"Chuckie would never, Jeff, you know that."

"I do, but I also know that he's crushingly, heartbreakingly lonely. And that loneliness only abates a little when he's with us, and by us I mean our extended family and those in the Embassy." Jeff shook his head. "He wasn't like this before he fell in love with Naomi, and certainly not while they were together. But since she died . . ." He sighed again. "It's been worse since we went to Beta Eight. He's still not recovered from that."

"He's doing better."

"The past week or so? Yeah. But he's also just hanging on in some ways. And I have no idea what either one of us can do for him."

"Me either."

This was the thing that pushed me over the edge of tired to exhausted, though. Jeff picked it up, of course, and he picked me up. We were at our door, so that was convenient. He carried me inside, and I was too tired to make a wedding night joke. Kicked my slippers off before he laid me onto the bed, robe still on.

He lay down next to me, his robe still on, too. He wrapped his arm around me, and I snuggled up against him and let his double heartbeats lull me right to sleep.

We actually got a few hours of good sleep before Raj drew the short straw and had to come in and wake us up.

We dragged out of bed and into the shower. Despite our desires we decided to wait to test the shower out until we were confident half of the White House Staff wasn't standing outside in the hall.

Happily, the Elves had hung a rather lovely velour tracksuit up on my side of the closet. It was iced blue, because apparently now at least seventy-five percent of what I had to wear had to be in "my color." But it wasn't a business suit, and I put it on with great joy. Plus I could wear my blue Lifehouse t-shirt and Converse with this, so win all the way around.

Jeff, naturally, was in the Armani Fatigues-black Armani suit and tie, crisp white shirt. There were jeans hanging on his side of the closet, but he ignored them as if they were an affront to humanity instead of something made for comfort that also really showed his amazing butt off well. But, I was too tired to argue, so saved that fight for another day.

Nadine had the kids fed, dressed, and entertained, so that was definitely one for the win column. Chuckie joined us along with Raj, Vance, and Reader, who looked as tired as the rest of us, in the Family Dining Room. Frankly, only the kids looked well rested, but it was more important for them to get a good night's sleep, so I consoled myself with that.

Breakfast for the adults was being whipped up, so after the kids got hugs, kisses, and snuggles from all of us, Nadine and Lizzie took them down to the East Sitting Room which was, as far as I was concerned, about to become the First Family Playroom. Figured I'd ask the Elves for that later, though.

Our food arrived as the kids left. The people serving us were all nice, but they were staff, not our people. So we waited to talk about anything of importance until they were gone, meaning until we were done eating. Which was okay because the food was great and, from the way we were eating, we were all starving.

"I miss the Elves," I said as the last person left, carrying the last of our dirty dishes into the kitchen. I was still a little hungry. "I think we need to adjourn to our living room."

We did, and Jeff and I filled everyone in on what had transpired earlier in the morning. There was, when we got right down to it, very little to tell.

"Well," Reader said when we were done, "we can investigate, but I think what Chuck put in place already is the best option. We'll have all the goggles needed today."

"We need to come up with the spin for the press," Raj said.

"Security sunglasses." Everyone looked at me. "What? That sounds cool enough and it's technically true."

"I sometimes forget you were in marketing," Chuckie said with a small smile. "I think that will work well enough."

Talk turned to what else we did and didn't know. Sadly, the consensus was that we really didn't know a lot. "The bottom line is, as Angela said last night, we need to get those peace talks back on as soon as possible." Reader grimaced. "We've had agents all over the Camp David area. They found a little evidence that the Kitty-Bot was there, but it was slight. Basically, she wasn't doing much while she was waiting."

"Robots usually don't. I mean, they're made to sit there until they're needed or activated. Androids, too, since I still vividly remember Sandra the Android and she was definitely a sleeper." And, as an android, had possessed quite the unpleasant personality. Wondered if that was how we could tell if someone was an android-because they were high on the nasty person scale. Chose not to mention this theory at this time, in part because I didn't want to be told I was crazy this early in the day.

"I sincerely think we're going to find that the android and robot programs are different," Chuckie said. "But that's down the road, even if that road is only a couple of days away."

"I totally agree with that theory."

"That's nice, but we need things we can focus on right now," Jeff said.

"Really?" Vance asked. "That's what you're waiting on, focus? Why? The answer is obvious."

CHAPTER 43.

"NOT TO ANYONE HERE," Jeff said dryly. "So enlighten us as to what we're supposed to focus on."

"Your jobs," Vance said flatly. "Not the jobs you want to do, but the actual jobs you actually have now. What everyone needs to do is get comfortable with their official assignments. Jeff, Congress will be approving your appointees tomorrow, or at least beginning the process, which will be sped up, under the circumstances. But all those people are brand new to their positions, just like you are. As much as stopping the bad guys is important, I suggest that we spend the next few days actually focused on doing the mundane parts of our jobs. Like learning what they are."

No one could really argue with this level of logic, so we didn't. We chatted some more, but the bottom line was that Vance was right, and we all dispersed to do what we could with what we currently had. Even though Chuckie probably had the most work to do, since he had to clean out the CIA, Jeff and Raj both wanted him at the White House, so they went to get him a temporary office.

I currently had Vance, so I was in far better shape than I probably had any right to be. "I've contacted Nancy Maurer as requested," he said when we were alone.

"Super. I need a snack." Got up, grabbed my purse because I learned from my mistakes, and headed back to the dining room. Well, the kitchen, actually. Because there was a fridge and I was all about testing to see if Algar had provided Elf Service here.

Vance followed me. "I'd mention that you're going to gain weight but I guess you're lucky that way."

"It's from running around after bad guys." And probably my enhancement, but that wasn't important right now. Dumped my purse on the table and headed for my goal. "So, what did Nancy say?"

"She's going to be your Social Secretary. It's a job she's well suited for, and she's excited to do it. And we already had security on the Maurers, at least on Nancy and Cameron, so we got those folks their goggles and that's all set."

"Awesome. A Coca-Cola, please and thank you." Opened the fridge with all the digits crossed. There was a frosty Coke in an ice-cold bottle. The good stuff up from Mexico. "You are the best," I whispered as I grabbed my Coke. "So," I said as I closed the door and grabbed some handy donuts on the counter, "um, what should I be doing?"

"Besides scarfing junk food?" He shrugged. "Work on your theories, because I know you'll be doing that anyway. But I'm going to pull your core team in, and we're going to go over the thing you're most concerned about-image and how we control yours."

"Let's do it, because I'm basically terrified of what the press is going to do when they get a load of me. Want a soda?"

"Sure, I'll take a Coke, too."

Turned to the fridge. "Another Coke, please and thank you." Opened the door, took the Coke, gave it to Vance. "Hope still lives."

Reader popped his head in. "Figured I'd find you here, girlfriend."

"I'd be offended but I'm too thrilled that the Elves took the refrigerator contract for the White House to complain. What's up?"

"Want to go over your image issues."

"We're handling that," Vance said.

Reader eyed him. "Are you? Well, that's nice. You'll be handling them with me involved."

"Are we?" Vance asked in that way that indicated a catfight of epic proportions was about to start.

Remembered that Reader had been jealous of my budding relationship with Vance during Operation Sherlock, just like I'd been jealous that he and Tim had private jokes with people I hadn't met. Thought we'd gotten past that, but it had been a trying couple of weeks for everyone.

Cleared my throat and, happily, they both looked at me. "Dudes, while I'm all kinds of flattered that you're both sort of ready to fight over me, let's all take deep breaths and remember that I love you both and in different ways. And I need you both, also in different ways."

They didn't look convinced. Forged on. "James, Vance is covering being Pierre for me, a desperate need I know you can relate to, since you're the reason we have Pierre with us in the first place. Vance, James is a lot like you, only he kicks butt better than almost anyone and has never met a skill he can't master faster than anyone else. You're alike, but not duplicates of each other. So, let's all try to get along. Neither one of you is being replaced by the other. Ever."

Tim's turn to pop in, which was good timing, at least in my opinion, since Reader and Vance were still giving each other side-eye while trying to pretend to me that they weren't ready to kick the other one in the shins. "Hey, figured I'd find you here."

"Now I'm starting to get offended." Consoled myself by starting in on one of my donuts. "I didn't even know you were here."

"I wasn't. I came over to appeal to the only person in authority who might care that my team is still missing in action and might, conceivably, want to do something about it."

"Wow that sort of sells everyone else short."

"Yeah, well, I have five guys who are gone, and they're not the only ones still missing. I was just downstairs talking to Tito, Melanie, and Emily, and they all agree a little focus on finding the princesses would be nice, too."

"Why are Melanie and Emily here?"

And why hadn't they come to say hi? They were Lorraine and Claudia's mothers and, right after my own mother and Chuckie's mom, I liked them best, as mothers went. Lucinda had moved up in my esteem over the years, but she still wasn't in the same category as Melanie and Emily for me.

The guys all stared at me. Tim recovered first. "Oh, that's right. Tito never got to tell you. They're part of his White House Medical Staff. They and their husbands have moved here, up on the third floor with the rest of your twenty-four-seven staff."

"Awesome! And is that what we're calling our people who live here with us?"

"Yes," Vance said. "Because the normal staff rotates depending on time of day. They used to live here, but that was a long time ago. However, because of your administration's specific needs and requirements, things are reverting in some ways."

"Nice spin, and Len mentioned that to me yesterday, so, don't faint, I already knew this. But back to Tim's accurate concerns-we can talk about doing our jobs and all that, but we have people missing, and every day they're gone is a day they're in danger of some kind."

"And potentially being turned into androids," Tim added. "Which I'm not okay with in case no one's clear."

"We're all clear and, despite your insinuations, we all care," Vance said. "But in the earlier meeting you missed it was decided that everyone would do their jobs. What is your job, just out of curiosity?"

Tim glared at Vance. Not up to Christopher's standards, but then, who was? "I'm the Head of Airborne for Centaurion Division. Which I'm pretty sure you know."

"I do. I was just wondering if you did. Since you seem remarkably dependent upon Kitty to do all the heavy thinking."

"Wow, Vance, let's not be in Attack Dog Mode with these guys, okay?"

Vance heaved the Sigh of the Long-Suffering. "They, like you, refuse to accept that you have a job that's considered vitally important in our government. I'm not saying that you can't help out. I'm not insane, and I realize that you'll be doing your best to lead whatever charge your boys here are going to be coordinating. But at the same time, does anyone, anyone at all, realize that the First Lady of the United States has to represent at peace talks in a few days? Anybody? Or is it just me?"

Tim and Reader stared at Vance. "We need her help," Tim said finally. "I'm good at it, but no one thinks like the crazy people like Kitty does."

"And part of why I'm here is the upcoming peace talks," Reader added. He looked at me. "Attack dog is right. Where was this fight in him when, you know, actual fighting was taking place?"

"Vance serves in other ways."

"Look," Vance snapped, "I'm a lover, not a fighter. But you're on my turf, and Kitty hired me, and it's my damn job to make her look not just good but fantastic. She, more than any other First Lady, has the scrutiny of the world on her, thanks to that freaking lunatic Cliff Goodman. Ergo, you two either get with the program or get out. For God's sake, don't you have bloodhounds or something you can set to sniffing?"

I jerked. "Holy crap. Someone get Thomas Kendrick and Lillian Culver here, faster than fast."

CHAPTER 44.

INSISTED THAT WE STAY in the Family Dining Room because I felt that Coca-Cola and donuts were now vital to my process. Plus, fewer people were likely to hear Vance, Reader, and Tim bickering with each other.

So I snacked and the three men snarled and snapped at each other while we waited for Kendrick and Culver to arrive. Interestingly enough, Vance was handling both Reader and Tim with relative ease. Clearly the verbal sparring and such was his forte. Good.

On the plus side, when someone in the White House asks for a meeting, most people race to get right there, and Kendrick and Culver were no exceptions. Reader having floater gates sent to them helped, too. They were dressed as I was used to-Culver in her signature red, Kendrick in the Typical Washington Wear for Men, a navy suit.

Once the usual pleasantries were done, got right to it. "Thomas, you have all kinds of tracking devices, right?"

"Of course."

"Great. Got anything called a bloodhound? Or something that does what a bloodhound would do?"

He nodded. "A variety of options. Why?"

"We have missing people. Screw the planes and helicarrier. I mean, if we can find them, super-duper. But we have humans and aliens missing that we'd all like back. And so far, no one, neither you nor Drax, have suggested we use your equipment to find them. Why is that?"

"Titan's Bloodhound Tracker requires two things-the DNA of the missing person and a relative idea of where that person is. Without both, the BT is useless. We have generalized trackers, of course, but they're used more to determine if the specified target or targets is or are there."

"Beg pardon? Lots of words. Made individual sense, but . . ."

"He's being political," Culver said. "Thomas, Kitty doesn't care for political. It's why we're meeting here, not in her office. Speak plainly."

"Apologies. These trackers are made for warfare. You send them in to make sure that there are or aren't living things, such as people, where you've targeted to bomb or send strafing fire or whatever. They don't find a specific person-they find if a person is in the vicinity of the specific radius."

"What's the square mileage of the BT?" Reader asked. "We're clear the others don't do what I think it is Kitty wants, but the BT sounds like it's exactly what we need."

"A ten-mile radius, tops. We're working on refinements, but something like the BT is of far more use to covert and clandestine ops, and they've been far more focused on things that help or hinder A-Cs."

"I literally cannot wait for the list of who's been asking you for what, Thomas, and I mean that in such a totally nasty FLOTUS way you can't even imagine. By the way, I know you have a spying device called a Tarantula. Is there anything those things can't get into?"

"Anything shielded by what the A-Cs use for shielding. Other than that? They're small but powerful, and they 'sleep' as a sphere. They can move as a sphere, as well, if need be. If air can get in, it's likely the Tarantulas can, too."

"How many BTs do you have?" Tim asked.

"Megalomaniac Lad, it's lovely that your confidence is back and we're once again on the same wavelength."

Kendrick shook his head. "Not enough for what I'm sure you're going to suggest. They're very costly to create, and we haven't sold any yet. I have a handful of prototypes, but that's it. Not enough to blanket the world and wait."

"Can they find something that's mostly inanimate? Like smart metal?"