With a groan that sounded not unlike a Hollywood sound effect, the floor imploded downward, cracking the plaster-and-cinder-block walls that bounded the corridor, and sending a huge cloud of gray dust everywhere that wasn't blocked by Michaels force field. The agents on the other side of the now-collapsed floor cursed, pinwheeling their arms to avoid falling onto the lower level. Max smiled grimly when he saw that their gyrations couldn't prevent most of them from tumbling away into the dust cloud. He knew they'd be hurt by the fall, but they would survive.
"Nice one!" Michael exclaimed, as he allowed the force field to collapse, then turned to follow Max and Isabel. The three of them ran together toward the exit door, and Max was pleased to see that the stairway opened onto the mall's parking garage. Even more luckily, they were on the same level where they'd parked the van.
"Which way to the van?" Michael asked. Kyle and Liz were already out of sight.
"That way," Isabel said, pointing. "I remember passing that blue Jaguar on our way in. “
As they ran, they heard a revving engine and the echoing squeal of tires. The VW Microbus they had gotten from Jesse back in Roswell turned the corner moments later, with Kyle behind the wheel.
With a screech of the brakes, the van stopped near them. Michael flung open the side door and jumped in, followed by Isabel. Max took one last look toward the exit before he hopped into the van, and was dismayed to see that at least one agent had apparently jumped the gap in the demolished floor. One agent with a cell phone.
This wasn't over yet.
Roswell, New Mexico Roswell Sheriff's Deputy Jim Valenti was eating a pastrami sandwich at his desk, taking a late lunch. Sheriff Hanson regularly rotated his deputies, and today was Valenti's day to work in the office. As was typical, not much was happening. Dina Heikenberry had called in a few minutes ago to run some plates on a speeding car, and Glenn Carver had reported some teens motocrossing on Mesaliko Indian Reservation property.
With a quick glance around the office, Valenti tapped the trackball mouse on his desk, waking up the computer screen. Deftly using a menu, he scrolled down to a folder called "Games." He highlighted the mah-jongg game Shanghai and double-clicked, starting the program. In the "Layout" menu, he chose "Boar," and a black field quickly began to fill with colorful tiles.
Valenti placed his cursor over the lower left corner, where nothing was visible, and clicked. Immediately, a popup window appeared, reporting an error alert of "47" and displaying an empty dialogue box. He typed his password, "oneofus," and it launched a specially built e-mail application that began searching for incoming communications.
Three months ago, he had pulled over Gerry Ailston for weaving on the road. Ailston had consented to a search of his vehicle, and the deputy had found a small bag of marijuana. Not enough for a felony, but certainly a misdemeanor. But it was the laptop in the back of the car that especially had caught Valentis attention, as well as the bumper stickers that were… as he later found out… the obscure sayings of computer geeks.
Ailston had been a friend of Alex Whitmans in high school, and Valenti knew he was more of a maladjusted geek than a drug dealer or threat to the Roswellian way of life. Kyle had even mentioned once or twice what a genius Ailston was with computers.
After appropriately scaring Ailston and bringing out a set of handcuffs, Valenti stared at him closely. "I'll tell you what, Gerry. Seeing as how I don't think you're going to be driving under the influence again anytime soon, I'm going to let this one slide… if you do me a favor. A big favor. “
Ailston shifted nervously, his reddened eyes glancing side to side like a pair of trapped animals. "What kind of a… favor? “
"I need some computer help. Some top-secret help." The kid grinned, seeming to relax. "Ohhh, sure. I just thought… I mean… sure, I'll do any computer work you want. “
True to his word, Ailston had done so. Valenti knew he was being watched by the feds, so any contact he had with the cyber-talented teen was carried out very surreptitiously. Gerry had shown him some extremely neat computer tricks, and had built… to the deputy's exacting specifications… some customized applications for Internet access, text programs, and HTML coding. These applications enabled him to use the computers at work without anyone's knowledge. Valenti had the kid describe each step along the way, and even learned how to modify the programs himself.
Ailston had even… on Valenti's recommendation… been allowed to update the Web page for the Roswell Sheriffs Department. Nobody knew that Valenti's own page on the site was one portal, nor that the "Boar" configuration to Shanghai was another portal. Valenti had others, and only used the incoming portals for a week at a time. He knew the Special Unit… or whatever it was called… was keeping tabs on him, along with the Evans family, the Parkers, and Amy DeLuca. He wasn't certain that the computers at work were bugged, but he tried to be as careful as he could be regardless.
Now, the computer beeped at him and displayed three text e-mail files. He decrypted them, sent them to the printer, then tapped a couple of keys that re-encrypted the text messages. Anyone trying to recover them now without the encryption key would end up crashing the program for good.
As Valenti reached for the three printed pages, he chuckled to himself. I've been worried all this time about whether Kyle and I would develop alien powers the way Liz did ajter Max healed her. Maybe all this computer expertise is my new power.
He smiled as he looked at the three printouts. Each was an e-mail message… from Kyle, Maria, and Liz. A quick read told him that they were all okay. Good. Their parents will be happy to hear that. Now he would just have to wait until an appropriate time to start the delivery route. Dinner at the Crashdown with an extra-special tip might just be the ticket tonight.
He slipped the papers into a pile of his other paperwork, then grabbed his sandwich for another bite.
Kyle's all right, he thought, grinning again.
Cheyenne, Wyoming Liz watched Kyle spin the wheel, making the van lurch to the side and screech down a curving ramp. She attempted to keep her balance in the back, but she fell against the side wall, the still-unconscious Maria moving with her.
"Ow!" Liz exclaimed as she tried to steady herself. Everyone else who was conscious grabbed hold of whatever they could to stay steady.
"Sorry about that," Kyle yelled back. "But if we don't get out of here soon, we probably never will. “
"The last agent I just saw had a cell phone," Max said, pulling the back window blind aside so he could look out. "Keep an eye out in case we pick up a tail. “
"Got it," Isabel said, shifting in the front passengers seat.
Michael looked toward Liz and Maria. Liz could see that Michael's attention was torn between his urge to stand and fight and his need to get the girl he loved to safety.
"I think she'll be fine," Liz said, smoothing Maria's hair away from her closed eyes. "Her pulse is strong, and she's groaned a few times. Maybe she'll be coming around soon. “
"Good," Michael said. He looked vulnerable for a moment, a side that most of them rarely ever saw. Then, setting his jaw with grim determination, he moved to the back of the van, where he crouched beside Max.
"Hold on, everybody!" Kyle yelled. Moments later, the van turned sharply again, tires screaming.
"They're blocking the exit!" Isabel said, pointing straight ahead. Liz could only wonder what obstacle fate had dropped into their path this time.
"We've got a car on our tail too," Max said.
"Ever see that Blues Brothers movie?" Kyle asked as the van continued toward the waiting cars. "Maybe I should take a detour through the mall. “