Alien Tango

you stay dense and unaware for a while more and put me to useful work.”
    “Nice.” Accurate, of course. “But, the C.I.A., not the P.T.C.U.?”
    “The C.I.A. wanted me more, for a variety of reasons, my being independently wealthy at a young age and my brainpower being the two biggest ones. Being, as you always put it, the conspiracy king, helped, too. I went for it not only to help my country but because it seemed like a good way to impress girls.”
    “They liked that you were into the conspiracy theories?”
    He grinned. “They were worried. Because I was always right.”
    “Not a surprise, really.”
    “Yeah. They figured I had the means, the brains, and the interest to actually blow a lot of things wide open. Easier to recruit me than to kill me, thankfully. I think your mother had a lot to do with it, too. As I said, she wanted someone there she knew she could trust.”
    “Figures.” No one told me anything until they absolutely had to, did they?
    “I didn’t want to bring you into this world, but once you were in it . . . ” He looked sad, and I ran through all the points in our relationship when, if I’d just noticed, things would have taken at least a slightly different course. There were a lot of them.
    “Yeah.” I wondered what, ultimately, would have been different if I’d had the brains to comprehend that my best friend was not only in love with me but that I’d been in love with him, too. A lot, probably. Or maybe nothing. One thing was sure—we were never going to know. “Our timing sucks.”
    “Yeah. You still my friend? Or have I lost that?” He didn’t sound suave all of a sudden. He sounded like the guy I’d spotted reading X-Men Unlimited the first day of high school. The one who’d been shocked when I plopped down next to him to discuss the merits of Wolverine over Cyclops. The friend who’d always been there for me when I needed him—just like tonight.
    I hugged him. “You’ll always be my friend, Chuckie.”
    He held me tightly. “Good. I meant it, I’m coming to your wedding.”
    “Good.”
    “Your intended doesn’t think so.”
    I looked up at him. “It’ll keep him on his toes.”
    Chuckie bent and kissed my forehead. He kept his lips against my skin. “If he ever again hurts you, breaks your heart, does anything that makes you feel the way you did earlier today, you come to me.” He kissed me again, then pulled away. “I love you.”
    Then he turned around and walked back to the sleek, black helicopter. He got in and it took off. I watched until it was swallowed by the moonless night.

CHAPTER 72
    THE MEMORIES WERE CHANGED AND the videos altered. Leventhal Reid’s Wild Ride was heading off to the news media as the top story of the night, made as lurid as requested, since he was shown to be after a bevy of terrified college co-eds. The military took care of cleanup, Kevin and my parents were taking care of anything else, including doing something nice for Gloria and her coworkers, and Centaurion personnel were encouraged to disappear.
    My car and my stuff were at the Princess, so I insisted on going there. My car had a note on it from Chuckie saying the C.I.A. had defused and removed the variety of booby traps Reid’s people had put on it, but Christopher had a team give it the once-over anyway. While we were waiting, an A-C operative showed up with a rolling bag he handed to Martini.
    “What’s that?”
    Martini shrugged. “Hotel’s paid for through the weekend.”
    “Let’s get you registered, then. I no longer have a key.” Or shoes, a driver’s license, cell phone, or cash. Thank God I’d left my iPod in the room.
    Reader handed me my handbag and shoes. “You might want these, girlfriend.”
    “Wow, how’d you get them?”
    He grinned. “Uh, I walked over to the stolen Mazda, extracted your stuff, and asked the Marines to be sure to get the car back in one piece. It was tough, hanging out with all the buff guys in uniform, but you know, anything for you and the cause.”
    “You’re a prince, James.”
    Martini grunted and took my hand. “Let’s go.”
    “We look like crap. Since we can get in after all, let’s just go to the room.”
    “Nah. I want a key.” He still looked like Bruce Banner right before or after the Hulk change, and I looked like Elvira after a week-long bender. This wasn’t really a great idea in my book, but he was determined.
    We went to the desk, and either the folks at the Princess saw this kind of