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"Maybe," Reader said, voice tight. "But does that mean we're putting all of you in danger?" he asked Jakob.
"Possibly, but we're used to it. I doubt that he's going to make a move against you while you're here-starting a war doesn't sound like it's in the interests of the Corporation."
Didn't agree but also didn't want to sleep in the bushes by the Lincoln Memorial, so I didn't argue. "I can't believe that all your things are . . . gone."
"Our things," Chuckie said gently. "And it's okay, baby. The things that mattered are here. Most of our mementos and pictures are in Australia anyway."
"Do you think he's going to destroy that house, too?"
"I hope not." Chuckie hugged me again. "I'm not sure what to tell the kids. Or your father."
"The truth. We got out just in time. The kids already know someone really wants to kill us. So does Dad. Were the neighbors hurt?"
"Doesn't look like it," Leah said.
"One small favor. Okay, it's been that hour we told the kids they were getting. I need to get upstairs and get them into bed. You coming with or do you want to stay down here and strategize?"
"We'll monitor your other home," Leah said.
"What about your parents?" I asked Chuckie. In my world, A-Cs would be getting them to safety right now.
"We have them under surveillance," Leah said. "As well as your home in Australia. Our agents are aware that the C.I.A. has a mole and that mole is trying to destroy rival agents. We can get your parents if you want us to, though."
"They've been sitting ducks for years," Chuckie said. "But I don't like the idea that we just leave them there and hope for the best. On the other hand, freaking them out over nothing can lead to a variety of issues, not the least of which being that they have no idea what it is I'm really doing."
"I have an extended family that could be destroyed, too."
"I don't want to sound cavalier about our families, since my parents are also cluelessly sitting at home believing all I do is model, but I think the best way we protect everyone is to stop Goodman."
"James has an excellent point. So, do we tell the kids tonight or tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Chuckie said firmly. "They won't sleep if they know their home has been destroyed, and no one else with us will, either."
It was decided that Reader and Chuckie would stay downstairs and go over potential familial targets while I went and handled the kids.
Oren turned out to be the best babysitter in the world. He had the kids in their nightclothes and their teeth brushed before I got there. Told him there were things he needed to get caught up on downstairs, then tucked the kids into one of the two queen-sized beds in this room.
"Glad you're all small enough to fit, but no kicking or shoving. Share the bed nicely and equally."
"We will," Charlie said earnestly. "Where's Daddy?"
"Working. You're stuck with me."
"Do you give goodnight kisses?" Jamie asked. Both boys stared at her, in shock as near as I could tell.
"I sure do." Gave her a tummy tickle and a kiss. She squealed with laughter.
Gave the two boys a hug and kiss. "Stop looking surprised," I whispered to them as I hugged them both at the same time.
The kids settled down. "Can we listen to music?" Charlie asked.
"Sure." Dug through the purse to find the iPod. There was a nice stereo dock in the room and I plugged it in. "Who do you want to hear?"
"Jack Johnson!" Max said.
Managed not to ask if he was serious, but only just. Jack Johnson had been on the radio when I'd switched places, and, per Caroline, Other Me loved his snoozer tunes. No worries. Snoozer tunes were what was called for right now anyway. Got it going and the kids snuggled down. Couldn't bear to focus on the music, so I focused on getting undressed and ready for bed.
Apparently I wore a lot of nighties in this world. Most of them were not appropriate to sleep in the same room with the kids, let alone with a man who wasn't my real husband. Kept the T-s.h.i.+rt I was wearing on and found a pair of soft cotton shorts and went with that.
Decided I was exhausted and lay down on the other bed. Stripes left his bed and snuggled with me. Jack Johnson worked his magic-I was out like a light.
Woke up briefly when Chuckie came in. He changed quietly, kissed each of his sleeping children, then slipped into bed next to me. He sighed quietly but didn't touch me. Felt bad. Reached over and stroked his hair. "It'll all work out. I promise."
He took my hand, kissed it, then moved it gently back onto the cat. "Thanks, Kitty. It's just been a h.e.l.l of a day."
"It has. Get some sleep. I expect tomorrow to be worse."
He leaned over, kissed my cheek, then rolled onto his side, so we were back-to-back. Jack Johnson was still crooning away and I heard Chuckie's breathing go rhythmic fast. Relaxed and went back to sleep myself.
This time I had a vivid dream. We were facing off against Cliff and LaRue and they killed Chuckie and Reader and Buchanan. Disintegrated them. They couldn't get me, I was too fast, but they killed everyone-Dad, Caroline, Aunt Carla, the kids, the Israelis-until it was just them and me.
Cliff's face broke open and the Fugly of My Nightmares appeared. Mephistopheles was big and red, but I didn't smell his breath in the dream, so that was one small favor. "Why are you visiting me in my sleep again?"
"Because I like you."
"And you don't like the current Mastermind?"
"No. For many reasons."
"Okay. Not gonna lie, it's weird having you showing up and hanging out in my head, but at the same time, at least you're from my universe."
He nodded. "We were joined once. And that means we will be joined forever."
"Lucky me."
"Some would think so."
"So, why are you here, other than to put the finis.h.i.+ng touches on my 'everyone's gonna die' nightmare?"
"You have the power I had when I arrived on your world. You can use yours the same as I did, you know."
"Except I'm not going to, and you know that."
"I do. However, you are still acting as if you are in your own world. You are as alone as Superman here. But a frontal attack is not always effective. Sometimes, when you're the only one with the power, you have to use it. Alone. With great power comes great responsibility."
"Pulling out the comics cliches much?"
"You comprehend them so much better than other options."
"True enough. But even Superman has a team, and Spidey does, too. I get no help? No backup? No sidekick? No mascot?"
"A mascot and a sidekick are acceptable. But they must know they are the mascot and sidekick." He smiled at me. It remained a combo of nice and horrifying. Focused on the nice. "You have been given an opportunity I took away from you. Don't waste it." He patted my head and, with that, he was gone.
Woke up yet again. This time, there was no reason, other than, you know, a nightmare and a Fugly Advice Session. Got out of bed quietly and checked on everyone, just in case. All sleeping soundly. Stripes woke up and came with me to investigate.
Sure, we were supposedly in a secure facility, but things were turned upside down here. Slipped my jeans and Converse back on, grabbed the hoodie, and slunk to the door. Stripes came with me. "You don't want to go fast with me. I'll be right back, promise," I whispered to him. Then I carefully opened the door and stepped out of the room.
Nothing and no one in the hallway. Zipped off at hyperspeed and checked on the others. Everyone was fine. Checked out the entire emba.s.sy, what I could access anyway. All fine, most asleep, some on guard duty, but I moved past them at hyperspeed so they didn't see me.
Got back to our room in less than thirty seconds. Stripes wasn't at the door, though. He was sitting in my purse.
The problem with this safety check was that I was wide awake. Wide awake, revved up, and contemplating what my nightmare had told me. Looked at Stripes. He blinked slowly, got out of my purse, and trotted to his food.
While he ate, I wrote Chuckie a quick note so that he wouldn't panic if he got up before I was back. Double-checked that the Glock with its single clip was in my purse. Hadn't had the brains to grab more clips, but if I thought about what Chuckie had said earlier and Mephistopheles had said in my dream, I was a superhero. I was Wonder Woman. Well, really, still Wolverine with b.o.o.bs. But either way, I could kick b.u.t.t and take names in a way that no one else on this Earth could. I didn't need backup or the cavalry. I was the cavalry.
Made sure I had hair spray in here, because, hey, you never could tell. Took the iPod, too, and happily found that Other Me carried portable speakers, just like I did. Tossed whatever else had worked in the past in there, because why not?
Stripes finished when I did and sauntered over to the purse and jumped in. He was taking the role of Approved Mascot, thank you very much. Decided not to argue-cats could yowl to wake the dead and I knew without asking that Stripes was going to raise h.e.l.l if I didn't take him with me.
Kissed Chuckie on his forehead, did the same with the three kids, and then Stripes and I slipped out of the room again.
Hyperspeed meant I was able to get in and out of a door so fast that it wouldn't trip an alarm system. The downside of doing this was that I couldn't take one of the cars-they were in the underground garage and I couldn't access it or get a car out without waking the entire emba.s.sy.
My original plan had been to figure out where Cliff was headquartered and use Raul's car to take us there, giving us the potential of camouflage and surprise. Since the house had been blown up, it was clear that wasn't going to work. Any of us driving up in Raul's car would just indicate it was time to shoot to kill.
No worries. I was used to discarding plans, after all, and if it was just me, I didn't actually need a car. And per Mephistopheles, it needed to be just me. And, frankly, I'd do anything to avoid seeing my latest nightmare come true.
But that meant I was going to have to use hyperspeed for everything. Again, no worries. So many people I loved were dead here, it was easy to get the rage going. It was an impotent rage, focused generally, but it was enough. Did a running jump and cleared the fencing easily. Go me.
Stripes meowed softly as we trotted off down the street. He felt he was superhero material and that he could take the hyperspeed. And if he did toss his kibble, he'd do it outside of the purse.
"You rock, Stripes. Plenty of barfing area where we're headed."
Fortunately, I knew these parts of D.C. well enough to not get lost as I headed us to the Lincoln Memorial. Got there fast-not as fast as Jeff, definitely not as fast as Christopher, but darned well up to Top Field Agent status.
Would have gone to the bushes first, but things were so different that I wanted to check something. Went up to the Memorial itself and stopped running. Stripes showed that he was the Cat of the Ages because he only hacked a little and really didn't throw up. And he'd just eaten, too. I was impressed.
Happily, the Memorial looked the same-same words, same sad, tired Lincoln looking down on me. I was about to leave and go handle what I'd come here to do, when I heard a man's voice, talking softly.
"I just don't know, sir. They say you're a hero if you're the only one who survives, but I don't feel heroic. I feel sad and tired and useless. And this new a.s.signment . . . it's not what a hero does, sir. It's . . . cushy and a reward. But it's a reward I don't want. And it's a reward I don't trust, either."
Crept around to see who was talking to whom. The guy talking wasn't speaking to anyone I could spot. Then I realized he was talking to the Memorial, to Lincoln.
The speaker was a slender guy a little younger than me with strawberry blond hair, dressed in Navy dress whites. He wasn't smiling, but I knew who he was. Gave an involuntary gasp.
He heard me gasp and spun. "Who's there?" His hand was on his gun, but he hadn't pulled it yet.
"Just me." I stepped out, hands up in front of me. "I heard you talking and just wanted to know who else was here."
"Ah." He relaxed. And now looked embarra.s.sed. "I was just . . . I needed to talk to someone who would . . . understand."
"I hear you. And I feel exactly the same way." Sat down on the top step.
He came and sat with me. "What brings you out to visit our nation's greatest president, ma'am?"
"I just discovered . . . many people I care about are dead or gone or very different. I'm normally a pretty cheerful person, but discovering people I love are gone, some long ago now, just . . . hurts."
"I understand."
"Yeah, I think you do." Mephistopheles had said I'd been given an opportunity he'd taken away. Now I knew what he meant. And, as they said, nothing ventured, no one to say you were totally mental, right?
"Have we met, ma'am?" he asked.
"Sort of. It's a long story. Something of an unbelievable story."
He chuckled. "I don't report to my new duty until oh-nine-hundred, ma'am."
"Call me Kitty. And, tell me, do you prefer to be called William, Will, or Bill, or should I go for formal and call you Lieutenant c.o.x?"
CHAPTER 48.
I HADN'T BEEN IN PARIS for a while. I loved this city, and a part of me wished we could stay here longer. However, we had a mission, and it needed to be completed as soon as possible so that Jamie woke up with her parents there with her.
Martini caught up to me. "We can do this via hyperspeed if you want. You can lead, I provide the speed."
"Okay, that makes sense."
Richard took hold of Charles and Malcolm and nodded to us. "Lead on, just remember that we don't need to go at supersonic speed, Jeffrey."
"Wouldn't want you straining, Uncle Richard, don't worry." With that, we zipped off.
We were still going fast, but it was, somehow, slower than the other times Martini had used hyperspeed. We ran through the entire area a couple of times and I had to stop. "I'm sorry. I can handle going that fast now, thanks to whatever pill you gave me. But I can't see at that speed, not clearly enough to spot something I'm pulling up from memory. But I think I spotted where to start."
"Then it was worth it," Martini said. He kept hold of my hand. We were out in public, and that meant there was always a chance for photographers, so this was smart.
We wandered a little bit, but while I spotted some shops that were familiar, and some that were clearly new in the last couple of years, I wasn't finding the specific shop I needed. And we needed it, because if Singh had already checked everywhere online, then we only had this one shot.
"You sure it's this one item that's the key?" Martini asked me as we wound through some tiny side streets.
"Yes. I can't tell you why so much, other than that, in my world, Margie loved it. It was truly a one-of-a-kind item."