“Refer to the jurisdiction clause on page two,” the woman repeated to the police officer, without turning her attention away from what she was doing. “You can leave us here and go back to doing whatever it is you do.”
The TPD officer was frustrated, but it seemed that there was nothing he could do. He’d placed a call to his superior, but hadn’t heard back yet. He’d asked the two ‘agents’ to stop, but they’d handed over a thick packet of documents and gone about their work. There was something unsettling about them – intimidating – and Officer Carlson was not used to being intimidated. He didn’t know what to do. And so he did nothing but watch.
It was mid-afternoon, and the two, wearing black suits with disposable white coveralls zipped over them, had been digging around what was left of the warehouse for about 30 minutes before they decided they were finished. Collecting their things they silently walked to their car and departed, without so much as a word or nod to the officer.
“I think it’s east of us,” Agent Borneaux said as she fiddled with the tablet in her hands. Agent Warner drove as she worked with the satellite-enabled tracking sensor and tracking device, attempting to fine-tune the reception in order to track what were called ‘Omega 4 Waves,’ and give them a location of their source.
The tan Chrysler Malibu drove eastward down Broadway, the setting sun behind it.