Alien vs. Alien

than a few bird treats.
    “So, Malcolm, what’s our plan?”
    “I’m thinking we go duck hunting.”
    The other men stared at him. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure I knew what he meant. “You want to use Armstrong’s limo as a decoy.”
    “That’s actually a good idea,” Tito said approvingly.
    “How does that prevent Evan from telling our enemies, if he’s in fact a spy of some kind?” Armstrong asked.
    “Oh, I don’t care if he’s a spy,” Buchanan said. “Because we’re going to give him an assignment. Senator, make sure you sell it in a way he’ll believe.”
    “Sell what? I don’t know your plan.”
    “Malcolm wants you to sell whatever he’s going to say as truth in advertising.”
    “Actually,” Buchanan said with a grin, “I want you to tell him, Missus Chief.”
    “Figures. So what am I telling him to do? Pretend he has all of us in the limo as a decoy and drive to the senator’s offices so the bad guys think we’re going there when we are, in fact, going to Andrews Air Force Base to warn of imminent alien attack?”
    “See? I knew you’d figure it all out, Missus Chief.”
    “That could work,” Armstrong said slowly. “Either he’ll lead another tail off and away, or he’ll tell our enemies that we’reheading to Andrews. Either way, more of our enemies are somewhere other than around us and potentially more confused.” Tito and White both nodded their agreement.
    “Really? If I’d come up with this without Malcolm leading the way, right now, at this very moment, you’d all be telling me I was crazy and that it’d never work.”
    “Oh, we didn’t say it wasn’t crazy,” Tito said.
    “We also didn’t say it would work, merely that it could,” White added. “You know, Missus Martini—like most of our plans.”
    “And it really does sound like a plan of yours, Kitty,” Tito added.
    “Because it
is
a plan of mine. I just laid it out, Malcolm didn’t.”
    Buchanan clapped me on the shoulder. “Great plan, there, Missus Chief. Let’s see how it works.”
    I heaved a sigh as we headed for Armstrong’s limo. “Malcolm, I’m seriously considering the benefits of hating you right now.”
    “Good. That’ll make your husband happy.”

    Yi

CHAPTER 50

    I COULDN’T TELL IF ARMSTRONG’S DRIVER was on his side or an evil bad guy, but Evan seemed clear on his duties and drove off as requested.
    “How do we tell if he’s doing what we want or not?”
    “We don’t care,” Buchanan replied. “We need to focus on the important things, like what’s really going on and where your husband and Reynolds are.”
    Buchanan went to one of our regular limos. We had several—enough to evacuate the entire Embassy via car if necessary. Buchanan chose one without a car seat in it; he got behind the wheel, Tito took shotgun, and the rest of us climbed into the back.
    “Kyle always gets the door.”
    “I’m a doctor,” Tito shared. “If you’re hurt, I’ll get the door for you. Otherwise, I thought you were an emancipated woman.”
    “I am. I’m also saying that shotgun gets the doors. It’s in the A-C Limo Handbook. I mean, dude, Christopher got the doors when I first met these guys when he had shotgun, and he was the Head of Imageering at the time. You’re saying you’re too good to get the door?”
    “No. I’m saying that Christopher was clearly trying to impress you. I’m not.”
    “He has a point,” White mentioned.
    I snorted. “I remember my first introductions to your son. His version of ‘impress’ and mine differ.”
    “Hence why you’re happily married to my nephew.”
    “Speaking of whom.” I checked my phone. Nothing. From Jeff or Chuckie. This boded. I couldn’t believe both of them would ignore my “I’m worried, where are you?” texts, at least not willingly.
    “Why aren’t we moving?” Armstrong asked.
    “We’re waiting,” Buchanan replied. “To give whoever’s following your driver time to get out of range. Or to let him call and advise the bad guys that we’re actually heading to Andrews.”
    “Should we have the laser shield on?”
    “You’re jumpy.” Buchanan turned around and gave me a searching look. His expression softened. “We’ll find them. I promise.” He turned back and turned on the stereo. “Watching the Detectives” by Elvis Costello came on.
    While we waited and Elvis crooned in his hipster way, I sent texts to Naomi and Abigail. They answered pretty quickly. “Per Mimi and Abby,