Alien Diplomacy

in the War Room, as I currently thought of the ballroom. It was really the Doom and Gloom Room, however, since we were still exactly nowhere.
    Strangely enough, I was no longer worried about it. We had the head’s up that something was going down, we were all at our highest DEFCON Oh My God status readiness, and clearly the clues weren’t helping us anyway. Maybe they’d all gel before everyone died. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was all we had going for us.
    I did have a question, though. “Mom, what did Vance tell you?”
    “Absolutely nothing, kitten. He spent most of his time crying hysterically.”
    “Where is he now?” Maybe I could get something out of him.
    “We let him go home. Politically expedient. He was escorted home. No issues.”
    So much for that idea. “He told me he knew who the target was. He also said he felt he was the next target, after Jack Ryan, because he had said knowledge.”
    “If that was true, kitten, he certainly didn’t want to share it with me.”
    “You did the whole interrogation thing? I mean, really pumped him?”
    Mom gave me a long-suffering look. “No. Because he wasn’t under any kind of suspicion of dangerous activity. He was being shot at, just as you were. Meaning that I’d have hell to pay to explain why I’d been hard on him without any cause.”
    “I suppose.” I wondered if Vance could really lie to my mother.She was hard to fool, and she wasn’t trusting. Jeff had said he’d read Vance’s emotions, but he’d been fooled before—he’d had no idea any of the human drivers he’d assigned to me were traitors. So, if the lie is good enough and the liar even better, it was doable. Mom had never, ever fallen for any whopper I tried to pass, but then again, Vance wasn’t her child, thank God. But that did mean she could miss things, especially since Mom hadn’t been able to do the real interrogation stuff.
    I decided I needed to find and question Vance myself. Should he actually still be alive and at the Ball. Then Mom dropped the bombshell.
    “No one who isn’t listed as an operative can wear or carry firearms. In particular, no one who’s a part of the American Centaurion Diplomatic Mission can be carrying weapons of any kind.”
    “Well, that blows.”
    Mom gave me the hairy eyeball for that one. “Kevin and I are only carrying with Presidential dispensation.”
    “The President is okay with none of us being armed to protect him and God alone knows who else?”
    Mom heaved a sigh. “He knows we have a threat, but this is standard procedure. The Secret Service will be on site, in droves. And—let me stress this— none of you are listed as legal law enforcement officers, meaning your carrying guns or other weapons in would identify all of you as the assassins. Hopefully the screening will identify whoever the actual assassins might be, not that it ever does. Now, I want all the weapons removed, and I want to see them on the table.”
    With much grumbling everyone dumped their weapons and, in the case of the men, shoulder holsters. To my dismay, Chuckie was among those dumping. “Why aren’t you carrying?”
    “Because as far as most of the attendees are concerned, I’m an international playboy, remember? My cover can’t be blown for this event.”
    “I’m under the impression the entire population of D.C., if not the world, knows who we all are and what we do. I sometimes feel like the only people we’re fooling are ourselves.”
    Chuckie shook his head. “I told you before, you’re used to seeing the more, ah, active side of things, and that meant you were running into people who know what’s going on because they’re cleared for it. Some of the people that will be at the ball are cleared. Most aren’t. So we have to ensure our covers don’t slip.”
    “And you’re saying they don’t tell their cronies the truth?”
    “Not as often as you’d think,” Mom said. “Because if they’re found out, they lose a lot more than their security clearances. Internal Affairs exists in each agency, and their entire jobs are to find and stop leaks, corruption, and illegal activities within their bureaus. That extends to the politicians in the know as well.”
    “Okay, if you say so. But can’t James and Tim take in weapons?”
    Reader shook his head. “Girlfriend, as far as the rest of the attendees are concerned, at this event, I’m Paul’s husband. Only.”
    “And you need to be sure you don’t tell them who we really