Alien vs. Alien

a fan of anyone who tried to kill me, in part because those people also tried to kill the boys at the same time.
    I contemplated allowing them to open the door with an impressive show of force. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea that such a cheerful greeting probably wasn’t included in the Diplomat’s Handbook.
    Jamie gurgled. She hadn’t seemed like she was in pain for the past couple of days, I felt outnumbered and unprepared, and I missed my husband more than I would have thought possible. I opened my phone again and dialed.
    “Hey, baby, I was just thinking about you. How’re my girls doing?” Jeff had to ask because he had to have such strong blocks up in his mind to protect him from our emotions. I really hoped it was time to take those blocks down.
    “I think Jamie’s fine. I’m stressed out of my mind. Jeff, are you in the middle of anything you can’t get away from?”
    “We’re just doing some Homeland Security paperwork with Reynolds.”
    “Great. Can you all get down here, right away? We’re about to have an impromptu visit from Senator Armstrong, and I don’t trust his motives at all.”
    “Neither do I. We’ll be there right away. You want Reynolds along?”
    “Please. I have no idea who else is coming, but Malcolm said he saw more than one person when he called to warn me.”
    Jeff grunted. “He’s not in the house is he?”
    “Spend needless jealousy on Malcolm when you’re here, okay?” I lowered my voice. “I miss you. Use the fast hyperspeed.”
    “Love you, baby. Be right there.”
    We hung up, I kissed Jamie’s head and handed her to Amy, then headed after the boys. Martini Manor was so huge it was easy to catch u Fontustp to them before they reached the main entryway. And just in time—I got to them as the front doorbell rang.
    “Boys, let’s remember that while we don’t like the senator, we aren’t allowed to act like we’re Al Pacino in
Scarface
.”
    Both boys shot me betrayed looks. Their expressions shared that, yet again, this kind of “fun” was not something they thought they’d signed up for when joining the exciting ranks of C.I.A. operatives.
    But they soldiered on. Kyle got the door, Len flanking him, just in case Armstrong actually had a carload of mercenaries along for the ride. Of course, I wouldn’t have put it past him, or any of the rest of the Cabal of Evil.
    Amazingly enough, Armstrong was in the doorway, no gun or grenade in sight. He was carrying an expensive-looking attaché and, as always, had the Senior Senator from Wherever look going strong. Even though we were now in the Diplomatic Corps, I still didn’t pay a lot of attention to politics, but the thought occurred that Armstrong probably had his eye on the White House.
    This unsettling notion got pushed aside as Armstrong strode in. Armstrong wasn’t the issue—his companions were.
    Guy Gadoire followed Armstrong across the threshold, beaming. My mouth fell open. “My darling Missus Martini. You look radiant as always.” He raced over to me as I slammed my jaw shut.
    Gadoire was a lobbyist for the tobacco industry. He spoke in a fake French accent that made him sound like a less appealing Pepé Le Pew. He was also bisexual and had, along with his partner, Vance Beaumont, suggested I share a “bed of love” with them only a few weeks prior. Despite all this, somehow, he was not on my list of Potential Adultery Options.
    “Guy, what are you doing here?”
    “You are surprised to see me, my dove?” He grabbed the hand I hadn’t offered and kissed it. Based on his hand kissing alone, I never wanted this man’s lips near mine. Gadoire was the only man I’d ever met who could make kissing your hand seem completely charmless and unappealing.
    The boys stared at him. They’d heard about him, of course, but this was their first real introduction to Monsieur Love, as I called him in private.
    “Ahhh . . .” Gadoire tended to make me speechless, though not for the reasons he assumed.
    I heard footsteps behind me, and Gadoire’s eyes lit up. I looked over my shoulder to see Amy arriving. She didn’t have Jamie with her. I counted that in the win column.
    Gadoire let go of me and turned the “charm” on Amy. “And who is this lovely vision with you?”
    “I’m Amy Gaultier. Ah, White. Amy Gaultier-White.” Amy and Christopher had gotten married right before Jamie’s teeth arrived, and she still wasn’t used to being married, partially because she’d spent more