Alien Diplomacy

“I’m with a…secret organization.”
    “Wow, me too. What’s the freaking name of your secret organization?”
    “What’s the name of yours?”
    “Oh, for God’s sake.” I had to figure Jeff had picked up what was going on by now. “My husband’s going to break down that door in a moment, and then you’re going to have a lot more to worry about than secret handshakes and tricky passwords.”
    I looked at the stuff in the tray. None of it looked familiar. None of it looked waterlogged, either. “How the hell did Peter or the Dingo or whoever the hell he was give you all that stuff, and, more importantly, how is it that none of it looks like it took a swim in the Potomac earlier?”
    “These things were with him when we checked him in. He didn’t say they weren’t his. And he was quite specific that he only had one living relative in town. So why are you listed as his next of kin?”
    “I’m assuming because we saved his life.”
    “Why? You’re working with him?”
    “No. You know, my husband asked me that, too, why I wanted to save his life. So did everyone else. I can’t tell you why, I just didn’t think it was right to let him and the other dude who spent all day trying to kill me drown. Not, I have to mention, that I have a problem killing the big bad fuglies, at least under most circumstances.”
    “What other ‘dude’?”
    “The other guy who came in with Peter the Dingo Dog Man. There were two of them, both admitted. I saw them get strapped onto the gurneys myself.”
    “Shit.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “There was only one admitted. That means they took the other one.”
    “Who is ‘they’?”
    “Our enemies.”
    “When you say ‘our,’ do you mean enemies of yours and your secret organization’s, enemies of mine, or enemies of both of us?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m really considering the benefits of just hating your guts right now.”
    Nurse Carter cracked a smile. “I can understand that.”
    I decided to just go for it. “Look, is this about the assassination attempt that’s going to happen at the President’s Ball?”
    She stared at me. “What? What are you talking about?” She seemed genuinely confused. It so figured.
    “Oh, great. So, since you seem unaware of that, let’s just identify what the hell plan you’re working on, for, or against, shall we? Just so I can sort of keep it straight.”
    She blinked. “What are you talking about?”
    “That’s exactly what I’m asking you. Let me speak slower—what the hell is going on, and why are you still pointing a gun at me?”
    Nurse Carter seemed to reach a decision. “I’m with the Paraguay Secret Police. I’m investigating dangerous alien activity in our country. We’ve traced the ones in charge back to people in your government.”
    “When you say ‘my’ government, which one do you mean?”
    “How many governments do you work for?”
    “Technically? Um, I’m honestly not sure. The lines get blurred and all that.”
    She stared at me. “You are Angela Katt’s daughter, aren’t you?”
    “I might be.”
    “Are you insinuating that your mother works for more than one government?” Her eyes narrowed again. “Is she still Mossad?”
    “Not to my knowledge, but I think it’s once in, you always get to go to the alumni dinners sort of thing. But, no, my mother works for the President of the United States.”
    “But you don’t?”
    “No. I mean, I’m not against the President, or the U.S. Or anything like that.” She relaxed a tiny bit. I decided to go for it. “I work for American Centaurion. I mean, that’s why I’m one of their head diplomats.”
    “You’re what?”
    Why was this a surprise? We weren’t exactly flying under the radar these past few months. “Are you the worst informed member of covert ops in history? Why are you asking me this?”
    “You’re listed as a senator’s aide.”
    “Well, I have no idea where or how, but I’ve never assisted any senator with much of anything.” Oh, sure, Jeff and I had eliminated Leventhal Reid at the end of Operation Drug Addict, but he’d been a member of the House of Representatives.
    Nurse Carter reached into a pocket and pulled out a picture. She looked at it. “This isn’t you,” she said, somewhat accusingly.
    “No idea whose mug shot you’re looking at, but I’m not going to apologize for it not being me.”
    The guys chose this moment to finally breach the door. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot her,”