Alien Diplomacy

I’m pretty sure our dogs could have won.” Though I wasn’t positive. The three German Shepherds had been darned big, and all my dogs tended more toward the lover, not the fighter, side of the house.
    “Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” Chuckie said. “Anything else? At all?”
    Len looked a little uncomfortable. He took a deep breath. “We went by several other Embassies on our walk. Specifically, the Paraguayan Embassy. Twice, once from each side of the street.”
    Chuckie gave me and White a long look. “Which one of you suggested that?” He didn’t sound happy.
    White shrugged. “I did. We found nothing of interest.”
    “The curtains were all closed,” I added. “Not that I know personally because I stayed on the street with Jamie, the dogs, and the boys.”
    Chuckie raised his eyebrow. “Really?”
    “Yes,” White said. “I did a quick check at hyperspeed. All curtains closed, no real sounds coming from inside. However, that means nothing—I’m sure their soundproofing is excellent.”
    “See? I’m not an idiot, Chuckie.”
    “Yeah? I’ve heard those kinds of protests from you before. They always come right before you do something even more dangerous than you’ve insisted you won’t do.”
    “Well, we did get some other information, too.”
    Chuckie’s eyebrow rose again. “Really? What? And just when did you plan to share?” He didn’t sound pleased. At all.
    “It’s that Jack Ryan supposedly offed himself, and as for when, when we were home.” I gave him what we’d gotten from Marcia and Nathalie. “They didn’t mention that their husbands had dropped by yesterday, either.”
    Chuckie shook his head slowly. “I’d assume that visit wasn’t on anyone’s books, and I doubt any of those who came to see us told their significant others about it. Most of what they do ends up being classified. I can’t stand any of them, but the ones with high-level clearances have them for a reason. I’m with you, though, on Ryan’s ‘suicide.’ The timing’s just a little too convenient.”
    “You think the C.I.A. took him out because he leaked about the President’s Ball?”
    “Possible, but no one believed him.”
    “Well, someone did, because I really don’t think Mister Jack ‘I know Tom Clancy had me in mind when he created the character’ Ryan was the suicidal type.”
    “There was also someone watching Kitty,” Len added. “A man from her Washington Wife class.”
    Chuckie gave me the hairy eyeball. “Really. And when were you going to share this tidbit? Never, later on this afternoon, or when we’re all running for our lives?”
    I refrained from calling Len a narc, but it took effort. Then again, Chuckie had hired him and Kyle specifically, and, as he’d be the first to remind me, the people protecting you have a right to share when you’ve been a tad free with the risks.
    “Geez, dude. Home. I was planning to tell you, Jeff, James, Tim, and whoever else when we got home, which, if the Stooges hadn’t shown up, would have been about ten minutes ago.”
    “Right. Does your husband buy it when you toss this B.S. at him?
    I shot my best withering glare at him, to which Chuckie responded with his Dead Man’s Stare that was, frankly, a lot more intimidating than I’d ever let him know. “Scoff all you want, Secret Agent Man. I was telling the truth.”
    “Sure you were. So, who’s your latest stalker?”
    “Malcolm Buchanan. He’s sort of a loner, but, unlike ninety-nine percent of the class, he’s never been nasty to me. However, I’ve never seen him around outside of class before these last couple of days.”
    “He following you because he thinks you’re hot?” Chuckie asked, as if this could be the likely reason.
    “Could be. Len thought so,” Kyle said, while Len gave him adirty look. At least neither one of them was blushing. “I can’t say I’d argue with the theory, either.”
    “Oh, please.”
    Chuckie shrugged. “You’re the one who tends to be clueless about this sort of thing. I, on the other hand, spent half a lifetime watching men pine for you.”
    Since Chuckie had been, as far as I knew, the only one so pining, I didn’t want to continue this conversation. I was enjoying not feeling guilty every day for not realizing he’d been in love with me. It was never a line of thought that made Jeff happy in any way, either. Plus, there was too much weird going on.
    “Flattering as it is that all of you seem to think I’m a