I left Ange's house after we sent out the email about the VampMob plan. We each sent about two hundred invites.

It was late when I got home, so Mom and Dad were in bed. In my room, I took care to pack my vampire outfit, an extra pair of boxers, the condoms Ange gave me, and deodorant. I made a mental note to stop by the ATM tomorrow morning on the way to the Civic Center.

I grabbed my Xbox and lay on my bed, knowing I had to fall asleep because I'd be getting up at 4a.m., but I couldn't. I was hitting up the usual sites, chatting with some Xnetters, when I saw it.

It was an email, a new message, even though I had checked it after sending the VampMob invites. It was from Masha. It contained only a picture and this warning: I thought you should know. Ange is a spy!

It was a picture of Ange, my Ange, clearly talking to severe-haircut lady from the DHS. I zoomed in on the picture. Ange was leaning against a stucco building; it appeared to be outside her school. I looked away, shaking my head in disbelief as to what I was seeing. I looked back, to be sure: Ange was leaning, not cowering back into the wall, and she was handing a slip of paper to my nemesis.

Immediately, my mind started going in a thousand directions. What had Ange said to DHS? Why hadn't she told me about it? How had sever-haircut lady found Ange, and her school? What the hell was on that slip of paper?

I wanted to reply to the email, find out more: who they were, how they got this picture, and whether they took it. Instead, I sent an email to Ange, explaining that plans with our ally, Masha, had changed. I included a note that I was BCC'ing Masha in so that everyone knew we were all on the same page.

Tomorrow's plans have changed. Masha thinks DHS may be on to us. No red hat.

Instead, Masha will look for us in yellow sashes. I've got two from my karate days.

We will meet at Founders' Statue.

If Ange was a spy, she'd know I was on to her and not show up. If Ange wasn't, then we'd still be safe; I'd still take my red cap so that I could quickly put it on so the real Masha could find us.

I set my Xnet on my desk and turned off the lights. I couldn't sleep, and 4a.m. came too early. When I dragged myself out of bed and over to my Xnet, I was hoping for about one hundred-fifty replies. There were four hundred. Four hundred. Everyone had replied. This was going to be huge. I only hoped that it went as planned, and that the email from the night before was a jealous Xnetter, jammer-wanna-be who was trying to scare M1k3y.

I dressed except for my cape, grabbed my backpack and verified that the location email was set to go out at 7a.m. On my way to the BART I stopped at an ATM and withdrew 320 in twenties, rubber banded them into a roll, and tucked it into my pants' thigh pocket. As I stepped onto the BART, dressed in my vamp-goth, the three-piece-suit businessmen quickly looked away from me. I set my pack down, took out my cape and tied it around my neck, and slid the pack on underneath my cape. When the BART doors opened at the Civic Center stop, I took a deep breath and stepped out. This was going to be bigger than I could imagine.