Alien Proliferation

mean me, Chuckie and James almost being shot in the head was supposed to be happening?”
    “Tell you later. Just be my good little trophy wife, we’re going to get interviewed shortly.”
    “Are you kidding me? Chuckie told me not to say anything!”
    No sooner had I hissed this into White’s ear when a microphone was shoved in our faces and a reporter was talking to us, rapidly, in French.
    “Tourists. American tourists,” White said, sounding like a confused regular guy. I decided burying my face girlishly in “my husband’s” chest was a better option than opening my mouth, so I did.
    I heard more voices, one of them familiar. Looked out, to see Reader being interviewed. Good, our spokesmodel was handling things. In perfect French.
    Chuckie had Mister Joel Oliver by the arm and was leading him away. Oliver didn’t look to be fighting it. I had no idea if Chuckie was handing him a line of bull, promising an exclusive later, threatening his life, or having Jeff or Christopher do a mind alteration attempt. Decided the World Weekly News getting this story was the least of our immediate issues.
    I looked around, and Tim caught my eye. He gave me a small nod and looked up. I looked up, too. To see a lot of clear balloons resting against the ceiling. Knew where the gas was. Figured they’d added helium to it to keep the gas conveniently out of the way until they were ready to start the test.
    Paris police performed crowd control. I noted that Tim, Tito, all the flyboys, Jeff, and Christopher weren’t anywhere around any more. Neither were Melanie and Emily, though the Gower girls were with us. No Amy, either.
    Our group, or at least the portion of our group here, was herded elsewhere while medical arrived to take Al Dejahl’s and Cooper’s bodies away. Reader was still talking to the police and reporters. Michael and Brian were with him. I got the impression our story was the brave American astronauts on holiday saved the day, but I couldn’t be positive. I couldn’t see where Chuckie and Oliver had gotten to.
    Naomi grabbed me and pulled me to the side, away from the others. “Sorry. We lost concentration at a bad time. But we have to get out of here.”
    “What the hell was and is going on?”
    “Abby and I tapped into Cooper’s mind. He was going to shoot the balloons to release the gas. Our plan was for me and Abby to control Cooper, have him shoot Al Dejahl and then we kill him, thereby stopping the terrorist from killing anyone else. Gets them both out of the way and us out of it reasonably well.”
    “So Cooper shooting at me and Chuckie was there for added excitement?”
    Naomi gave me a dirty look. “No. Abby and I lost concentration when . . .”
    “When what?” I got the usual bad feeling in my stomach.
    “When Mister Gaultier grabbed Amy. Christopher doesn’t know, he was already in place to do crowd control. Chuck does, but he was more concerned about you, Richard, and Jeff. It was hard to tell which one of you was the target.”
    “Me.” I knew Chuckie had known that, too. “Why did Al Dejahl take the bullet intended for James?”
    “James is good at fake throwing. First grab looked like he was protecting Al Dejahl. Then he tossed him so it looked like Al Dejahl was being a hero and saving the handsome celebrity.” Naomi managed a small smile. “James is really amazing.”
    “True, very true. Anyway, how did Gaultier take Amy? No way she went with him willingly.”
    “Uh, gun to her temple? He didn’t shoot us only because we didn’t try to stop him.”
    “Great. Yeah, we have to get out of here.” I looked up at the ceiling. The guys looked precariously perched around the upper levels. I concentrated, and a shimmering bubble went around the balloons. I squinted, and the bubble started to shrink. The balloons popped, but noiselessly, and the gas didn’t escape. Made the bubble smaller and smaller, until it disappeared.
    “How did you do that?” Naomi sounded freaked and impressed.
    “Tell you later.”
    Jeff and the others joined us shortly. Figured they’d used hyperspeed. He came up next to me. “How in God’s name—?”
    “Really, tell you later. We have a bigger problem.”
    “Two of them,” Melanie said as she and Emily joined us. “We went with the medical team to check and make sure Cooper and Al Dejahl were really dead. They are, but the one who looked like Al Dejahl only had a single heart.”
    “How can you tell when he’s dead?”
    Emily