Terudom

by Absolute Elsewhere

Mike Weston and Max Hardy are assigned to a top secret task force code named Terudom, for Terrorist Unknown Domestic. It's mission: track down a deadly assassin. But the killer they are hunting is none other than Ryan Hardy, who is waging a war in the shadows against Eliza and her serial killer organization. And now Eliza has set a deadly trap for Mike and Max

14. Full Ryan

Disclaimer: It's fanfic, meaning I don't own anything or make any money off of it. It's a labor of love. Please don't sue me.

This story is rated M. Apart from some language, there's nothing here that wouldn't pass muster on an episode of The Following. If you're old enough to watch the Following, you're old enough to read this. However, it is The Following, so bad things can happen. Expect possible violence, dark themes, angst, and a certain amount of general awfulness. No serial killers, FBI agents, or small furry animals were harmed in the making of this fanfic. And don't try anything you read here at home.

Chapter 14 - Full Ryan

Gwen fumbled with the infant seat in the back of Jim Wolozsyn's Explorer. . Stress had turned her fingers into flippers. She lifted the seat, with Ryan Junior still inside while Jim lifted the back door of the Explorer and removed the bag that he had allowed Gwen to hastily pack before leaving her apartment. They were parked in front of Jim's apartment building for long enough to unload, and then Jim would have to move the Explorer into a nearby parking deck. Jim, bag in hand, hustled Gwen inside and into an elevator. His apartment was on the third floor.

When they were in the elevator, Gwen asked "Did Max say what this is about?"

"She said that it was on account of something she was working on, but she didn't give any details. Something she's doing that's classified. She asked me to take you in for a couple of days. Now when we get inside my apartment, I'll lock you in, and then go move my vehicle. Do not, repeat, do not open the door for anyone until I get back. There's a bag in the living room that Max gave me full of diapers, baby formula, stuff like that. You won't need to go out. Do not answer or use the phone. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Gwen nodded. "But if she thought I needed protection, why didn't she go to the FBI?"

Jim looked at her uneasily. "I'm sure she had her reasons," he replied.

"You worked with her before?"

"Yes," Jim said. "When she was in the NYPD."

"Oh my God. She doesn't know who in the Bureau to trust."

"Relax," Jim replied. " You're in good hands. I live alone. I'll call in sick tomorrow. Max and I go way back, and I trust her. . I don't know who these people are, but if she and Mike are going after them, well, I know who my money's on."

II

Mike paid the cabbie, got out of the taxi he had taken after leaving FBI headquarters and walked towards the entrance to a mall. Galen had not warned him against leaving town, but he was sure the Bureau had eyes on him, and if he withdrew a large sum of cash from his checking account, he was pretty sure he'd be arrested and brought in for questioning. Nevertheless, his first stop was a teller machine where he withdrew $200. That much, he felt sure, wouldn't trigger alarm bells at the Bureau, but it would give him a little badly needed walking around money.

He was sure they'd have put a GPS tracker on his car. So he'd need money for cabs and public transit, at least for the moment. He wanted to call Max on one of his burners, but he wanted to do so from a place with enough ambient noise to defeat a parabolic mike. He had to get to Max somehow, but first he had to find a way to elude the prying eyes of the Bureau, and perhaps the Organization as well.

Inside, the mall was warm, crowded, and loud. Mike made his way to a fountain surrounded by benches, and sat down. The sound of the water combined with the voices of the shoppers, and the background music would give him some protection from eavesdropping. He took out a burner and called the number Ryan had given him.

"Hello?" said Max, warily.

"Hey, it's me", he said. "I thought I'd call and talk for a while. I've had a pretty busy day so far. I got hauled in for questioning. I got suspended. And I found out that the woman I love had a murder weapon planted in her car, has an offshore bank account worth two and a half million dollars and is now the object of a nationwide manhunt. So how was your morning?"

"Two point five mill? Damn. They thought Gavin Leach was only worth forty thousand. They're paying top dollar for me. I rock. Give me the number of a burner. I'll call Ryan, and have him pick you up."

"Nice to see you've kept your sense of humor," Mike said. " Ryan needs to be picking you up. In case you haven't noticed, you're in deep kimchi."

"Your kimchi is deeper than my kimchi," Max replied. "Eliza doesn't know where I am, but she knows exactly where you are. They've probably had eyes on you since you left Federal Plaza. Eliza wants a hostage. The reason I got framed and you didn't is that you were in the hospital when Ryan went in the water. That's why Eliza hasn't made a move on you yet. She'd be admitting I was set up. But she didn't get me. So her next move will be to try to snatch Gwen, if she hasn't tried already. When that doesn't work, she'll be mad enough to come after you regardless. So we have to get you some place safe. That's why Ryan is going to pick you up. Stay visible, and don't go back to the apartment."

"Where did you stash Gwen?" he asked.

"With Jim Woloszyn. His wife died of cancer about a year and a half ago. They had no children. He's going to put Gwen up for a couple of days."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "You didn't believe me about Ryan. I was afraid you wouldn't believe me about this. And I was afraid I might be wrong, and...I know I should have said something. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," he said. "You were right. But we have to get you someplace safe, too. Then we can regroup and plan our next move."

"I've already planned my next move," she said. "I'm meeting Coleman."

"You can't do that."

"I have to," she replied. "I don't know how long it will take Ryan to get to you, and we're on the clock. I'm not losing a minute."

"Listen to me," Mike said, anger in his voice for the first time. "You were right about Ryan, and I was wrong. I should have listened. You've been right all along. But you're making a mistake now. You're doing exactly what Eliza would want you to do. I know you're worried about Gwen and Ryan Junior. I know you want payback. I know you think that somehow you should have kept me from getting stabbed. But Coleman is working with others. Maybe more of those cultists, maybe Theo, and he's got every reason to kill you. You're walking into a trap."

"Whatever I'm walking into, it's with both eyes open. I love you. And I want this to be over, so we can start that family."

"I love you too," he said. "But you have to be alive to start a family"

"I will be, I promise. I'll have eyes in the back of my head. And I'll come back safe. Because I know who I have to come back to."

He recognized the words he'd spoken to her. It was only a week ago, but it seemed like a year. They'd probably given her as little reassurance then as they gave him now. He sat silently for a few seconds, imagining everything that could go wrong, knowing that she would not turn back no matter what he said. "Are you still there?" she asked.

"Yeah. Give me Jim's phone number, so I can reach him. "

She read off a number. "Tell him you're from Singleton Security. I'll see you soon. You're the love of my life. "

"And you're the love of mine. Call me as soon as this meeting is over. Ryan and I will come get you."

"I will. Bye."

She broke the connection. "I guess you went full Ryan after all," he said quietly. He sat there, feeling numb and helpless. The last time he had felt like this was when he had seen her wheeled into the ER after a savage beating at Daisy Locke's hands. It had hit him, with the force of a punch to the gut, exactly what it would mean if she didn't make it. He resisted the urge to slam the burner in his hand to the floor. Hold it together. For her.. He thought about what she'd said in North Carolina. There's no calling for backup now. There's no backup to call for. We're it. So maintain. Because when she calls, there won't be anyone else. You're it.

He went to find a trash can to get rid of the burner.

III

Derek had no office, and would have refused one had it been offered to him. But there was a corner of the equipment storage room at Fairfax where he had a locker, and a cheap particle board desk with a computer to which he alone had the password. In the locker was some personal gear, including a cleaning kit for his pistol, spare mags, holsters, and some personal effects. A small portable refrigerator (Padlocked) contained a bag of coffee beans, half and half, and a supply of diet soda. There was also a radio controlled rat with glowing red eyes that ran along the floor on wheels, it's body made of dark brown hard plastic, and life sized. The rat and its remote control unit normally sat on the desk on the rare occasions when Derek worked there. It made occasional runs around the room and up the hall. Recently he had bought a slice of fake pizza that was actually a catnip toy, and it sat next to the rat.

So it wasn't exactly an office, with its shelves of electronic gear, safes, toolkits, and a couple of workbenches. But this corner was, if not Derek's office, at least his stuff and his space, and he was territorial.

At the moment, Derek was in his territory, reading over the crime scene reports from North Carolina. Apparently Eliza had put in a call to Galen. What she had said he did not know, but he could imagine. The reports were downloaded to his computer, and, at the moment, he was reading about the murder house that Weston and Hardy had found. Derek now realized that Wayne, the guy who drove the Land Rover, hadn't expired right away. Shit. He should have put a couple of insurance rounds into the guy, but he had been in a hurry.

Looking over the reports, he thought he had an advantage over Weston and Hardy. They didn't know about Theo. These guys were working with Theo, and they had a lot of money. Which meant Theo had a lot of money. Where was he getting it? Theo was a supremely gifted hacker, and could hack for whoever was willing to pay him. The Organization had paid him for Opticon Scintil, but he hadn't known who the job was really for. Or had he? Assume Theo was behind the Shiny attacks on the Organization. How was there money in that.? What purpose did they serve? No one knew how the Shiny worm got in at RCS. Theo could have cracked the system from outside, or someone could have carried the worm in on a memory stick. Which would mean someone at RCS was working for Theo.

His mind wandered for a moment to the stolen flash drive. If Ryan Hardy had it, he wouldn't be able to read it. He'd need someone with serious computer skills to break the encryption. He'd most likely take it to his niece. Who might already have it, for all he knew. Eliza had planned to turn her over to Milani for interrogation, but that plan was on hold since Max had pulled that disappearing act at the gym. Derek was glad he wasn't Galen, making excuses and apologies to Eliza.

His monitor showed an inventory of everything found at the murder house, and at the abandoned mill nearby. He scanned down the list. Surgical instruments, assorted edged weapons and power tools, a bunch of books about the occult...nothing that gave him much of an indication of what these people were doing working with Theo. He scrolled to the back page of the inventory, and began reading over the list of the personal effects that had been found on the men he'd killed. As he carefully checked the list, Derek realized that he'd found what he was looking for.

IV

Mike decided to stay put while waiting for Ryan's call. He wasn't sure how long that would take, but the noise and the crowds would still protect him from eavesdropping. If Ryan failed to call in a reasonable time, the multiple exits would give him some chance of ditching whatever surveillance there might be. He window shopped, and stopped in the food court for a steak and cheese sandwich and fries. He swallowed it whole, never tasting it. He felt guilty about sitting in the food court eating while Max was alone, hunted, and without backup. That Max had chosen this instead of doing the sensible thing and linking up with Ryan didn't help. She had once said something about him having a hard head. Takes one to know one, he thought sourly. He alternated between cursing her stubbornness and worrying himself sick. Worry was winning by a nose when one of his burners buzzed for his attention.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah, it's me. Max called. She refused to tell me where she was."

"She wouldn't tell me either," Mike said. "Is she on a suicide mission?"

"Let's hope not. Can you be in Hoboken in two hours?"

"Yeah"

"You got something to write with?"

"Yeah," Mike replied. He began digging a small memo book and a Skilcraft pen out of his jacket.

"Good. Plan to ditch any vehicle you take. There's a music store called Canfield Music at 1216 Welles. Go there. When you get there, look at some guitars or whatever, , and then call a cab. When the cab gets there, call me at 336-881-7429, and tell me you're leaving. Then tell the cabbie to take you the Washburn building at 517 Stewart. He'll take you down Welles. You stay on the phone, and keep a lookout. I'll be in a dark blue Nissan Altima coming the opposite direction. You'll suddenly change your mind, pay the cabbie, and bail. Get in the Altima. Got all that?"

"Yeah"

"Get moving"

V

Max had been to the Globe Studio Apartments before, but never as a guest. Her past visits had been as a cop in the NYPD. She had been called there for a wide assortment of complaints, including muggings, a stabbing, and a dead hooker who had been garotted on the third floor. That case was still unsolved. Parts of the Lower East Side were gentrifying, but gentrification hadn't made down here yet. She wasn't sure what it would take to get this area ready for upscale, but carpet bombing might be a start.

The place was New York the way it was supposed to look in old movies, brick, five stories, with fire escapes and window air conditioners visible on the front. It was picturesque in photographs. In real life it was dirty, run down, and infested with rats, cockroaches, and predators of the two legged variety. The clientele ranged from people checking in for a few hours without baggage to foreign students without much money who needed a cheap place to stay and realized they'd made a mistake.

She'd chosen this place for the meeting since she wouldn't need a credit card to check in. This would take a sizable chunk of her cash, but using her plastic would be broadcasting her location. Plus she knew the area reasonably well. She had to meet Coleman on ground of her choosing.

Obviously she hadn't chosen this ground for safety or sanitation. The queen sized bed had one pillow, and was covered with a thin purple blanket with holes in it. The paint was peeling off the walls. There was a dead cockroach on the floor of the tiny kitchen, and Max had no doubt that there were plenty of live ones as well. The room was on the back of the building on the third floor, and the narrow window looked out on a vacant lot strewn with junk. A couple of large crates probably sheltered homeless people. It wasn't much, she reflected, but at least she was in out of the cold for a while.

She had left the door unlocked. It was flimsy, and could be kicked in easily. She didn't intend to be standing just on the other side of it when she said "Come in". You can shoot through a door. As Coleman entered, the door would swing to his right. There would be a small closet immediately to his left. She has closed the closet door. Once he got past the front door, he would have the tiny kitchen to his right, and the living room ahead, She would stand in the living room, just around the corner after the kitchen, gun in hand. Once Coleman entered, she'd have that corner for cover, and he'd be fully exposed in the entryway, too far away to grab for her gun.

There was a knock at the door. "Who's there?" she asked.

"Howard Phillips."

She drew the Glock 19 from her shoulder holster, and took position around the corner from the kitchen, covering the door.

"Come in".

Coleman opened the door, fast and all the way. Perhaps he naively hoped Max would be waiting behind it, and he could hit her with the door and throw her off balance. Instead he stood there, his attention riveted on Max's gun, his right hand in his coat pocket.

"I want to see your hands," she said.

Coleman slowly withdrew his hand from his pocket, and moved his hands away from his sides.

"Close the door," she said. He pushed the door with his right hand, and it closed behind him.

"Step forward," said Max. "Stand in the middle of this room"

Coleman stepped forward, cautiously. "I thought we were going to talk," he said, plaintively.

"We will," Max replied. "After I make sure you're not armed.. OK, stop," she said, when Coleman reached the center of the room. "Turn around, put your hands behind your head, lock your fingers together, and spread your legs."

"Am I under arrest?" he asked, as he complied.

She made no reply. Instead, she reholstered her Glock, and walked up behind him, on his right side. With her left hand, she reached up, and grasped his interlaced fingers. With her left knee, she pushed into the back of his right knee, bending his leg forward, and she pulled back on his hands, bending him backwards. Her knee remained pressed into the back of his. She wasn't holding him up, but bent as he was, he could not kick at her, or strike with his hands. The only part of his body he could hit her with was his right elbow, and she rested the back of her head on his left arm to prevent that.

She began frisking him, starting with his front. She found a phone in his inside coat pocket and tossed it onto the couch. The pocket where he had kept his hand yielded up a zippered plastic bag with a wadded up cloth inside. She suspected chloroform. She tossed it onto the floor . She began checking around his waistband, and pulled out a 9mm pistol, a Ruger LC9. "I guess the IT business has gotten rough," she commented.

"That's for protection," He said.

"Yeah, right. I'll keep you safe, Coleman. The whole time you're here." She tossed the gun away, and continued her search. She moved her right leg farther out, and bent down to check his right leg. As she did, she bent him further back by pressing forward with her knee, and pulling harder on his hands. She checked his right leg carefully, and then stood back up. "Don't move," she said.

She moved farther back, and moved up on his left side, grasping his hands with her right hand this time, and repeating the procedure. Then she shifted her right hand, and moved her knee back out of the hollow of his. She pressed her right elbow into his spine, and pulled back, keeping him bent. She planned to pat down his lower back, but at that moment, he tried to spin towards her, turning to his left. She turned with him, pulling hard on his hands and pushing her elbow into his spine. With her left hand, she grasped his left elbow and pushed down hard.

Coleman was now hopelessly off balance, and unable to recover. His spin to the left became a fall. Max let him go, stepped back, and drew her Glock. Coleman hit the floor hard. . He rolled over, and found himself looking up at the muzzle of Max's Glock 19.

"Try that again," she said, "and I'll kill you. That's your first, your last, and your only warning. Roll over. Face down on the floor, and spread 'em."

When he was spread eagled on the floor, she patted down his lower back, finding a fixed blade knife in a plastic sheath. The blade was six inches long with a black oxide coating, and saw toothed near the hilt. "More protection?" she asked.

When he did not answer, the said "Get up. Sit in that chair over there." She pointed at a kitchen chair with no arms that she had placed in the corner of the room. Once he had done so, she sat on the couch facing him.

"So tell me about Theo," she said.

"Who's Theo?" he asked.

Max studied him for a moment. "You know, Coleman, there was a time when I would have read you your rights. Asked if you wanted a lawyer. Seen to it that you got your phone call. But not today. That bitch has framed me, she has ripped my family apart, she has threatened everyone I love. And you're double crossing her. I know this because I've got your number right here in Wayne Jarrett's phone. You were the last person he called while he was bleeding to death. So either you talk to me, or you talk to Eliza, but talk you will. I 've seen what she does to make people talk. I've got my back to the wall, so either you help me out, or I walk out of here and feed your sorry ass to her in bite sized chunks."

Coleman looked helplessly around the room, as it searching for an exit that did not exist. "He'll kill me," he said.

"Or Eliza will," Max replied. "Or maybe, just maybe, you give me something I can use. And you get witness protection."

"There is no witness protection," he said, angrily. " Not from these people. You have no idea of their reach."

"The hell I don't. I know about Eliza, about the Organization, about that PMC she runs. I know they have people inside the Bureau. But what I don't know is your part in this. Or why you're working with Theo. What's he after?"

"Theo recruited me," Coleman said. "To help him kill Eliza. He wants revenge."

"Why you?"

"Because," said Coleman, "I'm a Strauss student. Like Theo. And Eliza."

VI

Canfield Music was located in a row of shops in Hoboken's historic downtown. Mike stood by the window, looking out for the cab he had summoned, and occasionally pretending interest in a rosewood Stratocaster. Ryan hadn't given him any details of what he had in mind, but there had to be more to it than just reversing direction by changing cars. That would throw off a private detective hired to track a cheating spouse, but the Bureau was a tougher proposition. Still, he'd trust that Ryan had something up his sleeve.

He saw the cab pulling up outside. As he stepped out into the cold, he reached for a burner and called Ryan. "I'm on the move," Mike said, when Ryan picked up.

"Good, stay on the line. Talk to me like you're having a conversation. When you cross Clinton St say that You'll be glad to be home."

"Got it."

Mike got in the cab. "The Washburn building on Stewart," he said to the driver, a slender black man in a box style knit hat.

As the cab began to move, Mike kept his eyes forward, looking for Ryan's Altima, while keeping up a pretend conversation. "But I gotta tell ya," he said, "it's been just one hell of a trip so far. And it's amazing the people you run into, that you haven't seen for a while. And you were sure you'd never see them again, but there they are."

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing all right. ," Ryan agreed. "Keep focus. We'll trip down memory lane later."

Mike kept up a running banter about how insecure jobs were these days and what the world was coming to. He was about to start a spiel about always being the last one to be told what the hell was going on, when he saw the sign for Clinton Street. "It sure will be good to be home,"he said.

"OK," Ryan replied. "The next light at the very latest. Stay alert."

Mike could see a light up ahead. It was green, but it was far enough away that it probably wouldn't be by the time they got there. He stopped talking, and pretended to listen. As they approached the light, he could see it turn yellow. A Toyota RAV 4 made it through the yellow light, just in time, and tailgating behind it, he could see a blue Nissan Altima. "Bail, now," said Ryan.

Mike broke the connection. "Change of plans, buddy," he said to the driver. "I'm getting out here." He handed the cabbie a couple of twenties. "Keep it."

He got out, leaving behind a driver who was too happy about the extravagant tip to complain about having driven all this way for a small fare. He jaywalked cross the two lane road, so that he would be on the passenger side of the approaching Altima. Ryan came to a stop. As soon as Mike was in and had the door closed, Ryan took off like a shot. "It's good to see you," Mike said.

"Likewise. Hold on to your ass."

Ryan made an illegal left turn on red, to the sound of horns from irritated drivers. He headed up a four lane road, and turned left again. They were long past the historic district of Hoboken, and were now surrounded by tall office buildings. "You're going to have a hard time losing anyone," Mike observed, "if you get pulled over for driving like a maniac."

"I know what I'm doing," Ryan replied. "Has Max called?"

"Not since she said she was meeting Coleman. Who might just be working with Theo."

"WHAT?!" Ryan turned to look at Mike.

"Watch it!" Mike exclaimed, pointing at a panel truck in front of them that was slowing down.

"I'll explain later," Mike said, "just get us out of here."

Ahead was a parking deck on the right, and just beyond it, a J C Penney. Ryan turned right, onto the road between them, and then right again into the parking deck. He drove to level three, where there were a number of empty spaces, and parked within a dozen spaces of a stairwell. "Out," he said. "Head down those stairs."

Mike followed him to the stairwell, and they walked briskly down to level two, where Ryan led them across the deck, towards an F150 parked in a space along the outer wall of the parking deck. Across the way was a Macy's. "Get in," he said. "And stay down."

Mike flattened himself against the seat as best he could. He felt the F150 head downslope towards the street, then take a right turn. After about five minutes, Ryan said "OK, you can sit up. We're headed for the safe house." Mike sat up and looked around. They were headed towards the Holland Tunnel and Manhattan. "We left the deck in a different vehicle," Ryan said, "with only one guy in it."

"Where did you get the Altima?" Mike asked.

"I stole it," said Ryan. When Mike looked at him in open mouthed astonishment at having been made an accessory to grand theft auto, Ryan grinned and said "Welcome to the Dark Side, my young apprentice."

Mike stared ahead. I guess we're all going full Ryan now.

VII

"We should have cut off the bastard's head," said Max, " driven a stake through his heart, buried him at a crossroads at midnight, and pissed on his grave. How many of you are there, anyway?"

'I don't know," Coleman replied. "Theo might know, but I don't."

"How would Theo know? And how did he know about you? How did he contact you?"

"Strauss kept a master list of his students. It was in a coded book. He gave it to a paralegal named Juliana Barnes. . Theo broke into her office and took it after she was killed. He told me about it. It was in code, but somehow or other he broke it. It led him to Eliza. He wanted new identities for him and his sister. He offered to deliver Ryan Hardy to her in exchange. But she double crossed him somehow. Anyway, he went off that bridge. The God damn bullet ricocheted off his skull. It's like nothing can kill this guy. He carjacked someone, and got out of the area."

"After that," Coleman continued, "Penney was dead, and he totally lost his shit. He chats with her on the computer. I've seen it. Anyway, he contacted me."

"How?" she asked.

"I came home from work one evening, and he was in my apartment. And he told me that I could help him, or he'd kill me. You see, I was one of Strauss' last students. Not the last, you understand, but I was with him after Eliza. I left about three months before Ryan Hardy arrested him. Theo wanted someone who had been with Strauss after Eliza, just in case she had information about his previous students. And he wanted someone who knew computers. I have a degree in computer science from Winslow University."

"Theo recruited you to infiltrate RCS," said Max. " What do they do for the Organization?"

"They do personnel management software for the government. And that software comes bundled with the spyware already in it. It's called Opticon Scintil. We can compromise anyone's records. People in the FBI, CIA, or any other alphabet soup agency you care to name. We can access their records, and if they have anything to hide, we can get to them. That's why we have moles everywhere. It was Theo who wrote the program."

"Theo was in the Organization?" she asked, astonishment in her voice.

"No. They came to him. Jason Rickard approached him. Back while Strauss was still operating. See, Theo did hacking jobs for money. Having an outside source of income meant that he could cover any incidental expenses that he ran up while killing, and his wife would never have to know. His hacking income helped conceal his hunting and killing."

"How did they know about him? Were they just looking for a black hat hacker, or did Rickard know he was a student?"

"I don't know," Coleman answered. "Theo thought that Eliza might have been on to him, and knew he was a Strauss student even before he ever heard of her. He wasn't sure, but thought maybe she had accessed Strauss' records somehow. That's why he wanted a student who was with Strauss after Eliza."

"I can't believe Strauss would write all of that down in one place," Max said

"It was so that Juliana could contact his students, and use them to help discredit the government's case."

"He could have given her that information verbally," Max replied. "There was no reason to risk writing it all down. Unless...You say Theo wanted a fellow student who knew computers?"

"Theo broke the encryption on Eliza's phone. He got her talking to the Chairman"

"Who's that?" she asked.

"The head of the Organization. Theo got a recording of him talking to Eliza. He used it to keep Eliza from killing him. So he figured she'd be looking to up their data security. So he basically used his hacking skills to...enhance my qualifications. I got a job doing IT for that military contracting company Eliza runs. Later, she got me moved over to RCS."

"Do you know the Chairman's name?"

"No, but Theo does."

"Change of topic," she said. "Tell me about Wayne Jarrett. And those people."

"My followers," Coleman replied, as if he were proud of the fact. "I started recruiting them as soon as I left Dr Strauss. They had an interest in the occult. So do I. It's how I drew them to me."

Max looked at Coleman with evident disgust. "They moved around with Theo?"

"Sometimes. Not always. They helped Theo at times."

"Theo Noble doesn't need any help", she said emphatically.

"As a serial killer, no. But when he kills it's a compulsion. A need. It's for pleasure. This was business."

"What business?," she asked.

"Theo wanted me inside the Organization so that I could help him break into their data systems. They don't just access personnel records. The Chairman, whoever he is, is someone near the top of the national security and intelligence heap. The whole Organization works like an intelligence agency. It operates through front companies like RCS, or that military contractor that Eliza runs. And there's others. The front companies provide cover, and a base of operations. But also, they're wired into everything. They see all kinds of classified stuff, and they use it. They can access daily intelligence briefings, NOC* lists, special access programs, all kinds of stuff. The Chairman has above Top Secret clearance. Eliza has clearance too, since her goons provide security for intelligence black sites, plus all kinds of VIPS. Theo can get that stuff and sell it."

"Theo is selling information?" she asked. "That's one hell of a career change. Who does he sell it to?"

"I don't know, " Coleman replied. "Whoever will pay. Highest bidder. Hell, maybe he puts it up on eBay. Hey, everybody's gotta eat. He can't hold down a regular job anymore since he was exposed. He lives by piggybacking off the Organizations access to government secrets. I got him access to a lot of the intel that the Organization sees. He gave me a flash drive to plug in. By the way, he gave one to an FBI agent. A guy named Reyes. So Theo is deep in the FBI computers too. Between Theo and Eliza, you guys are totally transparent. Theo pays me. And in turn, I support my followers. And they help Theo out. Couriers, security, or they just keep a lookout. They're useful."

"You started recruiting followers as soon as you left Strauss," she said. It was not a question.

"Yes. I had my own vision, and I wanted to pursue it. I wanted to bring a kind of enlightenment. To teach."

"Is that what you want to be when you grow up?" she asked. "The Son of Strauss?" She shook her head sadly. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

"Strauss just made killers," Coleman said. "I'm making a fortune. And I'm making history. The Organization learned how to infiltrate into the government and use it for their own purposes. Theo and I learned how to infiltrate the Organization."

Max wanted to tell Coleman that Theo had figured this out, not him, that Theo was just using him, and he was probably dead when Theo was done with him. But Coleman was proud of himself, she realized, and ready to claim bragging rights about what a clever bastard he'd been. So she'd let him.

"A bunch of your followers ended up dead in North Carolina," said Max. "Who did that? "

"There's this guy who works for the Organization. Derek. He's a hit man. He came to see Theo. He wanted to make some sort of a deal. Theo had my followers staking out places where he used public access wifi to hack into the Organization's computers. He thought Eliza might have locked his location. He had my followers take this guy. They were going to kill him, but the guy got loose. Wayne called me, asking for help. He wanted me to call Roger Gordon. Wayne was hurt bad. But I never could get Roger on the phone."

"Because Theo killed him," Max replied. " And his wife. Mike and I found the bodies."

Coleman stared at her, as if he were having trouble processing what he'd just been told.

"You said Theo was afraid Eliza might know where he was," Max said. . "How could she find that out?"

"Through his IP address, when he connected to an Organization computer. That's why he moved around a lot, and used public access wifi. Public libraries, park benches, coffee shops, wherever he liked to hang out. He could spoof an IP address, but spoofing isn't foolproof. Derek was the second one of Eliza's guys who came nosing around. Theo was afraid that Eliza might have tagged his location when he was connected to one of her computers. One of her guys showed up in Beaumont recently. Theo recognized him, since he had accessed the personnel records at ZR Security. This was maybe a couple of weeks ago. Theo pointed him out to Wayne and my followers killed him. They carved him up in that house in Judson County."

"One of Eliza's guys was dead in that house?"

"Yeah."

"So if Theo knew Eliza had her crosshairs on him, why the hell did he stay in Beaumont?" The question was directed more at herself than at Coleman, who sat in silence as if he didn't know himself. "Because Theo was in Beaumont to kill Ryan," said Max, seemingly distracted as she answered her own question. " Theo was going to make a move on Ryan, but Eliza made a move on him first."

She turned her attention back to Coleman. "Tell me about the Mr. Shiny worm," she said.

"Theo started using it on Organization front companies. Basically, he had back doors into any system he wanted to access by that point. My job was data security. So I made sure that everything was insecure. He was upping the pressure on Eliza. Sort of like he did with Ryan Hardy, where he would order stuff on his credit card or whatever. He was showing Eliza that he could get to her, and making her look bad. He wanted to make her sweat. The name was kind of a joke. He called it that because he knew that I regarded Lovecraft as an actual practicing occultist. Sometimes he calls me Mister Shiny, like that character who could assume different forms."

"He must be planning to come after Eliza, and soon," Max replied. "What's your part in that? How's he planning to kill her?"

"He hasn't told me, at least not yet. He's given me a patch for the security software that's supposed to defeat Shiny. I'm supposed to have developed it. What it actually does I have no idea."

"Why did you kill Jason Rickard?," she asked.

"I didn't! I had nothing to do with that !"

"So it's just a coincidence that he was killed using the same MO as those people in North Carolina?"

"I had nothing to do with that, " Coleman said emphatically. "I had no reason."

"Did Theo do it?"

"Theo was in Beaumont at the time, as far as I know. I called and asked him about it after it happened. I wondered why Rickard was killed at the same time RCS got hacked. He wouldn't tell me anything. I thought maybe he flew up here and killed Rickard without telling any of my followers. Maybe he did it to spook Eliza. I had no reason to do it. Why would I? I had a good thing going, and there was no reason to risk it by killing Rickard."

Max sat impassively, not answering.

"I had no reason!," Coleman repeated.

Max shook her head sadly. "You're in way over your head. Theo wants revenge. On Eliza. On Ryan. On the whole wide world for grievances that go back to the womb. He's using you and he's gonna kill you.

"'What Theo wants," Max continued, "is a new life. He's put together enough money to buy a new life, shiny and new. And he's going to be living in some nonextradition country with nice balmy weather, and you're going to end up in a shallow grave. Come downtown with me. The Bureau debriefs you, clears me, and you get out of this alive."

"No way," Coleman replied. "First, neither one of us would survive the trip. Second, in case you've forgotten, I'm a serial killer. Mafia guys get witness protection. Guys like me get lethal injection, or life in supermax."

"You're a flounder, Coleman. And you're trying to swim with the sharks. Get out of this now. It's just a question of who happens to you first. If it's me, I'll get you downtown in one piece. If it's Mike, you'll still make it downtown, but you'll fall down a few flights of stairs on the way. But if it's Theo, or Eliza, or Ryan for that matter, you'll never see downtown because they'll make dog meat out of you."

"No dice," Coleman said. "But here's what I'll do. I won't deal with any US Attorney. I'll deal with you, and with you only. I won't take a chance on ending up like Strauss or Joe Caroll. I'll get you a data dump. I'll give you a flash drive, with enough incriminating evidence to put Eliza away, and I disappear. After that, it's your problem."

Max saw no point in telling Coleman that she had a flash drive already, if she could break the encryption. But he wasn't going go with her voluntarily, and trying to bring him in against his will while she was a wanted fugitive was likely to end with her in lockup.

"Ok," she said. "You bring me something I can use. Proof of this spyware. Opticon...?"

"Scintil," he said

"Bring me a sample on a flash drive. Bring me some kind of classified material that the Organization has accessed. Bring me some kind of undeniable proof that the Organization exists. Call me on Wayne Jarrett's phone, I'm low on burners."

Coleman's phone, which was still sitting on the couch next to Max, began to buzz. She picked it up and looked at the screen. "Call from Derek," she said. "The Derek?"

"Yeah, and I better take it, or there'll be questions."

She walked over to Coleman and cautiously handed him the phone. "On speaker," she said. "Don't try anything."She sat back down on the couch, keeping herself out of his reach.

"Hi Derek," he said.

"Hey. Where are you?"

"Finishing up lunch," Coleman said.

"I'm at Fairfax. We've got server issues, and we need this shit up and running five minutes ago."

"I"ll be there as soon as I can.", Coleman said.

"Well make it sooner. The Boss Lady is on her way back."

"I'm on my way. See you soon.", he said. And hung up.

"What's Fairfax?" she asked.

"Fairfax International Forwarding. It's over in Elizabeth, near the waterfront. On the outside, it's a warehouse. On the inside, it's the Organization's main base in this area. It's a combination armory, motor pool, holding area for prisoners, stuff like that."

"All right," she said. "You better go. How long before you can get me that drive?"

"Seven this evening, after work."

"Ok," said Max. "Before you go, hand me your wallet." She held out her hand.

Coleman took his wallet out of his pants pocket and handed it over, a puzzled look on his face. "What are you doing?"

"Borrowing money. I'll pay you back when I get that drive. I can't use my plastic anymore, being a fugitive. I'm probably on the Bureau's Ten Most Wanted,"she said, grinning. She took out a thick wad of bills. "Whoa. The Organization pays good. I'm working the wrong side of the street." She put some of the bills back in Coleman's wallet, and pocketed the rest. "Here, " she said, handing the wallet back. "I left you enough for lunch and cab fare. It's like you said. Everybody's gotta eat."

"Can I have my stuff back?" Coleman asked, pointing at the weapons Max had taken off him.

"Oh hell no".

VII

Ryan's safe house in New York proved to be an apartment on the fourth floor of a six story apartment building in Inwood. It was one bedroom, but Ryan said that the couch was pretty comfortable. The bedroom closet had become an impromptu arms room, where Ryan had put his stolen weapons and ammo. "I'm impressed," Mike said, as he looked over Ryan's arsenal. "You keep this stuff here all the time?"

"No, I went shopping on the way to New York. I had to leave a lot of stuff behind when Eliza hit my safe house in North Carolina. That's why it took me so long to get here. I wanted to come prepared."

Mike walked to the living room, and stared out the window at another apartment building across the street that was exactly one story taller. Ryan followed him. "Relax," he said to Mike. "She'll call. It seems longer than it is."

Ryan sat down on the couch. "So you haven't actually seen or heard from Theo."

"No, but the timing is suspicious. They never found a body. The theory was that both bodies were trapped in a hydraulic ** and stayed there for a while. Then they floated downstream through an area that had already been dragged more than once. At least that's what the experts on the TV news said. I watched some of it on TV while I was in the hospital, but I really couldn't stand to watch very much. I guess in the end, it was easier for everyone to believe you were both dead. Because if you weren't...The truth can be hard to accept. That's something I've been learning the last few days."

Ryan gave a humorless smile. "It wasn't easy for me either."

Mike sat down on the other end of the couch. "The hell of it is, Max guessed early on. She thought you were alive, somewhere. That one day you'd be there. I thought she was having trouble coping. Well, she was, but not the way I thought. I wanted her to see someone. I may have made things worse. If I had listened then, maybe she wouldn't have kept things from me. And maybe I'd be with her now."

"Don't," Ryan said. "Don't beat yourself up. You did what you thought was best. You were in the hospital when it happened. If you had seen me that night... She must have looked back on that."

"Maybe being in the hospital gives me a whole new reason to beat myself up," said Mike.

"I don't understand."

"When you came to us, at the hotel that night, it got me thinking. Something I never told Max. I kept thinking about how different things might be if I hadn't been in the hospital. If I had just been there, maybe you wouldn't have done what you did."

Ryan sat, looking puzzled. "You told us that day, when they finally executed Joe, to look after each other. Well, we did. We stood by each other, every step of the way. And I believe what you said. That you would never have asked Max to leave me at a time like that. But we were a team. And I thought that if I hadn't been stabbed, you would have come to me. To us. And we would have gone after Eliza together. And we would have taken the whole Organization down. Because there was nothing we couldn't do as a team. Instead, I get nailed in that parking deck, and you end up going it alone."

"Your getting stabbed wasn't your fault," Ryan said. " Or Max's. Things happen. Even if you'd been well, I still wouldn't have told you. Or asked you for help. Not this time."

"I know," Mike replied. "So tell me this, and be honest. Let's just say Mark hadn't stabbed me. I'm there for you, but you go lone wolf anyway. Would you have gone because you had to, or because you wanted to?"

"Now wait a minute," Ryan said angrily. "I went to protect my family. I wanted to be with Gwen. With my son. I sacrificed everything for them. For Max. For you."

"I just think it was really hard to let go of Joe.," Mike replied. "You were drinking. You were having a hard time. Maybe you weren't seeing things as clearly as you think."

"I did what had to be done, " Ryan said. " And I'd do it again."

"And now here we are."

"You're saying it's my fault Max is out there?" Ryan asked, his voice rising.

"No. Max made her choices. And so did you. And so did I. And right or wrong, we can't change any of it. When we were a team, we would have died for each other. Now, if we don't stick together, that's exactly what we're gonna do. . Because they will pick us off one by one. We have to be a team again. So like the man said, this is where we hang together. Or we hang separately. All of us."

Ryan nodded slowly. "You're right," he said. "I think I might just need a little help with this one after all."

"A little?" Mike asked, grinning.

"Maybe more than a little," Ryan replied. "We'll give Max the good news when she calls."

"We will," said Mike. "You know, with everything that's been going on, I forgot to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"We're engaged."

Ryan stood, walked closer to Mike, and held out his hand. "Congratulations," he said. "When did this happen?"

"The night you came to the hotel," said Mike, as he shook Ryan's hand. "It was actually because of you. You said something about having a life when this was over, and it made me think. That we shouldn't wait. You once said the Universe owed us. So maybe it was time to start collecting. With interest."

"Sit down, Mike said, "I want to show you something. I don't know why the hell I didn't do this sooner."

As Ryan sat down next to Mike, Mike took a phone out of his jacket pocket. From a different pocket, he produced a SIM card. He talked as he put the SIM card back into the phone. "I'd actually been wanting to propose for a while. Really ever since Ryan junior was born. I was still on limited duty, and well, I kinda wanted to be a little healthier on our wedding night." He turned on the phone, and it began booting up. "I want to show you my favorite picture of Max. I took it at the hospital that day. This was the first time she ever held him." He handed the phone over to Ryan, who looked intently at the picture on the screen.

The picture was of Max, sitting by Gwen's bedside, with Ryan junior cradled in her arms. "She's beautiful in that picture," Mike said. "And it's like that every time she holds him. It's like her whole face lights up. "We're going to have kids of our own, eventually, and...Ryan? You OK?".

"Sorry," Ryan said, dabbing at his right eye with his hand. "Something in my eye."

"Yeah. I know how that is."

"Thanks," said Ryan, handing Mike the phone. "You better pull that SIM card back out, though. Remote access and all that."

Mike shut the phone down, and began removing the SIM card. "I don't know how we're gonna do it," he said. "But we gotta get you home."

A burner phone, one of Mike's, buzzed for attention. Mike picked it up off the end table. "Max? I'm putting you on speaker so Ryan can hear you."

VIII

Max paced the floor of her room at Globe Studio Apartments, waiting for Mike to pick up.

" I just had a heart to heart with Coleman," she said. " He's definitely working with Theo. Apparently Theo has pretty much hacked everybody. The Bureau, the Organization, he's plugged into everything. Tom Reyes apparently planted some sort of spyware on the Bureau's servers. And Theo wrote spyware for the Organization. They're all over the OPM** * database. That's how they recruit moles. This is even bigger than we thought. Coleman is promising to get me files from the Organization's computers so we can take Eliza down. He wants to meet this evening."

"Do you trust him?" Mike asked.

"No," she replied. "I'm pretty sure it's a setup. He's more afraid of Theo than Eliza. Personally, I think that's a mistake. I think Theo is headed for New York, and he'll be here by seven, which is when Coleman wants to meet."

"That's it, then," Ryan said. "We have to bring you in now. Where are you?"

"The Globe Studio Apartments on the Lower East Side."

"'We're on our way."

IX

Derek sat in his not quite office, the remote for his rat in hand, watching it run around the room. He had a few pages of printed documents scattered on his desk. He found reading printed material on a monitor disagreeable. He needed paper to really understand something he was reading. Tanke walked into the room carrying a bag of chips from the machine, which he placed on the desk. "Thanks," Derek said. He stopped the rat, tore open the bag, and started eating a couple of chips. Tanke stood by the desk, looking at the monitor, which showed a street map.

"Tanke," Derek said, "don't be looking over my shoulder when I'm working."

"You're not working," Tanke pointed out.

"Well, then don't be looking over my shoulder at whatever I have been, or am supposed to be working on. And don't be a smartass, either. Any or all of the above should be avoided."

"Sorry", Tanke said. He stepped back, and watched the rat, as Derek made it run under one of the work benches and, and then back out swiftly.

"Speaking of not working, you might want to look busy when the Boss Lady shows up. I don't think she's going to be in the best of moods, " Derek replied.

"I'm on standby," Tanke said, as though that explained everything.

"Stand by doesn't mean stand around," said Derek. "Put fresh batteries in those radios" He pointed at a shelf on the opposite wall.

"Why a rat?" Tanks asked, as he moved to comply.

"It's symbolic. The rat is a survivor. The rats will inherit the Earth after we nuke ourselves out, or choke to death in the waste products of our own technology. The rats will be the new master race, and the surviving humans will pay obeisance to their rat overlords. And rats get around. They can get into places where you least expect to find them. In spite of all your precautions, you look closely, and there's a rat.'

"You're acting even weirder than ususal," Tanke said.

Derek made no reply. He sent the rat out of the room, turned it to the right, and sent it down the hall. Then he worked the control stick to reverse direction and bring it back, but found, to his annoyance, that the rat did not appear. He played with the stick for few seconds, wondering what was wrong. The explanation became clear when Eliza appeared at the door, rat in hand, Stinnes and Kaminsky in tow.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?," she asked.

"Taking a break," Derek replied.

"It's good to see you keeping yourself amused," she said. 'Because I'd really hate to think of you sitting here bored, especially at a time like this."

"Your sarcasm is duly noted," Derek said, as he held out his hand for the rat. "We need to talk."

"Clear the room," she snapped. She handed the rat to Derek, who placed it back on his desk. Tanke, Stinnes, and Kaminsky all beat a hasty retreat.

"Well?" she said.

"You know," he began, "I used to wonder why it was that you didn't have me wasted last year, after that surveillance job. Remember that one? The hot FBI chick fresh out of Quantico? You wanted her daily routine, and the code to her alarm. I didn't know what the job was about at the time. I thought maybe you had the hots for her. Or maybe someone at the House put in a bid on her. And then I thought that maybe it was her uncle you had the hots for. Maybe this was some kind of needlessly complicated way into his life. Maybe you were going to comfort the grieving uncle after his niece got auctioned off. "

"And then one day I read in the news that her asshole boyfriend got a face full of acid, and the uncle was feeding the fish. And it turns out that the whole job was never reported to the Committee. Because the job was for good old Professor Higgins, aka Strauss, so that he could give it to Bonnie and Clyde. You would have never sent any of our people into an FBI agent's apartment on an unauthorized operation. And I thought to myself that I'd better be reviewing my escape plan about now, because you would definitely want to eliminate witnesses. But then nothing happened, and I realized that it was because I had to use a whole goddam surveillance team to do that job, and even you can't make that many people disappear with no questions asked."

"Are you finished now?" she asked, ice in her voice.

"Actually, I'm just getting started. So imagine my surprise when Sarah called this morning, and she wanted me to come over for a little tete a tete. And she asks me if you were the one who had Adrian offed. Because it turns out that somehow or other he got his hands on a copy of that report I put together on Max Hardy."

"She's dead, then."

"So here's a question for you," he said. "Why? Because you had fond memories of Strauss? Because he taught you to be the Duchess at the ball? What was in it for you?"

"For now," she said, "you'll just have to accept that I had my reasons."

"I'm not the Light Brigade," he said angrily. "Theirs was not to reason why, theirs was but to do and die. I had enough of that shit in the Company."

"Because Strauss threatened to expose the Organization if I didn't help him"

"Bullshit"

"He'd been to the house. He had a bracelet. He told Julianna where it was. She showed up at the house, and walked in on his ID bracelet."

"She would have never walked out of there," he replied. " She would have ended up as the evening's entertainment."

"I had no way of knowing what else he might have given her."

'Like what? A T shirt with a picture of the House on it? Do we sell souvenirs now? Do we have our own corporate logo? Make sure we copyright it if we do."

"I understand," she said." I know you're upset, you have every right to be. I involved you without telling you what it was about. I'm sorry."

"I just wonder how much of that it true," he muttered, thinking, as he did so, that very little of it was.

"Kaminsky told me what you said."

"About?"

"That you sold your soul. Is working for me so horrible? I worry about you Derek. And not just because I need you at your best right now. This self loathing you seem to have. It's corrosive. You didn't sell out, you were betrayed, by people who were never worthy of your loyalty. Have you ever been to the House?"

"No. I'm a little bit too down market."

"I want you to come with me next time. I think it would be good for you. You need to embrace what you are. And I think you need to...unwind."

"I know how I'd rather unwind," said Derek. "But it might be bad for employee morale if the staff heard the Boss Lady screaming my name."

"That's for later," she said with a wicked smile. "Work before play. We have to find Theo. And Ryan. And Max Hardy. God, I can't believe Galen screwed this up."

"Well, there's no progress on the Theo front. But Max Hardy is holed up in some dump on the Lower East Side. It's called the Globe Studio Apartments." he pointed at the map on his monitor.

"How do you know?"

"Because," Derek explained, " the night I planted that murder weapon, I found a bag in the trunk of her car. Being the nosey sort, I took a peek inside. Apparently Galen managed to make her suspicious, and she packed a bugout bag. Change of clothes, shades, watch cap, the whole nine yards. That's how she walked past those FBI goombahs this morning. So I took a page from your book, and stuck a tracker bug inside the insulated liner of the motorcycle jacket she's wearing. Just in case."

"And to think I once seriously considered having you killed."

"It would've been just one hell of a tragic waste."

"So all we have to do now," said Eliza, "is go pick her up"

"Pick her up? Are you insane? Let the Feebs**** do the heavy lifting. I thought the point of framing her was so that we wouldn't have to get our hands dirty."

"But this is perfect," Eliza replied. "She's already eluded them, and so she looks guilty. If they arrest her, then we have to arrange an order to get her moved, and there's a paper trail. This way, she disappears without a trace, and the FBI is left with questions that have no answers. So you go pick up Gwen Carter and her son. I'll take a team and grab Max."

"Don't do this," Derek said. "I know this has gotten personal with you, and that's a mistake. Your guys aren't amateurs, but neither is Max. She's armed, she's alerted, and if you try to take her on the move, then you could end up leaving a blood trail. With your blood. Blood is messier than paper."

"I can do this," said Eliza.

"She won't kill a cop. She won't kill a Fed. She will light you up in a heartbeat."

"You take a driver," Eliza said. "I'll take Stinnes and Kaminsky, and whoever else we have on call. You get Gwen Carter, and bring her here. Little Miss Hardy is mine."

Musical Interlude - Shadows On The Streets Of New York by Joe Bouchard

* Most Intelligence officers use what is called official cover. They pose as diplomats working out of a embassy, and have diplomatic immunity. In theory, they can't be arrested, but they still may be at risk from terrorists and some outlaw governments . NOC is short for Non Official Cover. NOCs don't pose as US government civil servants. They have no diplomatic immunity, and if exposed, are fair game. These are the people you see in the spy movies. Daily intelligence briefs are just what the name says. The Presidential Daily Intelligence Brief is the best known, but other people get them too. Special Access Programs are classified above Top Secret and carry the designation Top Secret SAP.

** A hydraulic is a type of current found at the base of waterfalls and dams, and it can be found around rocks and rapids as well. At the base of, say, a dam, the downward current carries you down and under water, and then you get pushed back up to surface behind the waterfall, then you go back under in the down current again. Pattern repeats until you drown. Even an Olympic class swimmer can't escape fighting against the current.

If you are trapped in a hydraulic, the best hope of escape is to swim perpendicular to the current, and try to get to the edge of it, and out. But if it's a man made hydraulic, say at the base of a dam, then even this chance of escape may not exist, since the dam goes all the way across the river.

I assumed that since no bodies were found, theories would have been advanced as to why not. (There would likely have been some nutball conspiracy theories advanced as well.) The talking heads would have speculated on the cable networks. Actually, most of what you see on the cable networks isn't really news, it's people speculating about the news, but that's neither here nor there.

***Office Of Personnel Management. The Chinese hack of the OPM database was the first time that Terudom was overtaken by real world events. At one time, I worried that the degree of hostile penetration of government computers in Terudom strained credulity. But some recent scandals have convinced me that the truth is worse than anything I can invent.

**** Derisive nickname for the FBI, used mainly, but not exclusively, by the American political Right.

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