“Now,” Chuckie growled, “why would you think that?”
Tobin shrugged again. “There are aliens all over. We know it. The President tells us aliens were what attacked at Camp David last month. So, what’s to stop you from bringing in more aliens to combat them?”
“That sounds suspiciously like he’s trying to pretend he’d support that idea,” Claudia said.
“I think that spin would be a bad tactic for us to use,” Lorraine countered. “Though I’m sure Tobin would love us to give him something that big to work with.”
“He’s trying to lead Chuck, to make Chuck give something away,” Jeff said. “Tobin doesn’t feel that he knows that this is why aliens are coming, he’s just guessing.”
“Despite Claudia and Lorraine’s concerns, that could be a good reason for us to allow the refugees safe haven, Jeffrey,” White said.
“Only not all will be in a position to fight,” Muddy pointed out for those new to this news.
“Why would you think we need to do that?” Reader asked Tobin.
Tobin rolled his eyes. “We needed to do that the last time we were invaded. Why would this time be any different?”
“Just what kind of telephone system do you think we have?” Tim asked with a grin.
Tobin chuckled. “One good enough to bring a boatload of aliens here who are still sticking around.”
“He means the Planetary Council,” I said, “and don’t anyone say ‘duh.’ Someone remind him that those aliens came to welcome us into the Galactic Community.”
“Duh,” Jeff said quietly. I shot him a glare and he shot me a very sexy grin. Decided to forgive him for the duh. “Kitty’s right, that’s exactly who Tobin’s thinking of. And he’s aware that we view them as friends. Interestingly, he’s not feeling that they’re enemies—it’s just something to use against us.”
While Jeff was doing his explanation, Reader shared what I’d asked. Tobin didn’t look impressed. “Or they came to plot with you against us,” he said dismissively.
“You know that’s not true,” Tim said.
Tobin shook his head. “No, son, I don’t know that. All I know is that you all consort with any and all aliens and leave the regular humans out.”
“That’s real,” Jeff said. “He’s jealous that he’s not in our inner circle.”
“I feel the love. Not my fault he hasn’t done anything to earn our trust.”
“I’m a regular human,” Tim said. “So is Thomas Kendrick. Neither one of us are left out.”
“Thomas drank your Kool-Aid.”
“Just what is that supposed to mean?” Reader asked.
“I mean you’re trying to take this world away from the humans and give it to aliens. Any alien, as long as they’re not a human.”
“He means it,” Jeff said.
“Sounds like the typical Club Fifty-One True Believers rhetoric,” Chuckie said. “So, you’re basically one of our homegrown terrorists. You were tracking the First Lady to try to finish what your cronies started—her assassination.”
“No one else speak,” I said urgently. “That’s the definitive statement.” Tim grinned, Reader rolled his eyes at me, and Chuckie didn’t react. But none of them spoke.
Tobin didn’t stay silent too long. Well, at least not in comparison to how long he’d stayed silent before. A good thirty seconds passed—during which time Chuckie looked deadly, Tim looked bored, and Reader looked pissed—before he finally spoke.
“No.”
Jeff grunted. “He doesn’t want to kill Kitty. At least emotionally she’s not a target. He feels . . . amused by the idea.”
Chuckie rolled his eyes. “Right.” He looked at Reader. “Tell the cops we’ll be taking this one. I presume he was involved with the attack on the precinct, too.”
“I have rights,” Tobin said.
Chuckie got right in his face. “Not in this room, you don’t. You’ve been involved in a terrorist attack on American soil and American targets, as well as on American Centaurion soil and American Centaurion targets. News flash—that makes you a terrorist. There will be a fight between the CIA, the FBI, and Homeland Security for which Agency gets to grill you. I’m betting we’ll play nicely together and share the love, though. Because you and your lunatic friends attacking our President and our First Lady under the nauseating purity of the race idea just moved you up to Public Enemy Number One.”
Tobin snorted. “I’m not a terrorist, son. And you can’t disappear me—I’m a powerful public figure.”
“We can,” I said. “YatesCorp has the Bloodline Clause. And we have several people who can prove blood ties to Ronald Yates. All we have to do is announce that we’ve found Yates progeny and the Board will have to be focused on that.”
Chuckie smirked. “Really? Well, I hope you can prove that you’re related to Ronald Yates, then.”
Tobin blinked. “Excuse me?”
Jeff sat up. “That has his attention and, for the first time, he’s worried.”
“YatesCorp has an interesting clause in its governing documents,” Chuckie said. “All someone has to do in order to take a full seat on the board, with all the salary and rights and so forth, is to prove a genetic connection to Ronald Yates. Now, you’re not going to sit there and tell me that you don’t know about that.”
“I have no idea—”
“Bull,” Reader said. “There’s no way you don’t know about it. You’re not trying to stop a supposed alien invasion. You’re trying to remove anyone you think might have a blood tie to Ronald Yates.”
Looked at Jeff. “Starting with you.”
CHAPTER 33
THAT TOBIN HAD AN ULTERIOR MOTIVE wasn’t a shock. That it hadn’t dawned on us before that he’d probably be looking to protect his interests was the shocker.
There were a lot of people with provable Yates bloodline out there. All the Martini clan other than Alfred and the men who’d married Jeff’s sisters, due to Jeff’s mother, Lucinda. All the White clan other than Amy. Serene and her son, Patrick. Mahin Sherazi, who was a hybrid. Siler, if his DNA hadn’t been too altered by his parents. Nerida Alfero and any other hybrid Crazy Eights or Yates Family Players that might still be alive. Heck, even the Ronaldo Al Dejahl clone who was on Beta Eight, aka Ronaldo 2.0, probably could make a claim that would stick. Basically, there was a lot of competition for board seats, and it would make sense that said board would be fully in support of Tobin ensuring that there was no competition left alive.
But it wouldn’t take all of them. It would only take Jeff. Because if the President of the United States was now on the YatesCorp board and shared that he didn’t care for the dude running the corporation, then said dude would be out faster than Tobin could utter one of his folksy sayings.
And if the President couldn’t serve due to the requirements of office, well then, his uncle and cousin certainly could. Meaning Christopher and White were also on the Assassination Roll Call List.