Alien Diplomacy

bellowed just before the first grenade went off, as he grabbed me, pulled me to him, and shielded me with his body.
    It was a stun grenade, at least to judge by the fact that we all fell to the ground but weren’t hit with shrapnel or even falling debris. It felt like the world was shaking, my vision was barely there, my ears were ringing, and I was disoriented. The calm part of my mind mentioned that this still wasn’t as bad as any gate transfer when I was pregnant.
    The dogs were all howling in pain. That the A-Cs weren’t was the surprise. Or rather, that one A-C wasn’t.
    Jeff had been knocked down just like everyone else. But he recovered almost immediately. He leaped to his feet and picked me up off the ground, one arm around my waist. He went to the super hyperspeed, grabbed Reader, and flung the two of us inside the limo, onto White and Gower, who seemed to be recovering, though not as fast as Jeff had.
    I got onto my knees on the seat as Jeff went back, flung Tim over his shoulder, grabbed Chuckie and Kevin, and tossed them all in on top of us. I just managed to avoid getting buried under the falling bodies. Jeff picked Len and Kyle up off the ground and flung them into the front seat.
    He slammed the doors shut then raced over and tossed the flyboys into their limo. I could hear him, and he was shouting orders, in full-on Commander Mode, getting the other A-Cs up and moving.Each agent had a K-9 unit or two and dragged them into the nearest limos. Jeff grabbed Ishmael, who’d managed to hold on to Prince, and headed them for the nearest limo, which was the farthest from the one I was in.
    I saw the laser shields go around our limo and the others, one by one, presumably indicating the human drivers were recovering, at least enough to hit the shield buttons.
    Jeff was moving so fast he’d done all of this in about five seconds. A part of me marveled that I could see him at the super-duper speed. Most of me was just hoping he’d be fast enough to get inside one of the limos before the next grenade went off. Because while it was horrible, we’d heard at least three drop, and I knew only one had exploded. So far.
    “Everyone able to see and hear?” Reader asked. There were fast assents. “Good. Len, you able to drive?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Then get ready to get us out of here as soon as Jeff’s in a limo. Kyle, get on the intercom and send that order to the other cars.”
    I thought everyone was in a limo, so in relative safety, but as Jeff tossed Ishmael into his limo, Prince yanked away and raced off. I saw where he was heading—for one of the remaining grenades. And I didn’t think they were going to be as benign as the first one.
    “Prince! No! Come here!” Hey, he was already my buddy. I tried to get out of the limo, but White and Gower grabbed and held onto me and I couldn’t.
    Jeff saw the dog and didn’t hesitate. He ran and picked him up, as though Prince were a Pekinese instead of a German Shepherd. Which was great. Only they were now far from any of the limos.
    I tried to see if they’d gotten away from the remaining bombs—only the world blew up around us.



CHAPTER 72
    T HE EXPLOSION WAS LOUD, and it shook like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was horrible, in a completely different way from the stun grenade. I could tell the remaining grenades had gone off at the same time, or close enough, but it felt like the whole world had exploded.
    The noise was incredible—even louder than my screams, which were at the dog-only register. It rattled us even inside the laser shield. I almost bounced out of White and Gower’s hold, but they both clamped down, and I couldn’t get away to get out to Jeff.
    “Let me go! Jeff’s out there!”
    “We can’t go look for him until this stops,” Gower said.
    “Why not?” I was still screaming and felt no need to stop.
    Chuckie got over to me, took my face in his hands, and forced me to look at him. “Calm down. Right now,” he said sternly. “You can’t help him if you’re hysterical, and none of us can help him until it’s at least somewhat safe to get out of the car.”
    “But—”
    “Stop it! You don’t panic, you don’t freak out. You stay calm and in control until it’s all over and everyone’s safe. Then, and only then, do you get the luxury of freaking out, melting down, or losing control.” He was quoting my mother. She’d taught me, him, both of us, that. Mom had been in this situation many times before. And she’d