Before he could pull it closed, something struck him hard in the chest, though it made no noise and delivered surprisingly little pain. Fatigue finally began to overtake him, and time was suddenly flowing in a bizarre, variable-speed slow motion. The impact didn't feel like that of a bullet, and he saw a taut length of fine wire gleaming in the sunlight as it stretched across the gap between his body and the approaching agent's gun.
It was only when the second impact, and another length of wire, struck him that he realized what he was up against. As the electrical current surged mercilessly into his body and through his already overloaded central nervous system, a single word entered his mind.
Taser His body rigid, Rath tumbled into and past the Humvee's still-open door. The parking lot rushed up to greet him. He thought briefly of Lonnie before consciousness fled.
Then he thought and felt nothing at all.
'SOo they think we're terrorists now?' Kyle's voice sounded shrill even in his own ears. 'What? How? Geeeeeeesh!' He yanked at the hair on top of his head in frustration and stomped away, his carefully crafted Buddhist equanimity all in tatters.
'Possible terrorist attack is what they said,' Liz responded, her tone solemn.
Kyle stopped, forcing his emotions back under control as best he could. He turned to see how the others were taking the latest news.
Max leaned against the now dent-free side of the Microbus. 'Whether they think we're terrorists or alien invaders, we still have a big problem. It was bad enough when the Men in Black or other aliens were chasing us. But now we're at risk from the police as well. “
Michael laughed, but it sounded mirthless. 'Yeah, with our luck, we'll end up on America 's Most Wanted. “
'Okay, let's just chill out for a minute,' Isabel said, raising her hands level with her head, palms out. 'That's not the only thing we need to worry about. “
Maria sighed. 'You mean the people who were in the accident Kyle caused? “
'Hey, I did not cause that accident,' Kyle said, pointing his finger angrily at Maria. He felt bad enough about what had happened without any of his friends rubbing his nose in it. 'I was trying to save all our lives. “
Michael stepped in front of Kyle's finger, his face clouded with emotion. 'Step back, Valenti,' he growled.
Max put his hand on Michael's shoulder. 'Hey, you step back too, Michael. Snapping at each other isn't going to get us anywhere.' He sighed, then continued. 'Liz, what exactly did that report say about the accident? “
'It said the driver of one of the cars involved and a teenage passenger in another car were both in critical condition,' Liz said soberly. 'Apparently, the cops or government guys who were chasing us weren't badly hurt at all. “
Michael snorted again. 'Yeah, that's just our luck. “
It occurred to Kyle that there was a way to salve his mounting guilt. 'So, we should go help those people,' he said. 'Let Max do his alien faith-healing thing. “
'Too risky,' Liz said.
Maria blanched and looked at her friend. 'You say it's too risky? You always want to help the helpless. “
'Of course I want to help, but we might put ourselves in even more danger,' Liz said. 'And if it comes down to a choice between saving all of us, or some people who got hurt because the government wouldn't leave us alone, I'm going to pick all of us. “
No one said anything for a moment, and the only sounds nearby were the leaves on an oak tree as they rustled in the gentle afternoon breeze.
Then Kyle decided he didn't accept Liz's us-or-them choice. There had to be a better way.
'Who's going to expect us to sneak into a hospitall “
Topeka, Kansas Special Agent Suzanne Duff moved through the hallway gracefully, despite the large number of dark-suited men and conservatively dressed women who clogged the area. The legislative session was breaking for the day, and the various assistants, pages, and press people milled about the foyer of the capitol.
Touching her earpiece, Duff heard one of her fellow agents confirm that Senator McNeil was leaving the chamber. She made her way to an appropriate spot and waited. A few seconds later the murmur of the mob changed, and McNeil strode forward, flanked by a pair of Secret Service men… or reasonable bodyguard facsimiles thereof… and trailed by a pack of reporters.
Duff watched them all closely as they walked by. The senator had been receiving death threats for the last two weeks, and although the vast majority of such threats were harmless, the FBI profilers had been alarmed by the frequency and specificity of these angry missives.
One of the so-called news crewmen was actually an FBI agent who was recording everyone who had any contact with the senator in public. Each of the images was fed into facial recognition software and compared to the federal databases. So far, none of those scanned since her agents had come on board had come up with even a single flag of potential trouble.
The senator was not without his enemies, which made this particular hunt even more difficult. His stance on abortion angered the right-to-lifers, while his recent negative comments about the state's gay community had gotten him into even more hot water. Can't please the right or the left, Duff thought. McNeil is perfect water-cooler discussion material. Everyone has an opinion about him.
Personally, Duff didn't particularly like McNeil. Certainly, he had treated her with respect when she and her staff had interviewed him about the threat-letters, but she had expected that. She wondered what he would feel about her privately… and what he might say publicly… if he knew the truth about her. He could see that she was African-American and a woman easily enough, but he wouldn't have known she was a lesbian just by looking at her. The trijecta for bigots, she thought with a rueful smile. A black gay woman. She suspected that McNeil would have rather had a married white male agent heading up his case. Fortunately for Duff, one didn't always get to pick one's protectors.
As McNeil neared the elevator, Duff felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Directing her voice down to her collar microphone, she said, 'Watch the woman in the blue coat approaching to the senator's left. She's got something in her hand. Doesn't feel… “
Before she had finished, the woman made her move. Her hand flashed out, crimson liquid spraying outward from it all over the senator, his aide, and a reporter from Channel 6 news.
The woman started to yell, 'This is the blood of the unborn…,' but in less than a second, two FBI agents had tackled her. The Secret Service men drew their guns and stepped in front of McNeil, forming a human shield around him.
'Step back! Everybody step back!' Duff yelled, pushing the reporters and everyone else away from the immediate vicinity. Amazingly, they obeyed her. Perhaps it was because of the already-drawn guns that backed up Duff's warning, or maybe in the shock of the moment they were merely happy to be told what to do.
The woman was screaming as the agents held her down. One had drawn her hands up behind her back and was kneeling on her neck, while the other was efficiently frisking her. Duff knelt to retrieve the item the woman had dropped, being careful to grab it with a handkerchief so as not to disturb any fingerprints. The item was a large coffee cup, its insides coated in a viscous red liquid. Blood. Or something like it. She sniffed it. No, not blood.
She stood and faced McNeil, whose aide was busy wiping the spatters off the senators face. 'Are you all right, sir?' Duff asked.
