The one fly in the ointment appeared to be Deputy Valenti, the ex-sheriff of the town. Valenti had already "made" two of the Special Unit's agents, and he clearly knew that surveillance was still ongoing. And although his house had been easy enough to watch, the Roswell Sheriff's station wasn't quite so easy to bug.
Margolin and his agents discussed briefly arranging an "accident" for Valenti… after taking him in to answer a few questions, of course… but the group consensus was that such a course of action was extreme, at least for the moment. After all, none of the parents had made a move to leave town, and although their private conversations and phone calls to one another were often full of expressions of concern for their kids' safety, they never, ever discussed the alien aspects of their "children. “
"It's almost as if they don't even know," one of the agents had said.
But Margolin knew that the evidence just didn't support that. A videotape of Isabel Evans using telekinetic powers had been recovered from the Evans's VCR during an air force search, and the search dogs had tracked the smell of alien blood to the Valenti and Evans homes just prior to the mass destruction of Rogers Air Force Base by the blond girl they had later identified as Tess Harding, the daughter of a former military consultant who had since gone missing. At minimum, Phillip and Diane Evans and Jim Valenti had to know something.
But whether they knew the whole truth was a legitimate question. Of them all, Valenti seemed the most likely to know all there was to know about the alien nature of the Roswell teens, as well as the complicity of their friends. Valenti had been involved in far too many strange and unexplained circumstances with various members of "The Six," as the fugitive kids were now known, to plead ignorance about them and what they were up to now. He had even lost his job as Roswell 's sheriff because of a case related to the teens, although he had eventually been rehired as a deputy.
"If we're going to find them, it will be Valenti who leads us to them," Margolin said to the other members of the Special Unit, most of whom were nodding in agreement.
"Don't forget," Bartolli said, idly gazing at a gleaming, razor-sharp knife he'd carried with him since his navy days. "Valenti stands to lose his son if he does lead us to those kids. He's gonna take precautions. “
Margolin nodded. "Exactly. So this won't be an easy hunt. “
Bartolli put the knife away, his grin saying, Bring it on.
This time it was the other agent's sharklike smile that made the hairs on the back of Margolin's neck stand on end.
Agent Harrison looked up from the magazine when his computer beeped. He quickly scanned the data on the screen. His storefront office, part of what was ostensibly a realty company, faced the west outer wall of the sheriffs station on East Fifth Street; the window overlooked the parking lot, enabling him to keep track of Valenti's departures and arrivals. The signals from the few bugs and traps they had managed to set up inside the sheriff's station were strong enough to be received here.
The programs the Special Unit was using were beyond cutting-edge. They had been developed by a few of the top hackers in the country, each working independently, each hoping that the "help" they gave the federal government's Office of Total Information Awareness (TIA) would mean leniency for whatever computer crimes they had committed. The task was made easier in the post… September 11 world; even hackers were patriots if they thought they could stop terrorists. And while the programs they developed were already in use for the tracking of human-made terrorist threats, the Special Unit was free to deploy the very same technology in its ongoing effort to trap the aliens who lived among an unsuspecting populace.
Today the T1A surveillance programs were working very well indeed. Quickly, Harrison punched a phone button that gave him a direct line to Director Margolin. Simultaneously, he brought up the file he'd need to send and began scanning all the relevant numbers and map coordinates.
"Yes," came the voice on the other end of the line.
"Sir, I've got them with the encryption trap. They've just transmitted three e-mails from a site in Cheyenne, Wyoming. “
"Good. Alert the FBI field office immediately," Margolin said.
"Already on it," Harrison said. Updated copies of the fugitives' files… which contained photos of the six teens… went to the FBI field office, as well as to both the state and city police departments. Harrison included an e-mail message: To all departments: Suspects in terror plot spotted at "Cybernet Cafe" establishment, 2376 Cypress Avenue, at 1400 hours. Suspects are armed and dangerous, but must be subdued. No lethal force. Use Bags, tranks, or tasers. Do not interrogate. Press blackout. Call 888-555-2938 with confirmation of capture.
"Sent, sir," Harrison said.
"Send me copies of the three e-mails as soon as you can." "Right away," Harrison said, scrambling to do just that. "Let's hope we catch them this time," Margolin said. "Good work, Harrison. “
The young agent grinned. He hadn't been a part of the Special Unit for very long. This would look very good in his files. He began to read the e-mails he had trapped. Deputy Valenti will never know they'd been intercepted.
Cheyenne, Wyoming Sitting in the cafe between Maria and Isabel, Liz watched Kyle and Michael and wondered if any two people could be more different. Kyle sat behind a computer terminal, a model of Zen calm. Like the Buddha, she thought, if he'd ever tried to find nirvana by surfing naughty Web sites.
Michael, however, didn't appear capable of sitting, as far as Liz could see. He was pacing like a caged tiger.
"They're going to intercept those e-mails," he said. "Just like they've probably bugged the phones. “
"Maybe," said Max, who was leaning in a nearby corner, evidently trying to stay out of Michael's way. "Maybe not. “
Liz spoke up, hoping to reassure both Max and Michael. "There's no way they can do that. Deputy Valenti took plenty of precautions. Besides, I'm pretty sure it's impossible to tap and trace e-mail messages anyway. “
Max didn't look too sure about that. And Michael appeared utterly unconvinced. "A lot of people think aliens are impossible too," Michael said quietly.
"Relax, Michael," Kyle said, grinning, as Michael moved toward the door, looking suspiciously across the quiet open-air mall outside for perhaps the hundredth time. "We're safe as houses here. “
"You know, I never understood that expression, “
Michael said. "Houses blow apart when it gets windy enough outside. We need to get out of here soon." Looking up at the digital clock over the door, he added, "It's 2:02. You guys have five minutes to wrap this up and settle the check. Max and I are going to get some snacks for the road over at the tacqueria. We're almost completely out of Tabasco sauce. “
"Who died and made him king?" Maria said sullenly, as Max and Michael departed the cafe and went outside into the mall courtyard.
Liz gave her friend a look, cocking an eyebrow. "He's your boyfriend. You should be able to tame the wild beast. “
"Oh, we've all had so much time for beast-taming, living in the back of the van together and driving across the scenic wilds of the Southwest," Maria said. "I bet Max will start getting just as cranky as Michael if the two of you keep getting as little, um, quality time together as Michael and I get. “
Isabel made a pained face and put her hands up, palms out. "Ewwww, okay? I don't need to hear about it. I haven't even seen my husband for four months, so your problems seem minimal compared with mine. “