Turnabout

Or at least, he was no longer entirely there. On one level, he was vaguely aware of the rough hands that were dragging him away. On another, he was sitting in the backseat of the Microbus, looking into the faces of Isabel, Kyle, Jesse, and Shelby as the dark highway unwound in front of the weatherbeaten little van's windshield. Max felt groggy with fatigue and fear. «Who's driving?» Maria cast a quick backward glance in Max's direction from the driver's seat. «I have to get to do something around here, don't I?» «It's not over,' Isabel repeated, looking Max squarely in the eye. Max laughed bitterly. «That's not how it looks from in here. I think they've finally beaten us, Iz.» He thought about telling her that they had pistol-whipped Dad right in front of him, but thought better of it. «Don't come here. There's no point in letting them capture you, too.» Memories of Liz's earlier future-flash predicting Isabel's vivisection returned to haunt him. It struck him that she might soon become the Royal One. Isabel thrust out her lower lip defiantly. «Shut up, Max. We're coming to rescue you.» «Listen, Max,' Kyle said, leaning forward, his eyes shining with earnest intensity. «The camcorder cavalry should already be arriving in droves. Both local and national media, from the look of it. They'll blow everything the Special Unit's doing right now sky-high.» «We're almost there too,' Jesse said, glancing briefly toward the front, where the white lines on the road were moving past as quickly as machine-gun fire. «You were all supposed to stay at Langley's,' Max said. «We kind of thought you might say that,' Shelby said, grinning. «That's why we sort of neglected to tell you.» «Besides, we didn't want to hang around there, just in case Langley's place got raided,' Jesse said. His dark features were a mask of grim determination. Max knew that Jesse had killed before to protect his wife from government alien-hunters; Max could tell from the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes that he wouldn't hesitate to do so again if push came to shove. Jesse's mention of Langley prompted Max to look quickly around the back of the Microbus. «Where is Langley? And Michael? Aren't they still hooked into the mental linkup?» Max suddenly worried that the Special Unit had already killed them both. «Sure, they are,' Kyle said, as enthusiastic as Max was tired. «Michael is unconscious, and Langley seems to be about to wet himself. I think you're not seeing them here in the link because I'm getting better at setting up private psychic chat rooms for specific people. I swear, Max, I'm starting to think I can do just about anything if I put my mind to it.» Max desperately wished that were true. But he knew that wishes were worse than useless. Only deeds counted. He felt himself slipping away from his friends as the Special Unit troopers marched him away. «Tell them to say 'cheese,' Max,' Shelby said. «The fourth estate is gonna have film at eleven. And the Special Unit's gonna have a lot of explaining to do.» Max felt his emotional center of gravity shift yet again. But this time the pit of despair seemed to recede from him, even as the brightly lit corridor he was being marched down completely replaced the interior of the Microbus. He suddenly stopped walking, and noted that all of the other captives his and Liz's parents, Michael, Liz, Valenti, Duff, and Langley were all being marched or dragged in the same direction. Good, Except for Michael and Dad, they can all hear me. Scarface and the feral man converged on him. «Let's keep moving, Max,' said Scarface. «There's no point in delaying the inevitable, after all.» Max felt his earlier confidence return, like the sudden break of dawn. «You're right. That's why you should have somebody look out the window. You're surrounded.» The feral man scowled and looked as though he was about to strike Max, but Scarface raised a hand and told his subordinate to give the outer perimeter a quick check. Though he appeared doubtful, the feral man made a terse query into his communications earpiece. He listened in silence for a moment. Then his eyes grew large and incredulous. He turned toward Scarface. «The whole place really is surrounded,' he said. Scarface scowled. «Surrounded? By what?» «News vans! And they're not ours.» Max grinned. Turnabout, he thought. 17. It's show time, Maria thought. The tires squealed in protest when she brought the Microbus to a halt beside the brightly lit ring of vehicles primarily, vans festooned with broadcast gear and marked with the insignia of various local and national media outlets that had already encircled the ancient factory building. Maria was the first to hop out, and Kyle, Isabel, Jesse, and Shelby quickly followed suit, exiting the van through the other two doors. «This must be the place,' Maria said, fiddling nervously with the alien compass device that had guided her here. «Too bad we couldn't find an alternative to 'outing' ourselves to the media,' Isabel said. «There goes whatever chance we had at living normal lives.» «Normal. I'm not sure I know what that even means anymore,' Kyle said, shouldering the backpack that housed the alien artifacts Eddie had given them. «I'm surprised it was so easy to get this many media people interested in Max's story so quickly,' Jesse said. Drawing her sweater tightly about herself against the late-night cold, Shelby nodded. «I was thinking the same thing.» Maria had to agree. All this media interest on such short notice struck her as awfully convenient, and more than a little suspicious. «Maybe there's a way to shed a little light on that question.» Reaching down to her fanny pack, she retrieved one of the alien compass thingies Langley had called them tenspleefs or something from where she had stashed it earlier. Imitating the hand movements she'd seen Max, Michael, and Langley making back at the mansion, she tried to activate it. Nothing happened. Oh, yeah. I don't have alien powers like Liz or Kyle or the charter members of the Pod Squad. This thing evidently won't run on my charm or my outstanding, P.J. Harvey-like song styling sensibility. She turned to Isabel and handed her the alien tracking dingus. «Would you do the honors?» Isabel took the device, which remained pointed toward the news vans. «What am I looking for?» «Cousins of yours,' said Maria. «To test a theory of mine. I have an idea about why the media people are so interested in the alien-hunter story we planted tonight.» «And that is?» Kyle said. Maria watched in silence as Isabel closed her eyes and concentrated on activating the device that sat in the palms of her hands. The tracking device suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree. Everyone watched the flashing lights in silence until Maria spoke, breaking the spell. «I've heard of foreign correspondents but I had no idea how many reporters really aren't from around here.» «Sort of explains Geraldo Rivera, doesn't it?» said Kyle. «And maybe that Alan Colmes guy on Fox News,' Maria said. «Michael says he's a Romulan.» «Guess it makes sense to take a healthy interest in a story about aliens and alien-hunters,' Shelby said. «Especially if you're a reporter who comes from another planet.» Rath kept his hands up as the agent prodded him and Ava forward with the barrel of his Glock. As they reached a door labeled MEDICAL SECTION, Rath looked toward Ava for reassurance. She gave him a nod that told him the man who had «captured» them was seeing and hearing only what she wanted him to see and hear. Rath was glad Ava had been able to nudge him into finding an entrance to the place where the MiBs had taken Lonnie without leading them into the path of the loud fire fight they had just heard going down in a nearby corridor. «Go on in,' the agent said, and Rath wasted no time pushing the door open. Here we come, Lonnie. Well have you out of here in no time flat. In the room's center lay a table, which was sprinkled liberally in crimson robin's-egg patterns. And atop the table lay Lonnie. Or what was left of her. No. Not Lonnie. The bastards! Time seemed to stop. Ava burst into great wracking sobs. Rath glanced at the MiB who had been in her thrall; he was blinking and looking stupidly about the room, as though unsure of how he'd gotten here. Then the agent pointed his gun straight at Rath, obviously no longer under Ava's control. You'll pay, Rath thought, raising a hand, his palm facing the agent. You'll all pay, you murdering bastards. His Antarian powers focused his rage like a laser. A moment later, nothing remained of the agent save a charred pile of meat, smoldering clothing, and melted metal weaponry. Rath could hear raised voices and footfalls coming from just beyond the chamber's opposite door. «More MiBs are on the way,' he said. «But pretty soon they'll be dead MiBs.» He stalked purposefully toward the door. He paused when he realized that someone was tugging on his arm. He turned toward Ava. Tears streamed down her face. «Don't do it, Rath. They'll just kill you, too.» «Don't try to stop me, Queenie.» «I'll mindfreak you unless you stop.» Rath suddenly lashed out, his glowing fist connecting solidly with her jaw. She sank to the antiseptic white floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Not if you're unconscious, he thought. Aloud, he said, «I'll be back for you once this is all over.» Then he turned back toward the door. Max couldn't help but revel in the look of shock and surprise Scarface and the feral man were showing. «Guess it pays to have a good publicist,' he said. «Ready to wheel and deal now?» Scarface approached Max closely enough so that Max could tell he'd eaten something spicy for dinner. «Stand down, men,' he said to his agents, though he never took his eyes off Max. Despite the feral man's obvious reluctance, the armed goons soon opened their ranks, allowing Diane Evans and the Parkers to help the groggy Phillip Evans get to his feet. Valenti and Duff each took one of Michael's arms, raising him up, while Liz and Langley moved toward Max, flanking him. «Now let us go,' Max said, feeling absurdly like Charlton Heston in The Ten Commandments. «Just let us all walk out of here in peace, and we'll let the whole story die.» «Those reporters are going to be mighty curious,' said the feral man. «What do you intend to tell them?» «That depends completely on what you decide to do next,' Max said. He turned to Scarface. «So how about it?» The scar-faced man studied Max silently for a lengthy interval. Finally, he said, «You win this battle, Mr. Evans. But never forget that we'll make your families disappear permanently if our friends in the fourth estate ever report so much as a word about the Special Unit.» Max nodded, hyperaware that everyone's eyes those of friend and foe alike were upon him. He felt a rush of relief as he realized that Langley's brain-blast might not prove necessary. «I'll settle for that. For now.» Max looked at Liz. Can I trust these guys to keep their word? He seemed to be speaking to her telepathically no doubt because of Kyle's third-party psi-talent. What's to stop