . . sore loser, I think you'd say. He was told to move on, but has chosen the path of revenge. Revenge is not a good choice for people in . . . my line of work.”

Thought fast and furiously again. During Operation Assassination, there had been two assassination teams assigned to get us, me in particular. One had been Peter the Dingo Dog and his cousin. The other had been Bernie and her husband/partner Raul. Buchanan had taken care of Bernie, but Raul had been arrested. I'd never seen Raul in person. But I knew he'd seen me.

Our enemies were released from prison all the time, because we had very powerful enemies. So Raul likely being out wasn't much of a shock. And Buchanan had killed Raul's wife to save me and Jamie, and that meant Raul had the best revenge reason in the world to disobey the Dingo's cease and desist order.

“Okay, so where's Raul?”

“You are so much smarter than you like to appear.” He sounded incredibly proud. The idea that the Dingo might actually be thinking of me as his niece, as someone to protect, crept up and waved quietly.

“Thank you. Um . . . so, I appreciate you warning me. Should I dump the package into the river?”

“You're close to the Potomac? Again?”

“Yes. Though like you and your cousin, I don't want to go swimming in it again any time soon. How is he, by the way?”

“Very well. He is also watching.”

“To protect me or to finish the job? Or for a new job?”

The Dingo sighed again. “Understand that there are . . . rules in our line of work. If there were no rules, then we would have anarchy, yes?”

“Yes, right.”

“When someone chooses to break the rules for personal reasons, those reasons must make sense.”

“I hate to say it, but revenge makes sense.”

“No, not for our line of work. The risks are high, but so are the rewards. Unprofessional behavior is for terrorists, for amateurs.” The way he said it, it was clear that the Dingo was only in favor of professional terrorists.

“You're worried that your business will dry up because if Raul offs me and potentially a lot of your customers, then word will get out that it wasn't a paid hit but a revenge hit, and the Assassination Union will raise the rates or something.”

“Something like that, yes. So, where are you?”

“I ask again, why?”

“I wish to find you and disarm the package.”

Package, not bomb. “What's in the package?”

“Something very bad.”

“I guessed. Tell me more.”

“I don't have to.” The voice wasn't on the phone any more but behind me.

Spun around to see the Dingo and his cousin, Surly Vic, standing there. They were both in dark suits and appeared unarmed, but I was positive they were both packing more heat than I could hope to count. Still had that Smooth Criminal Who Could Be From Anywhere look, but since I knew, I could spot the little bits of East Slavic in them both.

Hung up my phone and shoved it back into my pocket. “Your GPS tracking is really good.” My phone started buzzing—someone was texting me. Decided that being rude right now would be the stupidest move of my life. Whoever it was could wait.

The Dingo shrugged. “Yes.” He nodded to Surly Vic, who went and got the package.

“Are you sure it's safe for you to handle?” My phone rang. Ignored it.

“We will exercise care and I appreciate your concern.” The Dingo smiled at me. “Please give my best to your sister, when it is appropriate. She was a lovely young lady, and I hope she's doing well?”

He meant Caroline Chase, my sorority roommate and bestie. The Dingo had been dating her, sort of, during Operation Assassination, though she'd had no idea he was an assassin. Our lives were just that kind of glamorous.

“Um, will do, and yes, she's doing great. I'm sure she'd tell me to say ‘hi' for her. If, you know, she knew you were here and we were chatting.” Maybe. Anything was possible, after all. “So, what do I do now?”

The Dingo shrugged. “Return home, have your party. We will deal with your problem.”

Shook my head. “I don't think it's just Raul.” My phone continued to ring. I continued to ignore it and hope whoever was calling would take the hint.

Both assassins looked at me. “How do you mean?” Surly Vic asked.

“Someone had to help him get the package into the UPS truck. And I'm here because I was chasing someone I thought was dead. Raul may actually have a paying assignment.”

They both shook their heads. “He does not,” the Dingo said vehemently.

“Oh, so it's the old ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend' ploy, right?”

The Dingo beamed at me, looking all proud. Even Surly Vic seemed impressed. Nice to know that I was considered Top of the Class by someone. It was always the folks on the wrong side who thought so, but better to be appreciated than not at all, right?

“You must be cautious,” Surly Vic shared. Wow, clearly I'd moved into that “family” spot for him, too. I was lucky that way.

“I'll do my best. But isn't it kind of bad for you guys to be back in town? I realize Operation Assassination went down months ago, but you're still on everyone's most wanted lists.”

They both shrugged and seemed completely unfazed by my name for the big event. For all I knew, they were flattered by my naming choice. “We have work to do,” the Dingo said. “Not work you will care about, I must add.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive. I would not lie to you about that.”

“Why
not
?”

They both chuckled. “You are . . . special,” the Dingo shared. “You have honor. And, therefore, you deserve the truth. We are not here on assignment for anyone you would care about.”

“You're here to off Raul.”

“And other enemies. Of ours and yours.” Surly Vic shook his head. “We need to take this and disarm it. We have time. I believe it's set to go off in a few hours if it's not opened.”

“Are you that amazingly good—and don't for one moment think I'm insinuating that you couldn't be, because nothing you two can do will surprise me—or is that just a really good guess?”

Surly Vic smiled at me. I managed not to faint or let my total shock show, but it took effort. “Just a really good guess. Based on a great deal of experience.”

“What is it, just out of morbid curiosity?”

“Most likely a small bioweapon,” the Dingo replied. “It would explode, killing and maiming some, but it would also spread a dread disease amongst all there, and within the building.”

“A raze the building to the ground kind of disease?”

“Most assuredly.”

“Um, you know, my letting the two best assassins in the world walk off with a scary bioweapon bomb is, well, not sounding like a good idea.”

Surly Vic shrugged. “We could let you take it with you, and then, when someone who did not know how to disarm it triggered the bomb, you and your family and friends could die. Or we can remove the danger.”

“Gosh, when you put it that way . . .”

The Dingo came to me and patted my shoulder. “We both give you our word—this bomb will not be used against anyone. We will dismantle it and deal with its creator. In the meantime, exercise caution and open nothing remotely suspicious.” He handed me a phone. “This is the phone I used to call you. It is programmed with only one number. Use it if you need our help or even think you need our help.”

The top international assassination team in the business had just given me their version of the Bat Phone. Didn't know whether to be flattered or freaked out. Settled for both.

“Thank you. I assume this is a burner phone and so is the one it will call. I won't let anyone know.” I hoped. Jeff might already know, of course, but only if he was monitoring me. Wasn't sure if I'd given off enough stress vibes for him to have noticed otherwise.

“Yes. We will be in touch if necessary. Keep this and your regular phone with you at all times, even when sleeping.”

“I will do. Hoping that this isn't also a bomb or a trigger of some kind.”

They both chuckled again. “You are wise to always question,” Surly Vic said. “But, as my cousin has said, we give you our word—we are here to protect you, and that phone is part of that protection.”

Surly Vic nodded to me, Peter the Dingo Dog patted my shoulder again, and then they both took off. They were out of sight fast.

“Thanks,” I called to no one. Well, likely no one. For all I knew, they were close by and would appreciate my being polite.

So, I had two new fairy godfathers who were going to protect me by killing people. I'd have questioned how my life had gotten this bizarre, but I already knew—I was just lucky this way.

D
ECIDED CLARENCE WAS
probably long gone and I'd better do what my new BFFs, the Assassination Squad, said. And, as Christopher always shared with me these days, any chance to practice was time well spent. He usually snarled that at me, but it was still probably sound advice. And I was sure Peter the Dingo Dog and Surly Vic would agree with the sentiment.

My phone was still massaging half of my butt with its nonstop buzzing that traded off with nonstop ringing. Pulled it out to see a lot of texts and missed calls from Buchanan. Decided not to read them because I could guess what they were saying and figured I could talk faster in person.

Took one more look around, saw nothing and no one, and took off for home.

Went back to Sheridan Circle, to find Buchanan there, trotting around the park, looking completely freaked out.

“Malcolm, what's up?”

His expression went to relief. “Where the hell did you go? You've been gone for well over fifteen minutes. And you didn't answer any of my calls or texts.”

We were about seven minutes from the cemetery by car, less if you hit lights and traffic right, so that meant the Dingo had been tracking me before he'd ever called my phone. Not a surprise, really. That Buchanan hadn't spotted the Dingo and Surly Vic was more surprising. Wondered if he was feeling alright.

“Did you alert the Embassy?”

“No, I was too busy trying to find you. But if you'd been gone another minute, I would have. And then I'd have had your mother start GPS tracking you via your phone.”

Was glad the Dingo had sent me home. “I wasn't paying attention to my phone, I'm sorry. I ran after Clarence.” Wasn't sure if I should mention my visit with my “uncle.” Buchanan reported to my mother, and Mom would
not
enjoy discovering I'd let the Dingo get away. Again. No wonder the Dingo Dog and Surly Vic were fond of me.

“Clarence Valentino? He's dead.”

“He's not. We never found his body, remember?” We hadn't found Ronaldo al Dejahl's body, either. However, they weren't the only bodies that had been missing at the end of Operation Destruction—the supersoldiers and superbeings had done a lot of damage, some of which had ensured that there were a lot of folks listed as missing who were, sadly, probably dead.

“There were a lot of . . . partial bodies, if you recall.”

“I'd rather not think about it.” This was quite true. Thinking about the aftermath of Operation Destruction always made me want to cry and hurt evil people who were already dead. Then again, I was now pretty sure that one of those people wasn't actually dead. “But I saw him. Clarence was here, in the Circle, and then he ran off. I followed him, but lost him in the cemetery.”

Buchanan shook his head. “I didn't see him, or anyone who looked like him.”

“He helped get the package with the bomb delivered.”

Buchanan went into Alert Mode. “What package?”

“Um . . .” The package I no longer had, and which, point in fact, I'd given to the assassins I didn't want to mention to Buchanan. “I got rid of it.”

Buchanan went from Alert Mode into Skeptical Mode in the blink of an eye. “Where?”

“The river?”

“Really. Who was the package from?”

“I don't know.”

“What was in it?”

“Don't know.”

“So, you got a mysterious package and decided, what, to throw it in the river? Was this before, after, or during the time you were chasing a dead man through the streets of D.C.?”

“After. I think.” Was about to ask if Buchanan didn't remember that I'd been holding a package right before I ran off. Realized it would then take us right back to me having to lie to him some more. Stopped myself from speaking, but this left my mouth hanging open.

Buchanan gently closed my mouth and then put his hand on my forehead. “You don't seem to be running a fever.”

“Ha ha ha.”

He heaved a sigh. “This isn't funny, Kitty. I realize you saw something, I could tell by how you were acting. But you shouldn't be running off without someone else along.” Buchanan didn't look angry; he looked worried. Felt bad—I didn't want to make him worry or feel like he wasn't doing a good job, and I wasn't enjoying lying to him at all.

“Sorry. Next time I'll take you, okay?”

“Yes, the next time you run off chasing figments of your imagination, please make sure I'm along for the ride.”

“Okay, um, I'll just get back and keep things rolling for tonight. And, you need to be careful, okay?” If Raul was after me, he might also be after Buchanan.

He sighed. “I'm always careful.”

Buchanan walked me back to the Embassy. No one seemed to be looking for me, which was well and good. So either Jeff wasn't emotionally monitoring either me or Buchanan, or he'd felt that I had the situation well in hand and would grill me for details later. Issue tabled for now, then.

Took the stairs up, in part to practice, because Christopher lived to ask me how much practice I'd put in each day and I obviously couldn't share my recent exploits without breaking my promise to the Dingo. Why I cared about that I couldn't say, but I'd been taught to go with my gut, and my gut said the Dingo was telling me the truth.

And if Buchanan, who'd been there, hadn't believed me about Clarence, would anyone else, even Jeff? I had no real proof, after all, and truthfully I'd never seen the man up close enough to be a hundred percent sure. Decided I'd table this issue as well.

I was great with my A-C powers if I was enraged and channeling She-Hulk or racing after presumed-dead enemies. However, I still had to work at using my talents when things were calm.

Well, my hyperspeed and superstrength talents. I'd scored other talents, and those I never seemed to have issues with.

Which, as I left the stairs on the fourth floor a little fast, was a good thing. Two huge birds that looked like peacocks on steroids appeared out of nowhere. The Peregrines each grabbed one of my wrists and lifted me into the air. My speed slowed to normal and they put me down gently.

“Thanks Bruno and Ken.” I gave liberal scritchy-scratches to our Royal Avian Protectors. “Lola and Barbie guarding the kids?”

Bruno cooed and looked at me. Yes, their mates were on Nursemaid Duty. This was, as had been proved a lot during Operation Destruction, a really good thing.

A soft mewing sounded and then there were balls of fluffy cuteness on my shoulders. “Harlie, Poofikins!” The Poofs were small balls of fluffy fur, with black button eyes, cat ears, and tiny paws. They could also go Jeff-sized if danger threatened, meaning that we'd seen the Poofs large and in charge a lot since we'd found out they existed.

Chose not to ask why no Poofs or Peregrines had shown up for an assist earlier. Because the danger hadn't been all that great was my guess. And I hadn't called for them.

The Poofs were also Royal Protectors, only we'd had them a lot longer than the Peregrines, since they arrived as part of Operation Invasion and ended up being the best wedding gifts anyone could get.

Well, we'd had some of them longer. The Poofs were androgynous and mated whenever a royal wedding was imminent. Apparently the Poofs felt that many more people were getting married, they'd stocked up due to the Dino-Bird Invasion, or else they'd decided all of American Centaurion and our military and research side, Centaurion Division, were part of the Royal Family, because we had Poofs up the wazoo.

Not that anyone minded, me least of all. Poofs for everyone and more Poofs for me was my motto.

The Poofs and Peregrines had some rivalry issues, but our flock of a dozen mated Peregrine pairs and our massive pack of Poofs had chosen to listen to me and get along with each other.

Yes, they listened to me, literally, and I could understand them, at least somewhat. Because the A-C “talent” I'd gotten by benefit of the Surcenthumain Boost was the ability to talk to the A-C animals. Dr. Doolittle had nothing on me. I hadn't told my parents, Jeff, Chuckie, or Reader yet, but I was getting pretty good with our Earth dogs and cats, too. I wanted to save it for when I was sure someone had a camera handy, so I could preserve their expressions forever.

Of course, the Peregrines were the reason we had a Zoo to go to tonight. Because Pierre wasn't going to shuttle all our guests to the Washington Zoo. He meant the five-story building next to ours, which had taken severe water damage several months ago. It had been my idea to buy it, fix it up, and turn it into a zoo to house the Peregrines and anything else that might show up from the Alpha Centauri system.

This idea, originally scoffed at by most if not all of my nearest and dearest, had turned into a goodwill gesture and publicity stunt that was working really well. The Peregrines were, like the rest of us, “out” as being aliens, and they went on display a couple of times a week. We kept said times random for security reasons.

The Poofs had been spotted during the invasion, too, so some of them did Zoo duty as well. We had every toy manufacturer in the world in a bidding war over who was going to get the Poof licensing rights. Chuckie, by dint of his business acumen and ability to multitask like no other, was handling all of that “fun.”

We'd also built an enclosed walkway from our second floor to the Zoo's second floor, as well as kept the top three floors of the Zoo for regular people use. Which, apparently, included tonight's dinner party. The idea made sense, so I wasn't surprised that Pierre had come up with it.

Thusly escorted by my exotic feathered and fluffy friends, I entered the daycare center. Before we'd taken over the Embassy it had been an exercise room, and much of that, the pads on the floors in particular, were still around. But Pierre and Denise Lewis had really done it up nicely and it was now totally safe for children, Poofs, and Peregrines. Dogs and cats, too, since my parents' pets were still housing with us and, per Jamie, were lonely without her.

Speaking of my favorite bundle of cuteness, she saw me, and ran to me, squealing, “Mommy!”

I picked her up and gave her a big kiss and hug. “Good job, Jamie-Kat!” She was working on moving at human speeds, and doing well with it. Jamie was, in point of fact, doing far better moving between human and A-C speeds than I was, but I chose to look at it as her being gifted and super-special.

She was just days under a year, but Jamie was moving fast in terms of development. All A-C babies did some things faster than humans, but Jamie was beating the normal A-Cs. She'd said her first word at the end of Operation Destruction, and in the months since then, had moved from baby talk to little kid talk. She'd started standing on her own at the end of our last fracas, too, and wasn't toddling so much as being kind to the adults and human kids and not really going for it in terms of all-out running and such unless the circumstances were dire.

No sooner than Jamie was in my arms, than the tide of canines hit us. “You sure having them here isn't a problem?” I asked Denise.

“Oh no, they're very well behaved and the children love having them.” She had the cats in their carrier, and trundled it over to me. Due to Jamie's demands that the cats go everywhere with her in the Embassy, their carrier was now an extra-large luxury deal on wheels with a handle for pulling.

The cats seemed okay with their Feline Winnebago, probably because they liked traveling in style and with their own band of Poofs along. I wasn't positive, but it seemed to me that Sugarfoot, Candy, and Kane had Poofs that they considered theirs, just like the rest of us. For all I knew, the dogs had their own Poofs, too. There were certainly enough Poofs in there with the cats to accommodate every Earth pet we had and then some.

“Where are the rest of the kids?” I asked, as the human kids, Raymond and Rachel Lewis, trotted over, too. These days, we had several other hybrid children at the center—all those who had parents working at the Embassy, on Alpha, or Airborne—and I was used to seeing them and getting daily hugs and kisses.

“Picked up already. You're a little late, but that's never a problem. We all like spending extra time with Jamie.”

Decided not to offer any excuse for why I was late since Denise didn't seem to care. Besides, getting rid of the Bomb of Badness was a good thing, right?

Raymond was a serious little boy of six and his sister was a sweet little girl of four. Their father, Kevin, was a gorgeous black guy with bags and bags of charisma. Denise was a gorgeous blonde with her own bags of charisma. Both of them had fantastic smiles with fantastic teeth on top of everything else. They were pretty much the perfect couple, and you couldn't hate them because they were also incredibly nice.

Surprising no one, their children were also gorgeous, with fab smiles and their own little bags of charisma. I wasn't sure if Raymond was too old for Jamie, but I was willing to go for the arranged marriage idea, because in addition to all their other fine qualities, the Lewises were also all smart. Hey, I wanted my daughter to marry well. Sure, after she'd grown up and found herself a career she enjoyed, but it was never too early to plan, right?