Nancy McGill's arm was on automatic pilot when it stretched to hit the top of her alarm clock. The noise stopped and she squinted to read the digital display. Five fifteen. If Nancy were more awake she would have realized the alarm should not be sounding for another hour. Again she heard the buzzing, but this time she recognized it as the front doorbell. Maybe they would go away if she covered her head with a pillow. Before the bell could buzz another time, the facts collided in her head. It was 5:15 a.m. and someone was ringing her doorbell. Conclusion: it must be an emergency. Suddenly, her eyes were wide open and she was walking to the door while pulling on an oversized Stanford University sweatshirt.

A final buzz came just as she looked out through the peephole. Nancy could see three men standing in front of her door. The two in front looked like twins. Well not really twins, but they had basically the same haircuts, suits, ties and blank expressions on their faces. The third man, the one behind the other two, looked a little rough around the edges. She spoke through the locked door while trying to think what they might want.

Nancy: Who is it?

West: Ma'am, my name is Agent West. I'm with the FBI.

Nancy's heart began beating faster. What could they want? She looked through the peephole again. Most of her view was filled by the set of credentials being displayed by the twin on the left. Nancy turned the dead-bolt lock and opened the door.

Nancy: Is there some kind trouble?

West: Yes ma'am, there is. May we come in to talk about it?

Nancy: Yes, come in, of course.

West: Thank you. Ms. McGill, this is Agent Jennings. He's my partner at the Bureau. And this is Mr. Dunn, Malcolm Dunn.

Dunn: Good Morning, Ms. McGill. I'm sorry we had to wake you so early.

Nancy: I'm sure you've got your reasons. Why don't you have a seat in the living room. I'm going to get some coffee started.

Before starting the coffee maker, she dashed back to the bedroom and pulled on an old pair of jeans. Nancy didn't like leaving the men alone so she by-passed the bathroom despite a strong inclination to do something with her hair. She stopped in the kitchen to load enough coffee and water into the electric drip machine for a full pot of strong French roast. As she got to the living room, Dunn was taking some files out of his briefcase.

Nancy: So, why are you here?

Dunn: We're going to have to figure that out together. Let me start by telling you what's happened.

Nancy: Good idea. Go ahead.

Dunn: Last night, at midnight, a research team funded by the Pentagon had an accident. An artificial life form being developed to carry out defense-related missions against the enemies of our country escaped its containment area. It's now at large and operating outside of our control. We were sent here to request your assistance in recovering or eliminating the rogue program.

Nancy was afraid she knew what they were getting at, but she wasn't sure. She needed more from them first. She wasn't just going to volunteer that maybe Spike Webb should look into their little problem for them. At the same time, she was already getting excited about the case. Could she work with Dunn and the FBI while secretly communicating to Spike about the threat? It was the plan of a desperate mind reaching for options. She would know soon enough that no such plan was going to be needed.

Nancy: I'll be glad to do whatever I can, but I'm not sure how I can help with a problem like this.

West: Ms. McGill, I don't understand the danger of this situation as well as Mr. Dunn, but I can tell you, there are people in Washington who are scared to death of what this thing can do. One of them is my boss's boss. I know because he was yelling at me on the phone all the way over here this morning. We just don't have time for playing our cards close to the vest. Do you think D.O.D. people like Dunn here normally come out and say things like 'the Pentagon screwed up?'

Dunn: Nancy, may I call you Nancy? I understand your situation. Three guys you've never seen before come barging in your home before sunrise and expect immediate cooperation. I'm not surprised that you need more from us before we can start working together. West, give her the file.

West hesitated, but then seemed to reconsider. He handed Nancy an FBI file marked 'Top Secret.' It had only two other words on the outside of the folder: Spike Webb.

Nancy swallowed hard and looked at Dunn. She could feel control of the situation slipping away. The next few seconds seemed to last forever. Nancy was frozen. She suddenly realized how much of an advantage they had on her and didn't know what to do about it.

Dunn: Go ahead Nancy, open the file. Read through it for a couple minutes. I'll go pour us all some coffee while you do that.

Dunn stood up and went to the kitchen. Nancy couldn't believe what she saw. The file was an inch thick. The chronologically-ordered reports it held went back more than a year. It had summaries of meetings and conversations, mostly phone calls, that included Spike! Each report also had attachments marked 'Photographic Evidence.' They showed Nancy, Roger, and even a screen shot of Spike that must have been taken with a telephoto lens through her office window.

Nancy: Okay, what's next?

Dunn: Next thing is a meeting. We're all going to sit down and figure out a plan. We have two men picking up Mr. Tango right now. We'll be joining the research team at six a.m. sharp. It's about a twenty minute drive when Mr. West uses his official blue light. That leaves you ten minutes to shower and pack whatever you want to bring.

Nancy: Pack? What do you mean pack?

Dunn: This is a tight lid operation. Once you're inside the research lab, you won't be leaving until this is wrapped up. We can't afford a leak to the public. It might be a couple days.

Nancy now sensed the complete seriousness about this man. She knew she would be driving away with him and his FBI servants in exactly ten minutes. There was no room for negotiation of any kind. She left the room without saying a word as Dunn sipped his coffee.

While she threw some clothes in her gym bag, it struck her. She wasn't mad at him for giving her such direct orders. His arrogance wasn't distasteful to her, it was simply self-confidence. It was attractive. She was glad to be on his side of this and she was glad to have someone competent calling the shots. She trusted him. Weird!



ISYS Idea System, Inc. designed and implemented the Spike Webb (tm) site, including all content and artwork.

Copyright © 1995 ISYS Idea Systems, Inc. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part in
any form or medium without express written permission of ISYS Idea Systems, Inc. is prohibited.
Spike Webb and the Spike Webb logo are trademarks of ISYS Idea Systems, Inc.