The door to the Presidents conference room opened and in walked the head of Speical Forces, the Pentagon. Seated at the large oval table were; an agent from the CDC (Center of Disease Control), the Secretary of Defence, the Presidents chief advisor, and the President himself. They were quietly conversing amongst themselves. All talking ceased when the Pentagon man took his seat and began his report.

"At 8:41 AM today, the remains of the helicopter sent to retrieve our divers were recovered. The helicopter had been completely incinerated. We have yet to discover the cause of the crash. The scene is being recreated in a warehouse behind the town's police station. We are sending some forensic agents to aid them. We think that this crash is somehow related to the... thing that has been terrorising the town. We are not so sure that this is a freak of nature anymore. So far we are not drawing any conclusions. This thing has us all baffled. Fortunatly, the public doesn't know about any of this yet, and the ever watchful eyes of the press must have been closed, because not a word of this has been printed." He paused to let the people in the room absorb what he had just said. When he thought it was firmly embedded in their minds, he added, "The topic of this metting is to be kept secret, as is what was just said here today. Any reports written will be classified. If I find out that any of you have leaked information...well, you know what the consequences will be." He strode out of the room. He was a busy man, especially as of now. He had families to visit and work insurances to pay. He sighed.

12:00 PM

Manchek's stomach rumbled. He needed a luncch break. He hadn't eaten anything since four in the morning. Before him lay the remains of the government helicopter. They had just finished re-creating the crash site and the forensics team had arrived to find the cause of the crash.

Manchek was watching them work with awe. This was more than your average fingerprinting team. This was the big leagues. These government people covered all of the items, taking notes and poking around. They wore latex gloves so as not to dirty any potential evidence with their fingerprints. There were seven of them in total and they were done in twenty minutes. They quietly conferred with each other before coming to Manchel with their report.

"Sir, it is our opinion that this pilot did not crash of his own accord. He was shot down."

"But we aren't in hostile territory. Who would shoot down a United States helicopter?"

"We don't know sir, but who ever it was that did it, was a professional."

Manchek walked away with a puzzled look on his face. He almost knocked over Kelling on his way out.

She said, "Hey watch it. I was coming to get you. Want lunch?"

"Huh?" Manchek mumbled, distractedly.

Sarah shook him out of his daze. "I said, want lunch?"

"Yes please"

"What did the forensics people find?"

"They say the helicopter was shot down."

"Oh, thats bad. By who?"

"They have no idea. Now can we please stop talking about it until after we eat?"

"Fine with me."

They exited the warehouse and got into Manchek's car.

"Where too?"

"I don't know. Somewhere expensive."

They drove off in the direction of Red Lobster, under teh watchful eyes of S4, more commonly known to the Russian underworld as Karlos. He picked up his walkie talkie and pressed the button.

"Red Robin, this is Blue Bird. The Bird has left the nest. I repeat, the Bird has left the Tree. Over."

"Blue Bird, this is Red Robin. Proceed with the building of the Nest. Over."

"I copy Red Robin. Over." He hoppen on his inconspicous black motorcycle and proceeded to follow the car.

12:15 PM

"Smoking or non-smoking, sir?"

"Smoking, please."

The waiter led Manchek and Kelling to a nearby table surrounded by a light fog tat was cigarrette smoke. The bell rang as another waiter stepped up to tale their order. A tall, lanky motorcyclist stepped through the door.

"Smoking or... "

"Smokin'" said Karlos, as he eyed Manchek and Kelling. He ambled over to the empty table next to the two law enforcers, just as teh waiter walked away with their order.

"May I take your order please?"

Reluctantly, Karlos turned around and glared at the pretty blond waitress standing in front of him. "Gimme a spaghetti," he said in a mock Texern accent.

"Will that be all?"

Karlos gave her a hard look and she shrank away.

Meanwhile, he resumed his surveying of Manchek and Kelling. They seemed to be talking about something. He leaned as close as possible without it looking like he was eavesdropping. He heard bits and pieces of their conversation. Parts like, "Eewww gross," and "How's your family?" and then laughter. He began to think that nothing would come of him tailing them. The Boss would not be too pleased if that were to become the situation. He hoped that he would have something to report at the end of the day. His life depended on it.

Half an hour later, he was still watching them. They weren't talking about anything remotely good. His stomach rumbled. Why had they chosen this d*mned restaurant if it took so long to get your meal. He was about to leave when he heard the word, "it". He immediatly sat down and leaned towards them, pretending to reach for an imaginary fork. He was dissapointed when it turned out to be reffering to something commonplace. He sighed with relief as he noticed the waitress coming out of the kitchen with a plate of spaghetti. Unfortunatly, it wasn't his. He had to restrain himself from tripping the waitress in anger. That would accomplish nothing, except getting himself kicked out of the restaurant. In the Boss' book, that was a screw-up, and the Boss didn't tolerate screw-ups. He forced himself to calm down as the waitress re-entered the kitchen. Manchek and Kelling's food arrived and they eagerly dug in. Karlos was stuck eating cheese and garlic buns, although they weren't bad.

They were halfway through their meal when his food arrived. He turned around and devoted all his attention to eating. By now he was positive nothing productive would come out of this. He finished his food in ten minutes and hastily wiped all the spaghetti sauce off his face as the blond waitress brought him his bill and his after-meal mints. He picked up the bill and read it.

He gasped. Eight dollars for a bowl of spaghetti? That was inconceivable! What kind of restaurant charged eight dollars for spaghetti? The Boss would deffinetly not be pleased. They were on a tight budget. Manchek didn't seem too surprised at his total. The two officers quietly got up and walked towards the cash register and Karlos counted his money. Eight dollars! And they wanted a tip on top of that. He got up and followed the duo he was tailing. He was about to take out his anger on the cashier when he saw the waitress looking at him. He lowered his arms, paid the cashier and left. He couldn't face the Boss now so he kept stalking the officers, hoping to earn what they knew.

In Manchek's car, Sarah looked in the rearview mirror in time to see a motorcycle drive out of the parking lot. As the car slowed for a red light, she got a better look at his face. It was that boisterous man from the restaurant. He looked like he was following them!

She told Manchek. He veered to the right as the light changed green. He turned left at the next intersection and then left on to a sideroad. The motorcycle was still behind them. Karlos realised they must have noticed him, so when they pulled into the parking lot of a nearby bakery, he kept on driving. He would meet them later on at the warehouse. But first he had some buisness to take care of. As he drove off in the direction of the warehouse, Kelling and Manchek got back in their car.

"Did you get a good look at him?" Manchek asked hopefully.

"Yes. He had dark, almost black eyes and a dark complexion. At the restaurant he spoke with a fake Texern accent. I think he came from overseas." She thought for a minute. "Oh yeah. He also had close cropped black hair. He could have been Russian or German, or something like that."

"Hmmm... Russian," Manchek muttered thoughtfully to himself. "I wonder if he is related to our case."