Alien in the House

She shook her head. “It’s such a shame, we’ve lost so many good people this past year.”
    “All from that one committee?” Because if so, then I had to question why Chuckie or Oliver or others who lived for conspiracy theories hadn’t noticed.
    “Oh, no. It’s been a very bad year for us overall. But the Foreign Affairs committee has lost four people.”
    Vance caught my eye and nodded. Took this to mean that his research had shown that this committee had popped.
    “Santiago wasn’t on that committee, was he?” I asked.
    “I don’t think he’d found his place yet,” Irene said sadly. “But Representative Bowers had been on the committee for years before he passed.” She smiled at Jeff. “So perhaps you’ll be able to follow in his footsteps.”
    “I hope not,” I said under my breath.
    “Excuse me?” Irene said.
    “Just wishing we had some donuts.”
    “Oh, I’m sure we could get you a snack if you’re hungry.”
    “Thanks, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Chose not to mention that “donut” and “snack” weren’t necessarily the same thing. Clearly to Irene and Reader, they were. Or else I was the only donut-lover in attendance.
    Would have liked to have had something to do other than fret, though. We now needed to get in and search not only Reyes’ office but the other offices belonging to reps who’d died. We needed help. Not to search but to just get past the lobby because we hadn’t made it out of this area. Oh, we’d tried, and had made it up to the second floor once, before we were told we weren’t authorized to go anywhere yet.
    Had a variety of people I could call, but, based on Jeff’s opinion, decided to go for the Inside Man. Dug my phone out from under the Poofs and called Nathalie back.
    “You’re ready for lunch already?” Nathalie asked with a laugh.
    “No. We need help.” Explained the situation. “We foolishly thought this was all handled somehow, based on how fast everything else has happened. Any suggestions for what we can do?”
    “Hang on. Edmund and I will be there shortly. He’ll handle it.”
    Had no idea if Brewer could really help in this situation or not, but it was probably better to have another rep come by as opposed to asking Mom or Chuckie to assist. I wasn’t clear on how well-liked the C.I.A. or P.T.C.U. were on Capitol Hill, but figured betting on “not well” was closer to right.
    I was bored, so I went and looked out the doors to watch for the Brewers. A cab pulled up and a man who was clearly an elected official of some kind got out. This was something to occupy my mind, so I watched him. He paid the taxi driver, turned toward the steps, briefcase in hand, and jerked his head as he put his free hand up to his neck.
    As the taxi pulled away out of the loading area and onto the street, the briefcase dropped out of the man’s hand. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest. Then he fell flat on his face.
    It happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to scream. But that was okay. Irene had come over to join me, perhaps to share news of donuts or snacks, and had seen some of this, and she was covering the screaming part.
    Jeff and Reader didn’t hesitate. They ran outside. The boys ran after them.
    I ran after all of them. “Check his neck,” I said as they picked the man up and got him out of the rain and into the building. I looked up and around. I was certain someone was on the roof. But they hadn’t been shooting at me or Jeff. So, was it the Dingo and Surly Vic, Raul, or someone else?
    Decided there was only one way to find out and it was stupid to stay standing out in the rain, so I went inside.
    The man was on his back and Reader was doing CPR. It didn’t seem to be helping. Irene was on the phone, crying, getting help of some kind, and Vance was doing his best to comfort her. Len and Kyle were watching for other attacks. Oliver was on his phone.
    Jeff pulled me aside. “There was a small mark on his neck, like a bug bite.”
    “I think the shooter was on the roof.”
    “You think he was shot?”
    “Yeah, I do, though obviously not with a bullet. You know, Jeff, we’re here with another dead guy. That can’t be good for the press. They’re already calling us the Embassy of Death.”
    “It’s just a coincidence.”
    Thought about this. “Is it?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’re rushed into accepting a position, and told that you have to be sworn in
the next day
, when, frankly, January third isn’t