Chapter 2:
Valerie Stack would remember that bright Saturday morning for the rest of her life. She was one day out from graduation, and the little family was gathered around the table for breakfast. Mike and Lucy were occupying the window-seat together, looking like they were madly in love. Valerie was sitting across from them, with her mother and brother occupying the two end seats. They had spent most of the morning talking about the graduation and the party after, with Bill Jr. teasing his sister about ending her life as a delinquent and getting a real job finally. Val accepted his ribbing in good grace, teasing him back by suggesting that he had stopped doing a real job when he became a sargent.
Silvia shushed the both of them finally, reminding them, "we've got a guest in the house. You two could be nice to each other for a change." Grinning, Val said, "well, the delinquent has to go into town to the lab, so I'll leave my hard-working brothers at the TV." Turning to her would-be sister-in-law, Val asked, "hey, Lucy? Want to ride into town with me?" Never having been in New York City, Lucy was quick to agree. With a kiss goodbye for her boyfriend, Lucy followed Val out to her little Honda.
Val put the car in gear and headed for the nearest park-and-ride lot so they could catch a ride on the subway. It was the first time she'd really been alone with Lucy without her mother around, and now, with curiosity burning her up, she couldn't help asking the question on her mind. "So," said Val. "You're an alien..." Lucy glanced up into her would-be sister-in-law's eyes.
Val was smiling. She was almost giddy as if this was a delicious secret. "My brother already told me," she admitted. "Which planet are you from?" "Actually," said Lucy, "I'm a citizen of the US, just like you. I was born in a little town in Wyoming." As were her parents and grandparents. "You mean there's sludge-people who've been living here that long," whispered Val? She was in awe. Giving Valerie a sweet smile, Lucy explained, "'sludge-person' is actually kinda like using the N-word with us. The correct term is Lenopan." "S-sorry," replied Val. Lucy shrugged, "no problem."
"Sooo," said Val. "When are you going to break the news to mom?" "Left it to Mike," replied Lucy. "I guess he's waiting on a good time." Valerie snorted. They might be waiting a while for that to come out. "Hard to believe you're not really human," opined Val. She looked so normal. She looked like a walking fucking heart-attack. Her oldest brother had been practically drooling. Lucy blushed and grinned.
"Mom's going to be a little disappointed," said Val. "She was hoping for grandkids..." Ones she actually got to see. With Bill getting divorced, she'd lost contact with her current crop. Blushing, Lucy said, "Mike and I have been talking about kids..." The biochemist glanced over at Lucy in puzzlement. She didn't think that was possible. "My cousin Camille's married to a human," said Lucy. "They have two." That floored Val. Teasing, Lucy said, "don't get any ideas about experimenting on our kids..." Val laughed, but she had a million questions.
Lucy's head was spinning when they got out of the car at the subway station. Her sister-in-law had asked questions even she couldn't answer about the Lenopan race, and Lucy knew most anything that someone would want to know. Walking towards the stairs to the subway station, Val changed the subject, knowing that it wasn't good to discuss private business out in the open. As the two rode into town, Val told her about restaurants they could hit while they were in town and places to go and see. While she did have to go into the lab for fifteen minutes or so, she didn't plan to stay there all day.
The famous NYC subway was a sight–and smell–to behold. Lucy was certain Attea would have been completed revolted by the scent. She was. Fortunately, it was a Saturday morning, the train was mostly empty, and there was no ongoing maintenance. They were at Val's job in just thirty minutes.
Lucy hung around outside for a while, letting her sister-in-law go up to her office. Valerie had to check up on a test she'd left running in the background. It was important to her boss, and she was anxious to make sure it made it through to conclusion. This was their third attempt, and apparently the customer was getting very anxious. Fortunately, things were going well today. In a scant twenty minutes, Val was back downstairs with Lucy. "Let's go," said the pretty brunette.
The two women strolled the streets of the Big Apple, getting their shop on, checking out shoes and dresses, window-shopping in jewelry stores, and having a grand old time. Strolling across a picturesque old park, carrying bags of loot, the two women laughed like family, enjoying the day. Val could hardly get over how normal Lucy was. She was like any of Val's friends–heavily invested in bling and pretty shoes. Honestly Val had fallen in love with her, and she was looking forward to having Lucy in the family.
Lucy, on the other hand, had one eye on their surroundings. This was the big city. There were a number of unsavory types lurking in the park. There were a couple of vagrants begging for money. She saw a couple of men who might have been dealing drugs. There was even a man who's roving eye said 'sex-predator' without his lips once moving.
There was also a fairly odd trio standing beneath a tree dressed in all-enveloping parkas with the hoods drawn up, well overhead. They set off alarm-bells in Lucy's head. It wasn't that cold, and she was from California. Seeing where Lucy's eyes went, Val opined, "bet it's Haitians or Jamaicans. They think below seventy is freezing!" Lucy nodded uncertainly. As Lucy stared, a young Hispanic male strode up to the three.
"Hey, Chico," announced a voice.
Every face there–the three parka wearing men, the young Hispanic, and Lucy–turned to face the voice. An older cop was coming up the steet. He was a handsome latin man–like Lucy's previous boyfriend with sexy dark skin and pretty brown eyes and the sort of rugged looks that made Lucy weak in the knees. Beside him came a much younger cop. This one was pale and pretty to the Hispanic's dark and handsome. The older cop lectured the young thug, "you know better, Chico. Not in the park in broad daylight!"
Apparently he had a history with the young hood because 'Chico' approached him with his hands outstretched, announcing, "naw, Ray, man... I ain't got nothin' on me, man..." He even started turning out his pockets. Ray told his young partner, "watch him..." Furtive movements by the three 'Haitians' had him nervous. Hands on his service weapon, the patrolman approached the three, announcing, "let me see your hands..."
That was when the world exploded.
Lucy had seen the same furtive move, and instinctively she shoved Val to the icy ground behind a stone bench as the fïrst Incursean drew his pistol and fired point-blank into the cop's chest. Kevlar, flesh, and bone vaporized instantly. The cop was dead before he hit the ground. Chico tore out of there, as the second cop opened fire. His Hornady Critical Duties slammed into the frog's arm and ribs and some flew past to churn up the dirt.
Terrified by the sight of the ugly alien soaking up bullets, the young patrolman was target-fixated on the frog as he hammered away at center-of-mass ineffectually. The Incursean took his time, taking careful aim, and Lucy knew she had to act. Darting out from cover, she knocked the patrolman to the ground, just as his assailant opened up. Bolts of plasma slammed into the parked cars behind the cop, setting several alight and blowing one sky-high in one shot.
Deftly, Lucy disarmed the young cop, coming up with his weapon and taking careful aim at the frog's face. Squeezing off the last two shots in the magazine, she drilled the frog through his tiny brain, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. Before the cop could even begin to register what had just happened, Lucy was in motion again, dropping his pistol and rushing towards the Incursean's steaming corpse. Diving at the last second, doing a neat tuck-and-roll, she came up with the frog's blaster as his buddies turned to face her. Two shots, center of mass, did in the first of them. She shot the second as he was turning to flee, catching him in his hip and knocking him down.
And that was when the NYPD swarmed the area with over a dozen shouting cops, screaming, "get on the ground! Get on the ground!" Lucy dropped the Incursean pistol and raised her hands. "On the ground, bitch," snarled the biggest of the cops as he grabbed her hair. "Move, and I swear I'll fucking blow your brains out!" Lucy went limp as the men shoved her hard into the pavement. Val screamed at them to stop, and the surviving patrolman tried to make himself heard over the shouting, but none of those men were listening. Somebody planted a boot on Lucy's back, while another cop kicked her in the ribs in his rush to get the pistol away from her.
They cuffed her–painfully tight–and then hauled her to her feet for a rather crude and thorough search. One of them came up with her ID and Plumber badge. "What the fuck is this," growled the lead cop as he waved her badge in front of her eyes? "Who the fuck are you?" "Lucy Mann," replied Lucy. "I'm a Plumber." He behaved as if he hadn't heard her, demanding, "who the fuck are you? What the fuck is this thing?" Knowing that talking could just make things worse, Lucy shut up. Seeing that she had clammed up, the cops began hauling her towards one of the cars. Val begged them to stop, trying to explain that Lucy had been helping them, but one of them actually shoved her to the ground and threatened to shoot her. As Val stared in horror, Lucy got shoved face-first into one of the squad-cars, which promptly roared out of there at high speed.
Across town, Lucy's lover was just slipping into a table at the seedy bar around the corner from his mother's house. Mike and his older brother had spent most of the morning just sitting around talking about old times. As noon approached, Bill Sr. had shown up and asked them to lunch. Having not seen much of his dad since before he left, Mike immediately agreed. Telling his mother where they were going, the three set out for the seedy tavern at the corner.
Settling in at a table, the three men caught up on each other's lives. Bill Sr. did a lot of the talking, telling his sons about all the political shenanigans going on in the department. It often seemed like he spent more time fighting red-tape than crime. Mike's brother echoed a lot of that sentiment. He had his own political crosses to bear. As the two older men sipped their way through their beer, Mike got to hear all about the life he'd left behind. Honestly, he felt sorry for the both of them. They sounded like they were both in hell!
"Says the guy who runs down frogs from space," laughed Billy. He liked the life he had, and he wouldn't have traded it for Mike's crazy world if they paid him a million a year. "Bad enough when the Feds are running their ops in our backyard without notice," opined the elder brother. He didn't like these 'Plumbers'. He didn't like the way they'd hidden things from people. "I get that they couldn't tell joe six-pack," growled Jr., "but they could have told us."
Mike acknowledged that. "I been workin' on that," said he. "You know these guys," asked Bill Sr.? Mike said, "know Magister Tennyson personally. Spent a lot of time working with his grandson." The senior man whistled in amazement. Mike said, "we got them to participate in 911 dispatch. We got them to trade information. We have standing agreements on trading over custody of guys we can't hold in our lockups. They're decent guys..." "They give you guys guns to stop these psycho aliens," asked Bill Jr.? "No?" "Air-Force give you Apache gunships," retorted Mike? His brother clammed up.
With a sigh, Mike explained, "they'd run afoul of their own Internal Affairs, Billy. Just like you can't hand out Glocks to every battered housewife, they got regs that limit what they can do..." He was working on convincing the old man to open more facilities, and he'd sat in on technical discussions that BPD's body-armor supplier had had with the Plumbers. As his son spoke, it became clear to Bill Sr. that his son wasn't running around playing a bit part in a movie. What he was involved with was serious work–work that might someday affect every department and beat-cop in America–if not the world. In that moment, William Anthony Stack Sr. was immensely proud of his son. Telling his oldest kid to stick a sock in the griping, Bill clapped his boy on the shoulder and said, "you keep at it, son."
Disgusted, Jr. got up and went for more beer. While he was gone, his father moved on to the question that had been burning in his mind. Bill Stack leaned in and asked, "so what's the story wit dis goil, Mikey?" "Love of my life, pop," replied Mike. "Y'er brother says she's a cop," announced the elder Stack. "You really want to tie yourself up with a cop?" Mike laughed, "same thing I said to her, pop." Leaning forward, he admitted, "funnily enough, dad... she gets me. Maybe... Maybe that's the way it should be. She understands the shit I put up with every day, and she doesn't get mad when I come home feeling pissed off. I don't get mad at her f'er being moody after a day of working undercover either." They leaned on each other.
"How'd you meet this girl," asked Jr. as he sat down with a couple more beers? "None for me," said Mike. The older man frowned at him, and howled, "since when do you turn down a beer?" Mike shrugged, "since I saw that kid with his brains blown out on Tenth Street two years back. I wanted to drink so badly, I could taste it. I made myself walk out o'that bar, and I ain't been back since." Moving on, Mike told his dad, "met her on that alien gun-smuggling case last year. Fell for her the first I saw her." "With knobs like that girl has, I believe it," laughed Billy! Blushing to his hair, Mike laughed too.
"I don't see how you get past that laugh," chuckled Billy Stack. "Bad," asked Sr.? Shaking his head, Mike admitted, "the worst!" Laughing, he said, "I love her the most when she's laughing, dad." He loved Lucy's laugh. There were lots of pretty girls in the world, but only one Lucy. "Man, you are house-broke," laughed Billy! Mike nodded, but he wouldn't have changed that for the world.
The three men chatted for over an hour and may well have continued into the afternoon if the bartender hadn't turned on the TV. Billy was the only person at the table facing the TV, and, initially he was tuned out, not really even paying attention. At least until the coroners carried the two dead aliens past the camera. "Holy shit," howled Bill Stack Jr.! Those words had both his father and younger brother staring first at him, then at the tube. And that's when Mike saw Lucy's picture flash on the screen as the shooter. "That's your girl," shouted Jr.! Mike immediately dove for his coat. Jerking the cellphone from his pocket, he found a half-dozen missed calls! "Shit," he shouted! "I gotta' get back to ma's house!"