Chapter 11: The Power Of Purple

Late in the afternoon of the following day, three bicycles were delivered, complete with shrouded motors. They looked like motorbikes of the future. Steve checked the first one out and nodded his approval. Greg and Vikki took the other two out for short rides through the woods.

Greg yelled at the top of his lungs, filled with the joy and excitement of being alive as he and Vikki used the trees for an obstacle course and ducked back and forth as they traveled at high speeds between the trees. Vikki, because of her extensive martial arts training, had better reflexes and control. She left Greg far behind as they raced.

Greg stopped and Vikki turned back to see what was wrong. He looked up and waved. She saw a purple band on the crossbar of his bike frame. "What are you doing there?" she asked, "You must have a reason to put purple stuff there, I'm sure. The next question is, do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He grinned at her and said in a loud voice, "This is a test. Take me up to one hundred feet at one foot per second."

In total silence, Greg and the bike rose straight into the air. "Take me back down and do not make a bump. Do it now." He and the bike returned to the earth.

"Oh wow, Greg, You mean only a little dab of the purple stuff can move your bike?" She was excited as she thought of all the possibilities. "Wait till we tell our folks. The twins are going to be so jealous. Take me up with you, please?" The expression on her face reminded Greg of a little girl at her first big birthday party.

"Shut your bike down and get on behind me and sit still. I don't want you jiggling around behind me when we're up in the air. Now you can get on behind me in the saddle seat. Put your feet on the pegs and hold on tight."

She didn't like his bossiness. "Greg, I have ridden on motorcycles before as a passenger. I am perfectly ... ouch!" she screamed as they shot straight up into the air. Although they stopped climbing at two hundred feet, her stomach seemed to keep going upward.

"Greg, you fool," she smacked him lightly on the back of the head, "Don't you ever pull another stunt like that. I mean it."

He laughed, "Gotcha. Besides, if you don't like my driving, you can get off right now and walk back to your bike."

His laughter was replaced with silence when he looked down, then looked again. Two strange cars had started to turn into the driveway of his house. "Look down there. We got more bad guys I think."

Vikki saw where he was looking. "We have to warn our parents."

"I already did. I just hooked up with Dog and he said he heard them and started barking. Our folks are worried about us." Greg brought them back down to where Vikki's bike stood.

"You get your bike and sneak up on them from this side. And wait until you can catch one alone." She slipped off and Greg immediately floated off through the treetops, silent as a puff of smoke.

Still remaining as silent as he could, he landed his bike behind the barn. Greg had no plan beyond gaining access to the purple carpet. He climbed through the shuttered window at the back of the barn and hurried to the small pile of round stones his father planned to use for the decorative fence that never got built yet.

Greg looked around for something to put the rocks in. He saw a collection of old magazines in a wooden box alongside the back wall near the window he had climbed through. This ought to work, he thought to himself and dumped the magazines out into a messy pile. He placed the box on the purple slab in front of the seat. Then Greg began to load the box with the round stones.

"What are you doing there?" Vikki's voice suddenly sounded in his ear. Although she spoke in a normal tone of voice it seemed like a shout to Greg's startled ears.

Greg jumped and dropped a stone and almost hit his foot. "What are you doing here? I told you..."

Vikki stuck her chin out and looked Greg hard in the eye. "Listen, little man, you can tell all you want and it'll get you nothing. You are not my boss. You may suggest, only suggest." She stood there with her hands on her hips and jaw still thrust forward.

Greg snorted, "Well I suggest you get out of my way. I got work to do." He picked up the stone he had dropped and carried it toward the platform.

"Hey, you got a good idea there, shrimp, you need something heavier though. Why not load the chain and those pieces of scrap metal on too. Then you can really drop some mucho heavy stuff on them."

Greg thought a moment and nodded his agreement. "There's one going your way toward the barn. Be careful." Dog's warning came just as Greg heard someone fumble with the side door latch.

Vikki heard it too and lightly ran to one side. "Hatchoo!" Greg yelled in the worst imitation sneeze Vikki ever heard. The door slammed open and a beefy individual jumped inside. He tried to point his gun around in all directions at once as he looked for a target. In a blur of motion Vikki dropped and kicked up at the intruder's wrist. The gun fell from nerveless fingers.

"I got it," Greg pounced on the gun and grabbed it up from where it had fallen. Vikki stood, wound up and did a high kick to the man's jaw that would have done Chuck Norris proud in his prime. The stranger fell to the floor dazed.

Greg grabbed the ever-present roll of duct tape and handed it to Vikki. "Here, you tape and I'll guard." He checked to make sure the safety was off.

Vikki suddenly spied a badge inside the fallen man's coat. "Uh oh," she said, "Greg you ever shot a pistol before?"

"Well, paint ball guns a few times," he admitted.

"Good enough. Go shoot the windshields out of those two cars. We got problems, these guys might be the law."

"Hoo boy, why didn't they just say who they were?" Greg was annoyed that policemen would sneak up on people. Good guys didn't sneak. At least they weren't supposed to.

"Greg shut up and go shoot those cars," she ordered.

For once Greg obeyed with argument. He opened one of the double doors slightly and emptied the twelve shot automatic in the direction of the cars. Two tires on the first car were hit and went flat. One tire on the second car was hit. The windshields were untouched. Greg ran out of bullets and exclaimed, "Nuts."

He grabbed two of the smallest rocks off the pile and opened the door wider. He stepped clear of the door and let fly with the two rocks. Two windshields were spider webbed with fine lines. "There," he told himself with satisfaction.

"Get back in here," Vikki told him. "Shut the door."

Greg did and Vikki motioned toward the back window. He grinned and followed her outside. They both climbed onto his bike and shot up into the air. They saw four of the other five intruders run toward the back door of the house. One headed toward the barn.

As soon as he was alone and the others' eyes were on the house, Greg dropped toward the single person in a sharp dive and leveled off right behind him. The bike shot forward and struck the man in the back. Vikki lost her balance and fell off right on top of the fallen man. She jumped to her feet and delivered a heel kick to the man's forehead. His skull bounced off the ground once and he lay still.

Greg stopped and returned for her. She climbed on and they slipped around behind the barn. Greg stopped and they both got off. He leaned the bike on the kickstand and ran back to the corner they had just gone around. "Hey stupid." he yelled as loud as he could.

Four sets of eyes turned toward the boy. "Two down and four to go." Greg yelled and hurried back to the bike. He and Vikki climbed on and shot up into the trees.

Two of the intruders ran toward the barn. The other two slipped up on the back porch. A big, black and very ticked off Dog exploded through the kitchen window and clamped his teeth down on one man's wrist. The intruder screamed as bones were crunched and he dropped his gun. The other turned and was met with the same set of sharp teeth. He went down in silence.

Steve and Henry ran out the back door and grabbed up the two guns. "If they move wrong, you shoot one and I get the other," Steve told him. Two sets of pain filled eyes glared up at the two friends

.

"These aren't Raak," Henry said. "Perhaps we should search them for identification.

"How do you know they aren't those Raak guys?" Steve asked.

"They somehow don't feel right. These people seemed more business-like. Raak are anger and hate driven. You keep a gun pointed at them and I'll search them. If necessary to stop either of them from causing more worry, shoot through me."

Henry carefully put the captured gun in his hand down and squatted next to the fallen man closest to him. He opened the man's suit coat and removed a small, black folder. There was an identification card, which displayed the letters "FBI" very prominently. "Steve, I believe we have a problem here. This guy's badge says he is a fed. He's from the FBI."

Dog suddenly shot off the porch and ran toward the barn. He disappeared around the corner and attacked one of the two who had gone after Greg and Vikki. The other one turned to help his partner when Greg swooped down and rammed him in the back with the bike. Dog jumped back just in time to miss being struck. Vikki dropped off the bike and landed on the ground four feet below with the grace of a Ninja. Two hard kicks and the pair were both unconscious.

Dog clamped his jaws down on one man's suit coat and began to drag his man toward the house. "Greg, you and Vikki bring the other one."

Greg nodded and told Vikki Dog's instructions. She nodded and they grabbed the second one by the heels and let his head drag on the ground as they strained and pulled him behind Dog. "This guy is heavy," Greg complained.

As soon as the two were deposited at the bottom of the steps Greg and Dog hurried toward the barn. The other man, a federal marshal, was busily removing the duct tape from his partner and did not hear them approach. "Mister," Greg said, "Stop what you're doing or my dog will eat you."

"I am from the US Marshal's office. You are all under arrest." The man stood and tried to brush the dust from his black suit.

"Nah, you got it all wrong. You are under arrest and Dog here will ruin you for life if you don't take your friend and drag him to the house." Dog opened his mouth wide and let out a blood-chilling growl. The agent didn't answer. Instead, he picked up his partner in his arms and carried him to the house.

"This is all of them," Vikki said, once Greg and Dog were back on the porch.

"I called the sheriff's department and the person on duty said they would send some deputies out," Ellen said from the door. "They told me we should hold off shooting anyone before they got here." She gave the downed enemy a grim smile and added, "They didn't say couldn't shoot one or two if we wanted."

"You people are in a lot of trouble. You have assaulted and done great bodily harm to federal agents in the pursuit of their duties." The deputy US marshal spoke as he began removing the duct tape from his partner.

"You have your facts crossed," Henry contradicted him. "First off, six strangers with drawn guns came into our yard. They tried to slip up on us with their guns still in their hands. At that point, two young teenagers and a dog wrecked their plans and took their guns away from them."

He took a deep breath and continued. "I am an ill man, under the care of the veterans hospital for an illness which coincides with my service in foreign lands. I have a right to protect myself and both the American Legion and the VFW will help me with legal expenses; that is if I so desire and need those services.

"You people trespassed and were caught flat-footed by the rankest of amateurs, two children and a dog. We welcome the opportunity to defend ourselves in an open court of law."

Just then Peg and Ralph Milton drove up. Peg jumped out and ran to her friends. Ralph looked at Dog and winked. "You are some family," he said. Dog barked his agreement.

One of the untaped FBI agents reached for an ankle holster. Peg saw the move and grabbed him up and spun him in the air. She dropped him hard back down where he was lying. He fell with a satisfying thud onto the porch and lay still. "I don't feel very lady like right now," she told the fallen man. Then she removed his ankle gun.

Vikki had previously gone into the house and brought out Greg's mini camcorder. She had the whole thing on disk. "Everybody look at the camera and wave.

Peg told another one who had started to sit up, "You little runt, if I wasn't a lady I would break your scrawny little neck." She looked down at him with contempt.

Just then two cruisers from the sheriff's department turned off the road and into the Ryan's driveway. Four deputies got out and approached the Ryan's back porch. Steve recognized the lead deputy and greeted him. Just then another car drove in and parked. It was from the state police.

A single man got out. He was dressed in worn jeans, a stained tee shirt and had well worn cowboy boots on his feet. "I'm Captain Anderson. My friends here, the Miltons, alerted me to the fact some federal agents were running a rogue operation completely off the books. I have interrupted my holy day of fishing to come here and try to find out just what is going on."

"I am special FBI agent Nathan Somers and I demand you arrest this whole gang of civilians. We shall bring various and sundry charges against them starting with assault of federal officers in the pursuit of their duties."

Captain Anderson saw Vikki standing to one side recording everything with Greg's little camera. He smiled to himself and asked, "You have written orders for this interagency operation? I recognize the two clowns from the US Marshal's office." The sour expression on his face left little doubt what he thought of the two Federal marshals.

"No, we do not have written orders with us," Somers admitted.

"Well, do you have a search warrant or and arrest warrant for anyone present or believed to be present under the rules of probable cause?"

"No, we don't need warrants, we have reasonable cause to believe a felony is currently underway involving interstate commerce and RICO laws."

"In other words you don't have doodly squat. This is an off the books operation which, in this instance, violates the constitutional rights of all these people. Oh you idiots, they have a legal right to have shot you all and nothing would have happened to them. When a person has reasonable cause to believe he is in mortal danger he has carte blanche to shoot first and let the undertaker sort it out. Now what is this all about?"

"Money laundering and knowledge and probable participation of an ongoing criminal operation. I can't say anything else because it is classified." Somers stood straight and folded his arms as if to defy anyone to argue with him.

"Young lady, what are your plans for the camera you have used to record all this wonderful and exciting action?" Captain Anderson asked with a big grin on his face.

"I bet a TV show would like to see how our federal tax dollars are being spent. For good reason, the FBI has been getting a lot of bad publicity lately. This is just another chapter in the ongoing story."

One of the deputies, the one who had been to the original Ryan trouble call said, "These people have been attacked twice by armed strangers and are well within their rights to shoot to kill. You bunglers are lucky. Besides, you have an agreement with the state of Minnesota to coordinate all operations within this state with the local authorities and we didn't hear peep one from you. Naughty, naughty."

Two more hours were spent straightening matters out. Finally the FBI agents confessed they had tried to trace an email address where a hot tip had come from. "All our tracers were able to get were two letters of the originating computer's ID. They were the letters 'g' and 'a'."

"Woops. You guys have been using your ferret program again. Congress ordered the FBI specifically to cease and desist. Said program is so illegal it was supposed to be erased and all notes on it destroyed."

Captain Anderson began to show anger. "You clowns seem to think you are above the law. I intend to bring charges to bear on you in federal court. I do believe the local County Sheriff, hardly a fan of yours, will join me. I bet I can get publicity from day one, especially when it comes to light all it took was an unarmed pair of teenagers and one big black dog to disarm the six of you well armed and highly trained agents and you didn't even muss the kids' hair."

The lead FBI agent all at once realized their bluffs weren't working. "Look, this is about national security," he began. "We backtracked a message which gave us a tip a about a money laundering scheme we had already begun to investigate and couldn't get anywhere on. The email gave all the access codes and account numbers and laid out where the money usually went after it left the two banks involved. We have to find out where the information came from."

"What a load of..." Captain Anderson broke of what he had started to say and frowned.

"Where did the ferret program say the email originated?"

"After going through a half dozen repeaters we traced it as far as a Muslim mosque in Los Angeles."

"What?" Captain Anderson exclaimed, "And by what leap of logic did you clueless characters get from LA to a jerkwater county in Minnesota?"

"The identifier on the computer. The computer showed the two letters. We traced every computer, which had ever sent an email in the last two years and turned up only one with a 'G' and 'a' identifier. This location has the only one we could find."

"So, since you couldn't get a pet judge to grant you a search warrant, you swoop down on these people you thought were defenseless and found yourselves in the middle of a hornets' nest."

"We didn't request a court ordered warrant. We didn't have time," Somers said. He added, "Besides, if they didn't have anything to hide, why are they so combat ready?"

"Young lady, would you turn off your Camera?" Anderson shook his head in frustrated unbelief. "Would you mind if these agents examined your computer?"