Alien in the House (31 page)

“D
OWN!”
I shouted as I flung myself on top of Jeff. His eyes were closed and he didn't move.

Heard the boys hustle Brewer inside, heard Nathalie screaming and Len telling her and Brewer to stay down and stay quiet, as Chuckie and Reader got out, amidst the screams of passersby. Heard a bird's scream. It wasn't from pain—Bruno was going after the shooter.

A car peeled out somewhere nearby. But I wasn't paying much attention to all of this. I was looking at Jeff. Specifically at his chest.

His coat was a mess—ripped up and shredded, with pieces of metal strewn all over. Brown and red flecks were slathered everywhere across his chest. “Oh my God, Jeff,” I whispered, as I put my hands over the hole to stop the bleeding.

Only there was no blood.

Jeff's eyes opened, then he blinked. “What the hell?”

“Stay down,” Chuckie said, as he knelt next to us. He wasn't looking at Jeff. His gun was drawn and he was scanning the area. “Don't talk. Jerry's got an ambulance coming and Doctor Hernandez will be here soon.”

“Why?” Jeff asked.

“You were shot.” Could tell my voice was shaking. “There's metal and . . . stuff everywhere.”

“I don't feel shot. I feel hit, but not shot. I want to get off the street.”

“No.” Chuckie looked at him. “What the . . . ?” He holstered his gun and ripped Jeff's jacket and shirt open. There was a huge bruise forming over Jeff's left pec, but no blood. “I'm willing to call this miraculous.”

Looked at my hands and realized what the miracle had been. “It's the tea.”

“What?” Chuckie sounded confused and shaken. I could relate.

“The owners where we ate lunch gave us tins of tea as a gift. They were heavy and in stainless steel, and Jeff had them in the pocket over his hearts. I didn't realize they could stop a bullet.”

Chuckie flipped Jeff's clothes over and examined the damage. “It's because the shooter used a hollow-point.”

“How can you tell?” Jeff asked. “And can I get up?”

“Not yet. Area's not secure.”

“The limo would be,” Jeff pointed out.

“No,” Chuckie said sternly.

“How do you know it was a hollow-point?” I asked Chuckie. He hadn't answered and I wanted this information.

“The pattern. Hollow-points are designed to cause more damage when they hit. They have less velocity than a non-hollow bullet, though. So the tins of tea were able to deflect the bullet, versus just be the first things it passed through.”

“A regular bullet might have gone through Jeff, or through you and Jeff,” Reader said, voice tight, as he knelt down next to us. “But if the hollow-point had gone in, it would have expanded and probably splintered, sending bits through the body, bouncing off bone, and so on.”

“So they specifically wanted to kill Jeff.”

“Want to explain that?” Chuckie asked. “The Peregrine knocked you out of the way, Kitty.”

Thought about it. “No, he knocked both of us, and if he hadn't, then the bullet would have hit Jeff's head.” Felt sick to my stomach, and a little dizzy. “They were aiming for Jeff. The bullet's the proof. You can hit me with a regular bullet and I'm likely to die. But A-Cs heal fast, and Jeff's survived worse than one bullet. However, it sounds like even an A-C would have trouble with a hollow-point.”

“Maybe,” Chuckie said. “I'm not convinced.”

“I'm not either,” Reader said. “Though I can agree that, based on the bullet, the shooter only wanted to hit one of you.”

“Or he wanted to hit them both and the bird knocked the second target out of the way,” Chuckie said tightly.

“Can the first target get the hell out of the street?” Jeff asked. “I'm not hurt. Well, I hit my head on the car or the concrete or something, and my chest hurts, but neither is life-threatening.”

“It's clear,” Kyle said, coming over. “We can't find anyone. Field teams are spreading out. Ambulance will be here in less than five minutes, Doctor Hernandez in less than one.”

“Cancel the ambulance,” Jeff said. “And tell Tito to stay home. We're heading there right now anyway.”

Kyle nodded and stepped away to make the calls. Tim joined us. “I have another limo coming. We have too many people to get out of here.”

“Floater gate would work,” I suggested.

“Not in the middle of the street,” Chuckie said. “It's bad enough that we have a crowd forming.”

Looked around. Sure enough, we had a lot of people in a ring around us. Len, Jerry, and Vance were officially keeping them back.

“I want up off the street or I'm going to bust some heads,” Jeff growled.

Chuckie sighed, but he nodded. He and Reader helped Jeff up, while I retrieved his fedora. Jeff bent down and helped me up. “It's okay, baby,” he said softly.

That did it. I clutched the fedora and burst into tears. Jeff pulled me to him, held me, patted my back, and kissed the top of my head. To applause.

He wasn't really hurt, the danger seemed past, and my face was nestled between his awesome pecs, rubbing against the hair on his chest. My libido helped me get over my crying jag relatively quickly.

Heard another car pull up and doors open. Hughes and Walker had arrived. I knew this because I could hear them politely giving orders to the crowd. Got the impression they were in their Navy uniforms, because people appeared to be obeying.

Decided I should take one for the team and pull my face out of Jeff's chest. Did so unwillingly. “You okay now, baby?” Jeff asked.

“For the time being. I hope the Elves can whip up new clothes pronto.”

“I'm sure they can. Which car do you want us in?” he asked Chuckie.

“You go with the new one,” Chuckie said. “Reader, get in with the Pontifex and get him to the Embassy pronto.”

“Oh, yes, sir,” Reader said. “Sorry about this, Jeff.”

“It's not your fault,” Jeff said. “It's not anyone's fault. It's just part of what's going on. Let's talk about it at home.”

“What's going on?” Chuckie asked, eyes narrowed.

Reader sighed. “We were going to bring you up to speed after Jeff was sworn in. We'll do it on the way.”

Chuckie looked at me. My turn to sigh. “Yes, yes, I know what's going on and yes, I'll tell you in the car. I just don't want a lecture, and to ensure there won't be one, trust me when I say that, right now, I can start crying again at the drop of a hat.”

“She did it once,” Jeff said with a laugh, as he took the crumpled fedora out of my hands. “So I believe she could do it again.”

Chuckie shook his head as he got us, Hughes, Walker, Len, and Kyle into the car, while Reader got Vance into his. “Everyone's a comedian.”

“What about the police?” Jeff asked.

“What about them? I'd rather be home.”

Chuckie nodded. “Let's get to the Embassy, and while we're headed there, why don't you two tell me exactly what's going on?”

I
T TOOK LESS TIME
to catch Chuckie up than anyone else so far, in part because he didn't interrupt me with questions, and in other part because I was so emotionally freaked out I was talking at close to hyperspeed.

“I'm not sure if I can buy the murder mystery theory,” he said as we pulled into the garage behind Tim's limo. “At least not based on this last incident.”

“Raul is out there.”

“So, apparently, is the Dingo. Nice of you to be protecting him.” Chuckie's sarcasm knob was at eleven. Twelve loomed on the horizon.

“He's protecting me, and I believe that.”

“Maybe. But one or both of you would be dead if not for your Peregrine. They may be animals, but they're more trustworthy than any human. Particularly assassins. And men who may or may not be a missing and presumed dead traitor.”

“Presumed traitor. If we really met the human, living Colonel Hamlin, he's not the traitor.”

“You think. We have Buchanan in the infirmary, and that tells me that Hamlin wasn't our friend.”

“You're just mad because you were on the suspects list.”

Chuckie snorted as we got out of the car and he motioned the other guys to go on ahead. “Kitty, if you hadn't had me on the suspects list I'd say you were an idiot. Of course I should have been there. Your mother, too. I agree with every reason you all had for taking us off the list, just as I can understand why Cliff's still on it. But unless you're looking at all possibilities, you can't hope to find the truth.”

“Your feelings aren't hurt?”

He shrugged. “A little. But only because I know I'm not the Mastermind, if there really is one.”

“There could be,” Jeff said as we started slowly for the stairs.

“I'm a lot more worried about emotional blockers and overlays that our scanners can't find,” Chuckie said. “To me, that's the biggest issue we have.”

“Just means we need to learn to counter it,” Jeff said.

“No,” Chuckie said patiently. “It means that someone understands your strengths. And your weaknesses. And if they can block the empaths, then it's only a matter of time before they can block the imageers. And if you have no empathic or imageering skills, then what, exactly, do you think the A-Cs bring to the table in terms of their usefulness to the United States in particular and the world in general?”

I looked at Jeff's chest. The bruise was already starting to fade. “They're strong, fast, smart, hard to kill soldiers. And if you give them Surcenthumain, they're even better.”

“There are other options,” Jeff said. “We do them already. Math, science, space, medicine.”

“The majority of people doing your brainwork are women,” Chuckie said. “Kitty's being realistic. You need to be, too.”

“Why is it always the War Division?” I asked nobody in particular.

“Because we're all warlike,” Vance said. Hadn't realized he was waiting for us. We stopped walking. “The others went on upstairs already. But I just wanted to ask if you believe my theory now. Maybe with the C.I.A.'s help we can stop whatever's going on.”

Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “No. I mean, I don't. Kitty does. But I don't disbelieve it, either. We don't have enough proof, of anything yet.”

“Okay, so, Vance isn't wrong about a lot of representatives being dead. Why hasn't that popped to you, of all people, in some way? I'd expect the Conspiracy King to be taking an interest.”

Chuckie heaved a sigh. “Really? Fine. We had a huge interstellar invasion, and since I'm the head of the E-T Division, I'm on the line for anything related to that. We've had every A-C on the planet outed—guess who's in charge of everything relating to that? Right, me. I'm trying to get married and have world governments involved in those plans, complicating them in the extreme.”

“Okay, I know you've been really busy, but this is your ‘thing.' I'm just surprised you're not even sort of aware.”

Chuckie rolled his eyes. “I realize this is coming as a shock to you, but I don't have time or interest in anything that isn't relating to aliens right now. You want to ask someone at the F.B.I. why they're not paying attention? Go for it, it's their bailiwick. Let me be around to hear what they say, though.”

“Fine, fine, calm down, Secret Agent Man. Not meaning to diss the skills.”

“Whatever. Basically, Vance could be right, but since I haven't seen any of his evidence, and, from what you said, neither have you, I can't make a determination.”

“Then let's go visit Hacker International.”

“We can't,” Vance reminded me. “Jeff has to be sworn in.”

There was a clatter of feet on the stairs before anyone could remark on my ability to forget something that big. Len came down, looking stressed. “Kitty, you need to get up here, right away.” He turned and ran back up.

“Okay, that was different.” I started forward.

Chuckie held me back. “Me first.” He drew his gun and started up. I went after him.

Jeff held me back. “No. You come after me.” He followed Chuckie.

Looked at Vance. He shrugged. “I'm great with you going ahead of me.”

“Hiding behind the girl?”

“Protecting your rear.” Vance added a leer in case I'd missed the double entendre.

“Don't let Jeff hear you say that, particularly in the way you just said it.”

“I'm a lot of things, Kitty, but as stupid as I appear actually isn't one of them.”

“Vance, this actually could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”