Chuckie sighed. "I can't argue with the idea. In part because you haven't actually taken or passed the HSAC test."

"Seriously? You're actually going to insist we go through all that again?"

"The instructor actually had everyone's tests in his hands," Gower said. "He'd clutched them in panic, and they made it out of the building with him. I asked, as Pontifex, for them to be processed immediately. So, ah, everyone other than you, Kitty, is approved."

I let this one sit on the air for a moment. "So, what you're saying, Paul and Chuckie, is that everyone other than me can discuss whatever the hell is going on that Jeff, Christopher, and Chuckie spent time stressing was a bigger deal than my faked photos. But I can't. Is that right?"

"Right." Gower didn't say this with a lot of enthusiasm I was fairly sure I saw Tim and Reader wincing. Checked the expressions of the men in the room with me. Check, they all looked ready for me to get seriously mad.

"Correct," Chuckie said. He looked at Jeff. "Let her go to the police and handle this with Mister Joel Oliver, who also hasn't taken the HSAC test. It'll keep him out of our hair, keep Kitty occupied, and possibly get that problem fixed before we have to worry about the bigger issue."

"She shouldn't be doing that," Jeff argued. "It's not a good idea for an Ambassador to head to police headquarters to show off naked pictures of herself. And I don't want those getting out."

"Guys, I'm in the room. Still. I clearly have to mention. And, the pictures are already out, Jeff. Since I can't do anything else until I'm all alone in another special room with another android trying to kill me while I take a ridiculous test that makes no sense, let me handle this. Chuckie's right. It'll distract me."

Jeff gave me a look that said he knew I was up to something and, even though he had no idea what it was, he didn't approve. "I don't like it."

"I don't like your new avian mistress, but I'm dealing." I looked to Chuckie. "That plan sit okay with you, Secret Agent Man?"

"Yeah. Take Len and Kyle." He looked at Buchanan. "You'll go back to being her shadow?"

"Yeah. I don't care about the other issue, whatever it is."

I got the distinct impression Buchanan was lying like a wet rug, but I was also fairly sure the others weren't picking this up. Jeff might have been, but if so, he didn't say anything.

"I'll accompany Missus Martini as well," White said. "I'm sure I'll be more helpful there than here."

White was lying, too. Well, it was always nice to have backup.

"So I won't be alone." I went over to Jeff and gave him a quick kiss. Bellie cawed and squawked indignantly. "I love you. Do something about that bird before I get back, because she's dancing on my last nerve. I'm going to take Jamie to Denise, so Pierre's free. I'll check in as needed."

Jeff stood up and hugged me. "Be good, baby, and be careful. Call if you need anything or think you're being followed by anyone other than Buchanan."

I hugged him back and went to the door. I contemplated suggesting that, barring Bellie having taken and passed the HSAC, they refrain from talking about whatever was going on in front of her.

Then I reconsidered. Bellie was a bigmouth. I'd find out what was really up one way or another, even if it meant giving my feathered nemesis bird treats.

CHAPTER 19.

WE WERE NEAR THE FRONT DOOR when the doorbell rang. I could have waited for Pierre to race over to get it, but I was right there, so I opened the door.

A tall, blond-haired man who looked to be somewhere in his mid-to-late thirties stood there. He was dressed like every other go-getter in D.C. seemed to be-expensive, tailored navy suit, nice wingtips, official political haircut that was just this side of a Marine high and tight. He also radiated a look I'd gotten used to from spending over half my life around Chuckie-intelligence.

He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place him at all. "Can I help you?"

He nodded. "I'm looking for Charles Reynolds."

"And you're looking for him at the American Centaurion Embassy why?"

He smiled. "I'm sorry. I'm Cliff Goodman, the Head of Special Immigration Services for Homeland Security. Chuck told me he was here."

"Oh! Sorry, come on in, Mister Goodman." Per Chuckie, I'd met him already. I was thankful he didn't bring it up, since he still wasn't looking anything more than vaguely familiar.

"Thanks. And please, call me Cliff. You must be Kitty. Chuck's told me a lot about you." He was going for the polite pretend, I assumed because it was clear I'd had no idea who he was.

"Has he?"

"Yeah. He's very proud of you. I can't blame him. You've really moved fast in your career."

"Thanks again." I had no idea which career or careers Cliff was referring to, and figured Chuckie would appreciate my not sharing in case Cliff wasn't in the know about everything.

Buchanan, who'd been nearby and witnessed all this, went down the hall, presumably to get Chuckie. White extended his hand. "Richard White. Nice to meet you, sir."

Cliff smiled again as he shook White's hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Former Pontifex White." Well he knew enough to know who White was. Whether this was good, bad, or indifferent, I had no guess. "I'd hoped to meet you at the President's Ball, but that did get a little out of hand."

"You win the Understatement of the Year Award." I decided we should stop faking it. "I'm sorry, I know we met at the Ball, but most of it's a blur. I appreciate you pretending I wasn't just incredibly rude."

Cliff laughed. "I know how many people Ambassadors tend to meet in any given month. Considering what had gone on, and what you helped avert, I'm amazed you can remember that the President was there, let alone anyone else. This is a much better introduction, for both of us."

So, Cliff was in a high level of "know." Not a surprise, based on his position. But I'd been trained to not give away everything, even though I might think the person I was talking to knew everything already. Mom and Chuckie both had been big on that mindset, and Dad had supported it, too.

Buchanan returned with Chuckie in tow. "Cliff, thanks for coming." They shook hands without the usual male posturing coming from Cliff that I normally saw around Chuckie, which was refreshing. At least there was one guy in power out there who viewed Chuckie as a person to be valued as opposed to killed or discredited.

Buchanan stayed back and didn't seem eager to be introduced. I was going to do the introductions anyway, but Cliff spoke before I could. "So, Chuck, can I get a debrief on what really happened at NASA Base?"

Chuckie looked a little uncomfortable. I took the logic leap. "Can you do that in front of me?"

Cliff chuckled. "You were a part of it, so yes. I understand there was a problem with your HSAC test, though."

"Yeah." I looked at Chuckie and shot him the "what do I say" look.

He nodded. "You can give Cliff the full details, Kitty. Including all the details about your attacker."

"Oh, what fun. Shall we get out of the hallway to do this? I mean, we're not exactly lacking in available rooms."

"Oh?" Cliff asked. "I'd heard your Embassy was pretty much filled to capacity."

"Not really. We try to avoid having the fire marshals called in."

Cliff laughed. "Good point. I don't want to take up a lot of your time-I was just nearby and figured this was a good way to get the unofficial answers before I'm asked for the official ones."

"True enough," Chuckie said. "Kitchen?"

"Sure, I never say no to the comfortable room." Cliff looked around. "Though I'd bet every room here would be comfortable."

"It is." I didn't add that it was plush and a showcase-Cliff looked smart enough to figure that out on his own. Chuckie led him into the kitchen, with White trailing them. Buchanan stayed in the hall. He looked like he was pondering something. "Coming?"

Buchanan shook his head. "No. But remember, we have things we want to do. Things that aren't necessarily going to make some people happy."

I figured he didn't want me to share with Cliff that we were planning to head out to grab an influential senator and the top paparazzo to see if they could help us solve the mystery of dirty pictures featuring me and Chuckie. I was certain Chuckie wouldn't want me to mention said pictures, either. I nodded. "Gotcha."

Buchanan gave me a half-smile. "Don't be long."

I joined the others in the kitchen. Pierre, with Jamie on his hip, already had everyone settled at the small table for four with a beverage each and a plate of fresh veggies and dip, and Chuckie was giving Cliff the high-level debrief, with White adding in as needed.

Jamie gave her "Mommy's Here!" squeal, and I took her from Pierre, got a Coke, and sat in the open chair, opposite Cliff. A part of me wondered why Jeff, Christopher, or any of the others weren't joining us, but I figured Chuckie had wanted to keep this meeting as small, and as fast, as possible.

Chuckie summed things up, and I had nothing to add-he'd actually given my statement about Sandra the Android and what had happened pretty much verbatim but without my, as Christopher called them, Kittyisms added in.

Cliff sighed. "Another mystery mess. I'd like to find the Evil Geniuses Headquarters and catch them all at their next monthly meeting."

I burst into laughter. "I thought I was the only one who called them that."

Cliff grinned. "Nope. I wouldn't say that to too many people, of course, but Chuck's special, just like the rest of you here."

"Thanks, we try."

"And you succeed. But that reminds me-why has Senator Armstrong been so desperate to have a meeting with you?"

I didn't remember Chuckie mentioning Armstrong at all in his debrief. I controlled myself from looking at Chuckie, or White. I had the feeling this was a test question. My mind worked fast-I had a variety of ways to answer this, but Cliff wasn't my mother, ergo, Cliff wasn't likely able to tell when I was lying, especially if I told the truth that was still, in that sense, a lie.

"Oh, he wants us to use our influence for some of his projects. It's the usual political cr-ah, stuff."

Cliff grinned again. "You can say crap in front of me. It's a nicer word than I'm used to hearing, believe me." He looked at Jamie. "Whoops."

I laughed. "It's okay, and thanks. Anyway, I think the senator feels I'm the weak link, so he's trying to get me on his side so I'll influence my husband."

"And probably Chuck, too. Everyone knows you two are tight."

"I suppose. It's hard to say with politicians."

Cliff nodded. "True enough." He smiled at Jamie. "Beautiful baby."

She gurgled, then turned her face into my chest. "Aww, she's gotten shy. But thank you, we think we'll keep her."

He grinned. "Well, I'll bet there'd be a lot of takers if you wanted to give her up."

"Uncle Pierre is first in line," he said as he scooped Jamie out of my arms. She cooed and snuggled next to him as he did the Uncle Pierre version of the Baby Dance.

I figured we should get the conversation off of Jamie, in part because I knew Jeff and the others were probably waiting for Chuckie to rejoin them. "What did you do before you became the Head of Special Immigration Services? You seem really young for the job, so I figure it was impressive."

"It was," Chuckie said. "He was the second in command of Andrews Air Force Base."

Cliff shrugged. "I joined the Air Force right out of high school, worked hard and worked my way up. It's not that impressive, really."

"Yeah, I hear that line from Chuckie all the time, too, and I've never bought it from him, either. Are you still in the Air Force?"

"Nope. I retired to take the Special Immigration Services position. Neither the President nor the Head of Homeland Security asked me to, by the way, but I didn't want to appear biased toward any one branch of the military, and I didn't want the temptation to go back hanging over me."

"Why would that be a temptation?"

Cliff and Chuckie both snorted. "The pressure of our kinds of jobs make going back to the comfortable familiarity of the military appealing, believe me," Cliff said.

"Dude, you're not just whistling Dixie. So they passed over the head man at Andrews and gave the position to you?" Cliff nodded. "Does that mean said head man is thrilled for you or wants your job?"

"I'm honestly not sure."

"The head man doesn't like you," Chuckie said. "Or me, for that matter."

"I think he doesn't like you because you're friends with me," Cliff replied. "He's angling for a different promotion, anyway. He's career military, so Secretary of Defense is his goal."

"What's his name?"

"Colonel Marvin Hamlin," Cliff said. "He may not like us, but he's still a good man."

Chuckie shook his head. "You say that about everyone."

Cliff shrugged. "I'm the trusting one, you're the suspicious one. We make a good team." He looked at his watch and stood up. "I'd better get going."

"Tell whatever committees that I take full responsibility for what happened at NASA Base," Chuckie said, as he stood, too.

"Why? None of it was your fault."

Cliff nodded. "Kitty's right. Don't be too hard on yourself, Chuck. Things happen, and we can't foresee or stop everything. I wish we could, but we can't. You're doing not only the best you can, but you're doing a better job than anyone else in the position has or would."

Chuckie managed a grin. "Always nice to have a cheering section."

"Well, I know you have one in Kitty. And you should know you have one in me." Cliff smiled at me. "Take care of our man here, and don't let him beat himself up."

"Will do."

We all shook hands and walked Cliff to the door. We said our good-byes and he walked off down the block into Sheridan Circle.

"He doesn't have a driver?" White asked, as we saw Cliff hail a taxi and get in.

"No, he's big on public transportation." Chuckie shook his head. "I'd prefer it if he had a driver. He leaves himself too open."

"You know, he mentioned that Colonel Hamlin is a good man. Think that the Colonel could be the good man Bellie was referring to?"

Chuckie shrugged. "Could be. Cliff's last name is Goodman, so it could be him, too, I suppose."

"Only you don't think he's a bad guy."