Sarah and Bryson got in first. The cop was holding Michael by the arm far more tightly than he needed to. Michael was feeling desperate, and not just for the obvious reasons. Surely the entire police force didn’t work for Kaine already—although he guessed there was a possibility that the one who’d caught them could be a Tangent. There was also the weirdness with Agent Weber, though this could be totally unrelated. Jackson Porter was missing, wanted for serious crimes, and the boy’s face had been plastered all over the NewsBops. It wasn’t strange at all that Michael had been reported.
Either way, too much was at risk if they brought Michael in. What if no one else realized what Kaine was up to and he couldn’t convince them? He wanted to scream at Agent Weber. They needed the VNS.
“Your turn,” the cop said when Sarah slid over to sit in the middle.
Michael’s desperation burst to the surface in that moment. “Listen, sir … can I talk to you? In private?”
The man’s visor was still raised, and his expression did not change in the slightest—if Michael’s request surprised him, he didn’t show it. “You want to talk to me. In private.” He stated it more than asked.
Michael nodded. “Please.”
The cop gripped him by the arm even harder and escorted him several feet away from the hovercar. “Go ahead, boy. Talk.”
“We both know who I am,” Michael said.
“Thank you for acknowledging that I’m not the stupidest cop to ever live. That’s why I’m taking you in.”
Michael pointed at the car. “Those two people had nothing to do with me running. They’re just friends I picked up along the way. And … there’s a reason I did run. You think it’s because I’m a criminal, but this goes up the ladder big-time, way higher than whoever you work for.”
“Son, what in the hell are you talking about?”
“You can’t arrest me. You can’t. We have information on a real cyber-terrorist and … we need … to find out more.”
The cop was shaking his head long before Michael finished the sentence. “I don’t like my time to be wasted, boy.
Stop talking in riddles. You want me to know something, then spit it out.”
Michael’s blood hissed through his veins. He’d painted himself into a corner. “It’s … complicated. Listen, what can I do to make you let us go? Money? I can get you a lot of money. My … parents are rich. I didn’t run away empty-handed.”
The cop held up a hand, and Michael knew it was time to shut up.
“Boy, let me tell you something. I’ve met some brave people in my life. And I’ve met some awfully stupid people. You’re one of the rare ones that are both. Trying to bribe me? Do you realize I’m an eighth-generation cop? My great-great-great-however-many-greats-grandfather rode a horse on his patrols, son. A horse. Do you think I’m going to take a few credits from a teenager and throw all that in the crapper?”
Dang, Michael thought. It was hard to argue with the horse story. He decided to dive into the scary waters of the naked truth.
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m really desperate. You can’t take me back. Please. It has to do with Kaine—I know you’ve heard of him—and we have information. We need to go to the VNS headquarters in Atlanta.”
“Well,” the cop replied, “if you know so much, all the more reason to take you in.”
“But—”
The cop had had enough. “Get. In. The car.”
Deflated, Michael did as he was told.
“Maybe this is a good thing,” Sarah said after the hovercar had vaulted into flight. They were moving at breakneck speed through the travel zones designated for such vehicles, almost solely operated by government entities.
“A good thing?” Michael repeated. “I can’t wait to hear why.” He knew the cop could hear him, and he didn’t really care.
“We need to tell somebody,” she countered. “You really think we can find my parents and fight Kaine and his army of Tangents by ourselves? I think we’ve done just about all we can do—we tried the VNS, and that didn’t pan out so well. So now we try telling the police, the GBI, Central Intelligence, whoever. Someone will listen to us.”
Bryson nodded, taking Sarah’s side, but Michael shook his head.
“I feel like the VNS are the only ones who’ll take us seriously.” He interrupted Sarah’s protests before she could even begin. “Yes, we tried, and I know they brushed us off. But there had to be a reason for that. Maybe Agent Weber was worried about spies, or maybe she was trying to protect us, I don’t know. But somehow we’ve got to get face to face with her.”
“I don’t know, man,” Bryson said. Which depressed Michael, because if anyone was going to be adventurous, it would’ve been Bryson. If he’d given up, resigned to go along with the police, then that was probably what they’d just have to do.