* * *
Angela knocked frantically on Brett’s door. She waited impatiently, and raised her hand to knock again when the door opened. Brett yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“What is it?” asked Brett. He checked his watch. “It’s two in the morning.”
Fumbling in her purse, Angela pushed past Brett. “Something’s happened. Something big.”
“Two o’clock in the morning big?” said Brett, ruffling his hand through his short red hair.
“Just pull up your computer,” said Angela. She upended her purse on Brett’s coffee table and pawed through its contents.
Brett stared at Angela, blinking back sleep. Finally, he shook his head. “Okay, but only because you’re my favorite Latin girl.”
Angela rolled her eyes. She let out a small cry of joy as she picked a flash drive out of the pile. She handed it to Brett.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You need to see,” said Angela. He plugged the flash drive into his computer. “Open the file called ‘Weird bad stuff.’”
“Weird bad stuff, huh?” said Brett. “Not very creative.”
Angela continued, “I went back to that chat room after we overheard them talk about that war.”
“I’m not sure overheard is the right word,” said Brett. He clicked on the icon to open Angela’s flash drive.
“There were some pretty heated arguments going on at about midnight. I took some screenshots—I think I got all of it,” said Angela. She leaned on the back of Brett’s chair and stared intensely at the computer screen.
Brett looked at Angela and grinned. “You took screenshots? Aww, my little Angela’s starting to become computer literate. I’m so proud.”
Angela tweaked his ear. “Just get that file open. I need to know what you think.”
With two clicks of the mouse, Brett opened the file. They leaned forward to read the conversation.
Ember: You shouldn’t have gotten involved.
8asnayke: Oh yeah, like you’ve got all power on this side.
Ember: I am a protector of the worlds.
8asnayke: The power in the scroll should be given to all of us.
8asnayke: self-elected protector.
Ember: and I intend to keep thugs like you from endangering them.
8asnayke: name calling now? And what would you do with the scroll?
Ember: Destroy it.
8asnayke: And you have the right to decide that? but it’s a moot point now. The brats got away.
Ember: If you hadn’t brought your men, we could have gotten it.
8asnayke: I was just trying to do what was best for our kind.
Ember: As was I.
8asnayke: Then why were you attacking us?
Ember: I don’t trust you, I don’t trust what you’d do with the power. And because you were there, we suffered casualties.
8asnayke: Don’t blame me for that. That was all the Gray kid.
Ember: And you saw what happened to him. Is that the power of the scroll? Is that what you want?
8asnayke: There was no mention of a curse. There is no curse. Gray is sick.
8asnayke: I will have that scroll.
Ember: I swear on my life I’ll get it first.
8asnayke: I’ll hold you to that.
“Well?” asked Angela after Brett finished reading. “What do you think?”
Brett leaned back in his seat. “It’s some sort of elaborate online roll-playing game?” He flashed an uneasy smile at her.
“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” said Angela. She started pacing back and forth.
“No,” Brett protested. “It’s just…I mean, look at what they say—power of the scroll, a curse.”
“Maybe those are code words,” said Angela. “I think we should contact the FBI, get ahold of Agent Blue and Agent Orange. Something’s going on, and Gray’s right in the middle of it.”
“You haven’t gotten any sleep tonight, have you?” said Brett. His fingertips tapped lightly on the keyboard.
Angela shook her head sharply. “No, I couldn’t sleep. Not after seeing that chat with plans for a war. Well? Don’t you think we should contact Agents Blue and Orange?”
Brett tapped the keys lightly once more before responding, “Agent Orange and Agent Blue aren’t in the FBI.”
Angela stopped pacing. She stared at Brett. “What?”
“They’re not FBI agents—and Orange and Blue aren’t FBI agent codenames,” said Brett. “I hacked into their computer files myself.”
“You what?” asked Angela. Her legs suddenly felt very weak. They were going to jail. If they were found out, she and Brett were going to jail. “You hacked into FBI files?”
“Yeah,” said Brett nonchalantly. He swiveled around in his chair. “I do it all the time. They know, too. I leave them little memos, let them know where their security’s weak. I’ve even sent fake emails to different people, from different people, to make them think they like each other. You wouldn’t believe how many couples I’ve gotten together at the Bureau doing that. I’m a regular little matchmaker.”
“You hacked into their files…” said Angela, not hearing whatever else Brett was saying. The world had stopped spinning, or time had stopped. Whatever it was, she was sure they were going to jail.
“Yup,” said Brett. He leaned back in his chair once more. “But the point is they’re not FBI agents. They’re agents of some kind—yes, I know I said they weren’t listed as agents, but I meant FBI agents. I think they’re consultants, maybe part of a special team. I was going to surprise you and tell you once I knew who they were, but, well, that ship’s kind of sunk.”
“You hacked into their files…” repeated Angela.
“Yes, I did.” Brett stood and gently put his hands on Angela’s shoulders. “And, judging from your extremely vacant expression, I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”
“Okay…” Angela let Brett lead her to the door. She said distractedly, “Let me know if you find anything else.”
“That I will,” Brett reassured her. He gently pushed her outside and closed the door behind her.
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