Alien Diplomacy

had stronger, mutated talents, which was something female hybrids had over the male ones. It made a lot of sense to have the girls here, and when we needed extra muscle we could trust, if he was on the planet, Michael was our go-to guy.
    We’d originally thought Serene was a hybrid, but during Operation Confusion we had discovered she was another one of Ronald Yates’ illegitimate children. She’d handled this news pretty well, mostly because it meant that White was her older brother and Christopher, therefore, her nephew, meaning she actually had family that cared about her.
    That Ronaldo Al Dejahl was also her older brother was something we all did our best not to talk about too much. The rest of us were too busy trying not to worry about how many other illegitimate offspring, either hybrid or mutant-level talented, Yates had left around. Sadly, we had to figure there were a lot; when he’d been alive, he’d made Hugh Hefner look like a fuddy-duddy.
    “And your mom and dad are with the President,” Jerry Tucker, my favorite flyboy, shared cheerfully, thankfully pulling my mind back from thinking about Yates and his heinous ways. “But we can get them on speakerphone if we need to.”
    “Walter’s staying in the Security Center,” Christopher added. As our Acting Head of Security, this made sense. The kid was also still awed to be working with us and determined to be the best security chief anyone could find in any part of the galaxy. I really liked Walter.
    “But I’m on the com, Chiefs.”
    “Nice to hear your voice, Walt. So, gang, what do we have?”
    An alarm went off. “Sorry,” Walter said politely. “But you don’t have time for the briefing, Co-Chief Martini.”



CHAPTER 7
    “E XCUSE ME?” I KNEW HE MEANT ME. No one ever referred to Jeff as co-anything. The benefits of being in charge for his entire adult life.
    “I’m in charge of your calendar right now, Chief, remember?” I did. This was because I’d conveniently “forgotten” the Washington Wife class, so Jeff had added this onto Walter’s list of fun things to do. “You and Jamie have a Mommy and Me class to attend.”
    Of all the classes I went to, Mommy and Me was the only fun one. “I love going, but aren’t we in a crisis situation?”
    Chuckie nodded. “We are. But we also don’t want anyone aware that we know we’re in a crisis situation.”
    “So everyone’s here having a powwow, and yet I’m going to do baby calisthenics?” I felt another pout coming on.
    “Yes,” Jeff said firmly. “Having the jocks along will be enough of a change to alert someone that things are off, but I don’t want you going anywhere alone.”
    “You could come with me. They encourage fathers to attend.”
    “We need him,” Reader said. “We need you, too, but Reynolds is right. We have no idea who the target is, but if we all go into lockdown, we’ll alert the assassin that we’re aware of the plot.”
    “And then they’d pick a new target event, and we’d have no head’s up for that and would have lost our window of opportunity. I get it.” I heaved a sigh. “Well, someone let us know if you figure out what’s going on while we’re off being our version of normal.”
    I trotted back into the bedroom to find Jamie’s diaper bag all packed and sitting on the bed, along with a baby snowsuit with fluffy faux-fur-lined hood for her and a long, black coat with a lessfluffy faux-fur-lined hood for me. Per Jeff, this was done by the Operations Team. Per me, it was the A-C Elves. I’d certainly never seen any of the Elves in person, at least to my knowledge, and they worked like magic. Christopher liked to try to explain this more comprehensively, but his explanation made my head hurt so I ignored it.
    I changed out of my “appropriate” clothes—the Armani fatigues as I called them, white Oxford shirt and black slim skirt to everyone else—since I didn’t have to pretend to be anything but a mom for Mommy and Me. I put on a clean pair of jeans and one of my long-sleeved Aerosmith T-shirts, the ones with the snazzy rhinestones creating the band’s logo. I always felt better with Steven, Joe, and the rest of my boys on my chest.
    Under the circumstances, I got my Glock out of the drawer Jeff thought he had it hidden in, made sure it was loaded, and shoved it and a couple of extra clips into the bottom of my purse, focusing on flowers the entire time. Jeff didn’t come in and rip the Glock out of my possession, so I