Alien vs. Alien

we got the full details.”
    “Lucky me. Why didn’t you send my father here along with Paul?”
    “I need my partner. It’s action time. Besides, he and I were busy.”
    “I heard. Why do you want my father doing the action stuff and not me?”
    “Because I want you safe, a Commander everyone will listen to guarding everyone the bad guys want to kidnap, my baby’s A-C godfather watching over her, and to keep you where I can reach you without worry.”
    “But you’re okay with my father not being safe?”
    I coughed. “Dude, he’s the best field agent we have.”
    “According to you.”
    “Yeah. And also according to his track record.”
    “I understand you also commandeered the Barones right out from under James.”
    “Head of Recruitment now, remember?”
    “You never let me forget.”
    “Jeff and Chuckie still missing and likely in life-threatening danger. Space invaders coming. Superbeings and supersoldiers popping up all over the place. You handle internal affairs, I’ll handle external.”
    “Wow, the ambassador-speak is starting to rub off on you. In another decade we might be able to take you out in public.”
    “If Bruno weren’t here, you’d be sorry you said that.”
    “I’m sorry already. Harold just pooped on my shoe.”
    “I love my Peregrines.”

    Yi

CHAPTER 62

    H UNG UP AND TURNED BACK to Franklin. “Ready for that debrief now.”
    Franklin’s eyes were narrowed. “Why did you call to verify that your Pontifex was where I said he’d been sent?”
    “Because I’m getting used to people I care about disappearing without a trace. It wasn’t a reflection on you, Colonel.”
    “No offense taken.” Franklin still looked worried.
    “What is it?”
    “We have too many disappearances, too close together, and all of those missing vanished without a trace. Humor me, and let’s be certain the rest of your people are where we believe them to be.”
    “Okay, Paul’s where he’s supposed to be, but I’ll verify the others are okay, too. Just give me a moment.” Decided not to call, so sent texts to Reader, Tim, and all the flyboys.
    Franklin grimaced. “The Pontifex went to the Dome via a floater gate, per Commander Reader. But the two Commanders and their teams went to their locations using this gate. And, with my predecessor gone under extremely mysterious circumstances . . .”
    “Right, it’s a little worrying.” None of them answered immediately. “We need to give them a little time to answer, since they all went to areas with active situations.”
    Franklin nodded and headed for the Executive Washroom. “Come with me for a moment, please.” I could wait for texts and walk at the same time, so White and I followed him as requested. There were five stalls in here. Franklin went to the one farthest from the door. “Can you verify that this gate is in working order?”
    “I can’t. How do you even know there’s a gate here?” I could see it because I was enhanced—airport metal detector standing around a toilet, never a thrill—but Franklin was a regular human, insofar as I knew.
    Franklin shook his head and pointed to a tiny red disk on the back wall, right by the floor, behind the toilet. “That’s the identifier for a gate anywhere in the world. I can’t see that a gate is here, but I can see the disk.”
    “It looks fine to me, but I honestly have no way of truly knowing,” White said.
    “I learn something new every, single day.” Why was I, truly, the last to know anything and everything? Chuckie undoubtedly knew about this. Hell, Amy probably knew about it. For all I knew, everyone other than me knew. The horrible truth was obvious—I was going to have to break down and look at those briefing books. One day.
    But not right now. Right now, we had a situation, and I hadn’t heard back from any of the guys.
    Just before worry could take over, I got a reply from Reader. “James is fine, situation in France is not. It’s not superbeings they’re fighting but supersoldiers, and rural France meant just outside of Paris.”
    Another text came in, then another. “Tim and Jerry are also fine, and confirmed that the rest of the flyboys are okay, too. They’re getting into the air, though, because it’s worse in Paraguay than in Paris right now. They’re dealing with superbeings in Paraguay but more than James has in France.”
    “Convenient,” White said dryly.
    “Truly. Between the Festival and this, all of our Field teams are tied