Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(46)

"Yeah, but we have no idea whether he has clones running around or not. We've had a Zoran sighting in Dublin—don't forget that. Plus, the American people still think Phillips is alive. Madam President never announced his death to the public."

"You had to scare me worse than I was already," he grumped.

"We'll get through this," I patted his shoulder. "At least I hope we will."

"Right."

"You think this outfit is all right?" I asked.

"You look perky," he grinned.

"Great. Perky. Not one of my usual attributes."

"No, it fits her character. She's the youngest of three girls. I looked through a lot of photographs of her, and that's exactly how she is."

"I hate doing bubbly," I sighed. "I'm the sarcastic, older sister type."

"I disagree," he said. "And, I haven't had my reading fix in a long time," he complained.

"Honey, I don't know when or if I'll ever get back to writing again."

"Dang."

"Did you say dang? I haven't heard that in a possum's age."

"Stop with the hillbilly," he grinned.

"You started it."

"Okay, you're right. Here we are," he drove up to the employee entrance. "Have your badge ready—that's Secret Service there at the door, waiting to check everybody."

"Will do, boss," I quipped.

"I get you all to myself for a talk, and it had to be on the day the President died," he said as I opened the door.

"Honey, we'll get to the bottom of this," I promised.

"I sure hope so. I'll be here to pick you up later; just let me know when."

I nodded, straightened my perky outfit, shut the car door and walked toward the frowning Secret Service agent at the employee entrance.

*

That morning, I saw twenty faces in detail before lunchtime. None of them had anything to do with Madam President's death.

"Laura, we have a lunch appointment with the President," the Chief of Staff, Kyle Lakin, informed me when the line of interviewees dissipated.

I found myself scrambling to get used to the name and title assigned to me.

"Yes, sir," I nodded and rose to follow him to the Oval Office.

"Anything?" the former Vice President asked when Kyle and I stood before his desk.

"No sir. Nothing yet," I reported.

"Damn." He cursed and stood to pace behind the President's desk. "I trust you'd let someone know if I or anyone you come across has been compromised?" He turned back to ask.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Make sure it stays that way."

"Sir, I'd like to meet everyone assigned to guard you, and everyone you're scheduled to have contact with in the days to come," I said.

"You're that good?" The Chief of Staff asked.

"She's that good," President Jonathan Granville stated. "She's the reason the PM of Great Britain and I survived the attempt on our lives in London."

"Thank you, sir. One more thing, if I may," I said.

"Of course," he inclined his head and sat down again.

"I'd like to review your choices for Vice President. Just as a precaution," I said.

"I think I'll allow that," he agreed.

*

"How was your day?" James asked when he picked me up at eight that evening.

"Long. I need sunlight," I said. Auggie, Rafe, Matt and Val were in meetings with the President all afternoon, but I didn't see them. I only heard from Val in mindspeech. He probably needed sunlight, too.

"I'm taking you to the ugly building in Arlington," James said. "Colonel Hunter says President Granville wants you at the White House every day until further notice. The real Laura Quimby's vacation has been extended in Scotland."

"She's on board with all this?"

"I believe Matt told her it's a matter of National Security. She's been to the American Embassy there, where a new passport with an alias has been provided for her, and all her vacation expenses have been comped. All she has to do is keep quiet that she's really someone else."

"Poor girl," I sighed. "Can't even use her real name because a Larentii borrowed it. And, on top of everything else, Mr. Snaky Pants Norian Keef will be here in two days."

"Snaky Pants?"

"He keeps his alter ego hidden, but he's a lion snake shapeshifter. He's sort of an *, too, but don't tell him I said that. I'll tell him myself."

"You think I'll end up meeting this guy?" James sounded worried as he turned a corner.

"Nothing would surprise me at this point. What we have to do is get to him before he can cause trouble and show him exactly what his shiny agents did while they were here. All of which resulted in their deaths."

"Do Larentii do this sort of thing all the time?"

"No, honey. Larentii have a four-word standard they all live by. Stay. Out. Of. It. They don't interfere as a rule unless they are threatened in some way, or their mate is threatened. Somehow, I've been given special permission to be here, and Val was allowed to come with me."