Liz looked up at the older man nervously. He asked if she wanted to get started, but she didn't know what exactly he meant by that. Based on Max's experience in the Special Unit's captivity, the room didn't seem well-suited to bring in other personnel, furniture or equipment. In the White Room, Max often spoke to Agent Pierce with no furniture or equipment, so it seemed strange to even furnish the room with a table and chairs. Liz figured it could only give her something to use to attack this older agent. It also occurred to her that if the lingering drugs in her system aimed to pacify that threat, then they certainly served their purpose.
"Well?" the agent followed up calmly.
"Yuhhhh," Liz intended to ask what they planned for her or wanted from her, but when she tried to speak, she realized her mouth and throat were bone dry. It seemed that marked yet another side effect of the drug the Special Unit injected her with back in the alley.
"Oh, please drink up," the agent said, gesturing to the water.
Liz picked up the glass and raised it to her lips.
"Slowly now," the agent cautioned, sounding genuinely concerned that Liz could choke if she tried to take too large of an initial sip.
Liz took a very small sip and felt some relief before she experienced the feeling of dryness remained on certain patches of her throat. She quickly took another sip of water, this one a bit larger than the first. She still remained measured about taking too big of a gulp, while the agent watched her carefully. The water seemed to almost instantly help Liz feel better from the effects of the drug. She took a third more regular sip and then put the glass down.
"There, now that's much better, isn't it?" the agent asked.
His calm, curious and at times caring demeanor defied Liz's expectations of the Special Unit's captivity. Because of this, all of his mannerisms made him come off as more mysterious. She decided to change tactics from her original intention to ask about what they planned to do to her.
"Who are you?" Liz asked.
"Agent Christopher Samuelson, head of the Special Unit," he announced proudly.
"You're the head of the Special Unit?" Liz asked with sincere surprise.
At best Liz figured this man served as "the Good Cop" in her questioning with more aggressive agents waiting to strong arm her if she didn't immediately cooperate. At worst, she wondered if he could turn more sinister at the first sign of resistance, which Liz still considered a possibility.
"Yes," Samuelson confirmed simply. "And I have been for quite some time. I was appointed to this position by the President shortly after you and your friends left Roswell."
"What do you want with me?" Liz asked.
"A simple conversation, Ms. Evans," Samuelson replied with a smile. "You see how I even honor your chosen name, Liz Evans. Even though you must surely realize that you and Max Evans never legally married."
This made Liz a bit angry, but she remained mindful and cautious in what emotions or body language cues she might reveal to Agent Samuelson. Of course Liz knew that her and Max never could sign marriage licenses given their wanted status. She considered it Samuelson's fault, or at least the Special Unit's, so Liz didn't appreciate him using that regrettable circumstance to possibly provoke her.
"Do you want me to thank you?" Liz asked with undertones of confusion, her voice cracking a bit.
Liz took another sip of water. She took great care for the question to come off that way and not reveal some of the anger and frustration she felt.
"No," Samuelson replied.
Liz wasn't sure if Samuelson interpreted her question as implying a lack of appreciation for him calling her Ms. Evans, as Liz intended, or saw it as sarcasm attributing blame to him for their legal status. Either way, he seemed disappointed that his apparent attempt at an olive branch didn't land the way he hoped.
"You're not…" Liz paused, deciding to make her observation a little less personal, "…this whole setup, actually, is not what I expected."
Samuelson glanced around the room briefly before directing his gaze back into her eyes. He smiled softly.
"Oh," Samuelson commented, "yes, perhaps you were expecting something similar to what Mr. Evans experienced all those years ago under Agent Pierce. I was with the Unit back then, you know, working under Pierce. His methods were… crude. And ultimately not effective. Nor would they align with the Unit's current purpose."
"So you just want to talk," Liz repeated back to him Samuelson's stated purpose. "And what if I don't want to talk to you, what then? Am I free to go?"
Samuelson frowned. "My hope is that you'll hear me out, and then not desire to leave. I expect that you're scientific curiosity will compel you to want to know more about why we've brought you in at this particular moment in time."
Liz did want to know that, though she still feared for her safety. Despite not directly answering her question, Liz heard nothing to shatter her belief that she was captured and imprisoned.
After a pause, Samuelson continued. "Believe me, I would be happy to have this conversation out in public, if I thought you would willingly join me. While we are in a facility that ensures our conversation won't be interrupted, you should think of this venue like you would… a charming coffee shop."
Liz glanced up at one of the cameras in the corner of the room.
"Coffee shops don't have cameras."
Samuelson looked a bit surprised at the mention of cameras. He turned to see what she referred to. When he looked back at her, he smiled slightly.
"Ah," Samuelson said, "those aren't cameras, Ms. Evans. That is a technology to disrupt the ability for you or any of your alien allies to employ your powers. It's a less invasive tactic than the drugs we once gave Mr. Evans and it's… for my safety. While we don't fully understand the science behind it, we're aware that you have some physical abilities. Something bioelectrical, isn't it? We're not aware that you've manifested those abilities lately, but it felt necessary to take certain… precautions just the same."
When Liz's powers first manifested, she exhibited a bioelectric telekinesis ability on several occasions before her power ultimately developed into precognition. Her powers weren't widely observed by people outside of her loved ones, and those that got a glimpse wouldn't understand what they saw. Liz wouldn't expect the Special Unit to even know about this, but it signified the comprehensiveness of their intelligence on her family.
Samuelson talked about her abilities with a certain giddiness, which made Liz uncomfortable. The man's calmness and friendliness didn't put Liz at ease like she suspected he wanted, either. Liz wasn't about to embrace the implication that he wasn't an adversary. He clearly possessed a great deal of information about her and Max, likely Isabel and Michael too, which made her feel uneasy. Samuelson's mysterious and out-of-place demeanor actually made Liz more nervous and on-edge than if he acted in an aggressive or outright nefarious way.
Liz took another drink of water. Partly because her throat remained somewhat dry but mainly as a stall tactic because she needed to think about what to do with the latest information Samuelson revealed.
"What do you want to talk about?" Liz asked.
Liz did begin to wonder where Samuelson would take the questioning first. She also thought maybe by cutting through the pleasantries should could get this ordeal over with. Conflicting with those thoughts was the idea that Liz should try to stall and remain engaged in a dialog with Samuelson as long as possible to give Max and the others time to locate and rescue her. However, Liz didn't know how long she was unconscious and therefore had no sense of where they could be located.
"You still look so unsettled, Ms. Evans," Samuelson noted. "Surely you must realize if we wanted to have a conversation like this with you before now, we have the means to have made it happen much sooner."
Liz did not assume that. She felt like her and Max got keen at recognizing the agents and eluding them. Liz believed that staying in El Quartelejo this long allowed the Special Unit to position Hannah as someone unassuming and friendly to put Liz's guard down just long enough to strike. Plus, before recent events, she rarely ventured anywhere without Max, and squaring off against Max and his powers would make their capture far more challenging.
Liz decided to prompt Samuelson for more information. "What are you saying?"
Samuelson calmly replied, "While I admit we've been tracking your and Mr. Evan's movements and activities, the Special Unit has moved toward strictly a policy of observation, not engagement or capture."
"Until now anyway," Liz noted.
"Yes, well, that's not so much for anything you've done." Samuelson acknowledged. "The Unit is focused on threat assessment and prevention you see. We recognized over the years that you and Mr. Evans are not here to do any harm to anyone. Therefore we've had no motivation to bring you in. Same goes with your friends, Isabel Ramirez, Michael Guerin and Kyle Valenti."
"What about now?" Liz wondered. "Do you think something has changed?"
Samuelson smiled. "No, of course not. I assure you, if you were a threat to the public, we wouldn't be having this pleasant conversation."
For the first time, Liz sensed a potential for dangerous, violent strikes that Samuelson appeared both empowered and willing to order. This caused Liz to become even more unsettled by his eerily friendly mannerisms. Liz started to think about Max. Even after all these years of being with Max, perhaps Samuelson desired to turn Liz from him. Back in high school, Sherriff Valenti showed her pictures of the same silver handprint that appeared on her stomach after Max healed her on dead bodies in old photos. Valenti implied Max killed them to scare her into betraying him. While neither Liz nor Valenti could've known at the time, they would both later come to understand that Nasedo was the killer.
"Is this about Max?" Liz inquired nervously.
Samuelson chuckled. "No, no, of course not. I wouldn't expect you to roll over on Mr. Evans due to your 23 year relationship. And like I said, we've been monitoring both of you and are quite confident you mean the rest of us no harm. This is about the alien ship that landed in the Rita Blanca National Grasslands."
It sounded strange to Liz to hear him talk about that so flippantly. In her previous dealings with the government, they never wanted to reveal anything. So even if Samuelson knew the ship was alien, she would've expected him to refer to it as a UFO if anything.
After cutting through the surprise of it, Liz needed to decide how to respond to this statement. Her instinct told her to act like she didn't know anything about it, but Samuelson already demonstrated that he kept close tabs on her and Max. She didn't think she could fool him.
"I thought the military ran the crash site," Liz said.
"Yes, well, the military reports to me, and I report to the President," Samuelson shared. "And unlike you and your hybrid friends, we have every reason to believe that whatever, whoever landed there aren't friendly to you and are very much a threat to the American public."
Liz took another drink of water. She wondered what Samuelson knew, and what he expected her to know.
"It's definitely a threat to Max and our friends," Liz revealed. "I don't think the general public is a target in any way…"
Liz allowed herself to trail off. She saw no advantage to explaining Max's identity on Antar or his connection to Kivar.
Meanwhile Samuelson picked up the pen and looked prepared to start writing on the legal pad that he brought with him into the room.
"Well," Samuelson prodded, "go on."
Liz looked him in the eyes and made no effort to hide her trepidation. Samuelson sighed revealing a hint of frustration. Then, he pressed his lips into that eerie smile once again.
"Please, Ms. Evans," Samuelson added. "The truth is that we aren't surprised to learn that ship is a threat to you and your husband. And at minimum we're worried about a disregard they'll have for any collateral damage."
"That's probably true," Liz agreed with the notion that Kivar wouldn't make any effort to avoid humans getting in the crossfire of his pursuit to secure the Granolith and kill the Royal Four.
"And this is why we can help one another on this one," Samuelson suggested, "combine our resources to abate the alien threat."
Liz could hardly believe what she was hearing. Of all the possible reasons running through her mind of why the Special Unit moved to capture her or Max now, this seemed so unlikely that Liz never would go so far as to dream up this scenario.
"I've been on the run from your Special Unit for more than half of my life," Liz reminded Samuelson. "And now you're saying you want to work together?"
"I know how that must sound," Samuelson admitted, "but the enemy of your enemy is your friend."
Cliché, but Liz couldn't argue the reasoning under the present circumstances. Surely, Max would never agree to a partnership or feel ok about Liz making that choice and sharing information with the Special Unit. And even Liz wasn't ready to immediately conclude this was a good idea.
"What is it that you think you can do?" Liz asked.
"We have advanced weaponry years beyond what the public thinks is possible," Samuelson said, with that all too familiar government secrecy keeping the statement vague.
"It sounds like you're saying you want to start a battle," Liz observed.
"It's not about wanting to start anything," Samuelson insisted firmly, while keeping his tone calm and measured. "All we want, the purpose of the Special Unit throughout its history, is to keep this country—to keep the whole world safe. I'm here to humbly admit to you, Ms. Evans, that we may not be capable of doing that entirely on our own and without the help of you and your alien hybrid comrades."
Liz just looked at him. The whole experience felt surreal, but the latest developments in their conversation seemed especially hard to fathom. Liz took another sip of water.
"We know the activities you and Mr. Evans have been up to all these years," Samuelson reminded her. "We've tracked you as you go from one corner of the country to the other, finding people in distress and saving them. You're providing them the same level of protection, at least in principle, that the Unit was created to provide. It seems our goals are well-aligned."
The thought of using the Special Unit to help fight Kivar got the wheels of Liz's mind turning. For the first time, the possibility of anyone other than Max, Michael, Isabel and Ava engaging with Kivar and his forces felt like a viable option. Liz wished the support came from anywhere else, but they might not get the benefit of that.
Ever since their first conversation with Ava revealing the Granolith as Kivar's target, Liz grappled with how they could possibly make their way back to the Granolith Chamber near Roswell to retrieve it without being followed and/or intercepted by Kivar, the Special Unit or both. Now it seemed a path emerged that would not only assure no interference from the US government, but they could somehow even take some measures to keep Kivar off their tails.
"We could use a distraction to give us time to retrieve something," Liz offered cautiously.
Samuelson picked up the pen and scribbled a note on the legal pad. It took only a few seconds and then he quickly looked back up at Liz.
"Is it a weapon?" Samuelson asked.
Liz couldn't tell if he asked out of concern that Liz and the other had access to a dangerous weapon or excitement that they may have a means to defeat Kivar. But Liz also recognized something was missing. Samuelson said the Special Unit determined Max, Liz, Kyle, Michael and Isabel didn't pose a threat. Yet he somehow knew that they're all at odds with Kivar. She couldn't see how the Special Unit would know of their confrontation at Ava's house. The general store was a more public area, but as far as she knew nothing happened there before the Special Unit took her in. Liz wanted to understand why Samuelson appeared so sure that Kivar was their enemy before she could even consider recommending to Max that he hear Samuelson out.
"No, it's noth…" Liz caught herself from saying too much, "I can't… It's not up to me to determine that we trust you."
"I see," Samuelson said, as he scribbled another short note on his legal pad. "We've long suspected that there was a hierarchy. It's Mr. Evans who's the leader, isn't it?"
Liz continued to experience surprise over the knowledge Samuelson possessed prior to this conversation or the intelligence he used in order to piece things together with such a high degree of accuracy. While impressive in some capacity, it also gave Liz more reservation about trusting him.
"If we were to collaborate with the Special Unit, then we would all need to agree to that," Liz explained truthfully, though she suspected that if Max embraced the idea then everyone else may agree too.
But Liz knew her husband. Max would be least likely to embrace a deal with the Special Unit. Liz on the other hand realized that taking Samuelson up on his offer could serve as their best chance to survive the crisis at hand. Even if they could only give a small degree of trust to the Special Unit, that alone might assure them that they won't need to worry about the Special Unit taking them on while Kivar remained on Earth. Liz started to think about what she might need to do in order to convince Samuelson to release her to go to speak to Max. She knew he would not willingly enter a Special Unit facility to speak with Samuelson or any of the other agents.
"We may not be afforded the time you and your companions prefer," Samuelson stated.
"I don't disagree completely," Liz conceded, "but…"
Liz stopped talking as she heard the door behind her and to the right open. She turned to see another agent in full black suit peek her head in.
"Sir, we need a word," the agent said.
Samuelson got up, walked back toward the door and closed it behind him.
Liz experienced a feeling of unsettled anticipation. She reasoned a man like Samuelson often got called away to address matters needing his authority to weigh in or decide on. However she also sensed that her presence at the Special Unit's base sat at the very top of Agent Samuelson's priority list, so she figured only something of great significance would abruptly pull him from their conversation.
It occurred to Liz that Max and the others come to rescue her could explain it, but she almost didn't want to let herself raise that level of hope. Liz also considered the possibility that Kivar and his forces could be storming the facility. For reasons still a mystery to Liz, Samuelson clearly indicated that he considered Kivar's presence a threat. Maybe that conclusion came from a cautious place, fearing the unknown. However Liz's gut told her that seemed unlikely because for all of the less-than-concrete impressions Samuelson left on her, one observation Liz felt confident in was that the head of the Special Unit was well-informed.
After what felt like two or three minutes, all of the power cut out. There were no windows to the outside world in the room she sat in, so Liz's environment became truly pitch black. While not connected to a plan from a major carrier, Liz's phone still lit up like anyone else's. She fumbled through her pockets, but of course the Special Unit confiscated it. The darkness made an already tense situation worse.
Then, the lights came back on. Liz waited for about a minute, expecting Samuelson or perhaps another agent to quickly come for her. But no one came. This reinforced Liz's theory that something big called Samuelson away. She realized that before the power outage she could hear the dull hum of a ventilation fan, but now nothing. This gave Liz the sense that while the lights came back on, whatever disrupted the power, the base didn't fully restore order yet.
Liz now felt mostly recovered from the drug the Special Unit injected her with to knock her out while transporting her to their base. Compelled to try to do anything, Liz stood up and walked toward the door. Locked. Next Liz walked back to the table, but this time she stepped around and sat in the chair Samuelson occupied. He didn't take the legal pad or pen with him and Liz wondered if anything about his note could provide her insight.
As Liz read the note on Samuelson's pad, she smiled slightly. The mysterious Agent Samuelson managed to leave one final surprise for her. The note read:
When you've talked to the others, and you're ready to collaborate, call me: 555-4732.
Liz tore off the sheet from the legal pad, folded it in half twice and then placed it into her pocket. While it made no logical sense, the note also calmed Liz's nerves. Even though she knew nothing of what happened around her at the base, Agent Samuelson's confidence and foreshadowing that she would soon reunite with Max and the others proved a comforting thought.