The mobile command center was a hotbed of activity.
As Burke’s team manned superfast computers wired into a variety of government, satellite, law-enforcement, and security networks, he paced. Back and forth he strode, his eyes scanning the nonstop stream of images that zipped across the many screens.
Carson was marking locations on a computer map interface that used aerial images of the crash scene and surrounding areas. “We tracked the two sets of EBE footprints on and off for 7.3 miles,” he informed Burke. “Finally losing them at a rest stop off the highway.” A line on his computer screen blinked, indicating the path of the footprints. Carson clicked at the end of the trail, and security-camera images of the rest stop grew larger on the screen.
Pope, meanwhile, was rapidly searching through a database of law-enforcement logs and police-incident reports. One entry stood out. “Four hours and nineteen minutes post-impact, there was a highway-patrol incident report filed at that very same rest stop,” he said excitedly.
Pope quickly typed a password override and was able to read the entire incident report.
“A car trunk burglarized,” he said as he quickly scanned the patrolman’s report. “No sign of forced entry. No valuables taken . . .”
Burke didn’t hide his frustration.“Give me something better than that, Mr. Pope,” he demanded.
Pope smiled as he continued reading from the incident report. “. . . except for clothing belonging to a fifteen-year-old-boy and girl.” He turned and looked right at his boss, eager to impress him.“I think it’s better than a possibility that they look human.”
The group considered this development. Up to this point, all they had to go on were footprints. But this information indicated that the aliens looked like a teenage boy and girl, and that changed everything.
Carson shook his head. “They can hide in plain sight.”
But Burke wasn’t discouraged. He always liked a good challenge, and at least they were getting somewhere. “We’re in the game, people,” he told them. “Two kids don’t walk down the highway alone at night. I need some options on how they were able to evade capture.”
Carson’s fingers started dancing across his keyboard as he scanned through video stills from a security camera at the rest stop. He slowed down when the time stamp on the video neared the time of the incident report. For a few minutes there was absolutely no activity. Then he froze the tape on an image of a tour bus.
“We have a bus landing roughly at the same time at the same rest stop,” he said. Carson shuttled through the video of passengers getting off the bus to stretch their legs or use the restroom.
“Thirty-nine people exit,” he said as the last one got off. Then he sped the images forward until the people started getting back on board. “It looks like the bus picked up some extra baggage.” He hit a button, and the image froze.
The black-and-white image was taken at night and was grainy, but there was no mistaking what they saw. There were now two new figures in the middle of the group, and they were getting back on the bus. They couldn’t see their faces, but both appeared to be teenagers.
“We have a mode of escape and an extraction point,” Burke called out to the others. “I need to know where the package was delivered. We’re losing time.”
Matheson didn’t need to be told twice. He zoomed the camera in. “Nevada plates: Charlie-Peru-3-5-5-3-1,” he read while simultaneously typing them into his computer. Within seconds a flood of information started running across his screen.
“Silver State Trailways,” he continued. “Route schedule indicates . . . next stop . . . Sin City.”
“Odds are strong our targets are in Las Vegas,” Burke said, looming over the others. “Find them.”
Pope didn’t need to be told twice. He hacked into a camera feed from outside the city’s main bus terminal and announced, “Eight twenty-five a.m. the vehicle rolled into the Silver State Trailways depot on Ogden Avenue.”
They were getting closer. Pope scrolled through the footage until something caught his eye. As he zoomed in, the grainy image got even more difficult to see. The group still couldn’t make out the faces, but it looked like the same two kids from the rest stop were in the picture.
“Our targets have entered a heavily populated city,” Burke announced. “Too many unmanageable options for hiding and human interaction. I want total access to every single surveillance camera Vegas has.”
Anticipating Burke’s order, Carson had already bypassed two separate firewalls and was deep inside the grid of cameras that were positioned throughout the city. “We’re interlinking the system,” he informed Burke.
Despite the amazing speed and skill his team was displaying, Burke was not satisfied. He wanted results. Every second lost increased the chance of these two disappearing—for good. That was unacceptable.
“The targets are on foot,” he reminded everyone. “Walk with them.”
In a flash, maps of Las Vegas appeared on their screens, and they started tracing out possible routes the teenagers may have used after leaving the bus station.
“We have their vehicle,” Burke said,“so we know they didn’t fly away. They’re out there somewhere.”
“Freeman Street at Main to be exact,” Matheson informed the others. “I have activity at an ATM. Twelve forty-three p.m.”
Once again, he brought up a grainy image taken by a security camera. On the video, two teenagers carefully approached the automated teller machine. They didn’t come all the way up to it, though, so their faces were still off-camera. As the men watched, suddenly, even though neither kid had moved even a finger, the ATM started spitting out a steady stream of cash.
“Bank records indicate they withdrew the entire contents of the machine,” he continued.“They never used a card, and they never touched the machine. Not once.”
“Whoa,” Pope gasped. This was the real deal. “Nice trick.”
Burke considered the video and what it meant. “Gentlemen, it seems our EBEs possess some extraordinary skills.”
Carson’s eyes lit up as something else on the video feed caught his eye.“Who found themselves a ride? Stewart Avenue, one twenty-nine p.m. Keep your eyes on the yellow cab, lower left of the screen.”
As they looked at the monitor, they saw the two teenagers approaching Jack’s cab. Right before getting in, they turned back toward the camera. For the first time Burke and his team got a glimpse of Seth’s and Sara’s faces. The image remained frozen on the screen.
Burke studied their faces on the monitor, trying to take a mental picture. Even though the black-and-white footage was hard to make out, their eyes were haunting.
What were they hiding? And more importantly, why were they here?