"It's quite a tale your Ms. Uljaken has been telling us," Malley said. "You don't mind if we ask a few clarifying questions, do you?"

Kyle shook his head. "No, not at all, but I'm concerned about time. They may have already moved on."

Malley turned to the other two men. "Go ahead," he said.

Walsh spoke first. "We haven't had time to verify any of the story. Can you tell us your qualifications to assess the situation?" Walsh gestured vaguely to Hanna Uljaken. "Ms. Uljaken has told us some of your background, but we'd like to know more."

Kyle frowned slightly, wondering whether they were going to start playing "who's the boss" games with him. Aloud, he said, "Of course. I have a degree in comparative metaphysics from Columbia-Manhattan with a minor in behavioral psychology. My practical experience includes seven years as a field agent and special investigator with the UCAS Federal Bureau of Investigation, Department of Paranormal Affairs. If you're so stuck on my cred, I can give-"

Woodhouse held up his hand in a halt gesture. 'That won't be necessary," he said. "You're the one found Wilhemina Keene, aren't you?"

Kyle paused. "Yes." Keene had been a registered nurse and adept mage performing ritual sacrifices with newborn babies stolen from hospitals throughout New England. She killed twelve before the FBI finally caught up with her on the verge of murdering her thirteenth, the final element in whatever bizarre ritual she'd been performing. Her ultimate goal had never been determined. That was five years ago. "Maybe I should say I led the team."

"We saw the locked file last year as part of a special training program," Woodhouse said. "Can you tell me what her primary ritual instrument was?"

"Now what the frag does this have to do-"

Chief Lekas cut him off. "Mr. Teller, Truman Technologies is asking quite a bit from Eagle on this. And most of it has to be taken on faith, if you will. We'd like to confirm that you are who you say you are. If so, we're ready to roll. If not, well…" Lekas let his voice trail off. "The boys tell me that the Keene woman's actual methods were never disclosed to the public, but you, of course, would know."

Kyle sighed and glanced at Hanna.

She smiled weakly. "Please, don't spare any details on my account."

Kyle drew in a breath. "All right, you win. She used a surgical scalpel to drain some of her own blood and the child's into a tub of water. Just before the baby got too weak, she drowned him in it and then burned the body."

The four men looked at each other and nodded. Hanna had gone pale and seemed to be struggling to hang on to her composure.

"Happy now?" Kyle asked.

"Look," Walsh said, "you seem to be forgetting that-"

Kyle cut him off angrily. "No, you've forgotten that every second we stand here playing games might be the one by which we miss them."

The two junior officers looked like they wanted to continue the argument, but Commander Malley silenced them with a glare. "You're right, Mr. Teller," he said. "Sergeants Walsh and Woodhouse are the magicians on the team. Sometimes we all get a little territorial. Why don't you give us the tactical situation as you see it?"

Kyle nodded. "No offense taken," he said, though no one had offered an apology. "A force of unknown number, consisting of powerful spirits, has kidnapped the son of my client. From everything that I've seen and heard, these spirits resemble insects and they breed using human hosts. I've specifically seen one in the form of a cockroach."

Walsh blanched slightly, as did Malley, who said, "We've had the occasional unexplained contact with insect-like spirits before, but nothing we could categorize or build any information from. They seemed to be anomalies rather than something we needed to be concerned about."

"Aberrations," Kyle said, "Well, I'm afraid we might be dealing with entire nests or hives, or however they group themselves, including queen spirits and Coyote knows what else. There might even be more man one type of insect spirit present"

"So we're facing significant opposition?" asked Malley.

"You'd better believe it. And most normal tactics won't work against them because they're spirits. How experienced are your people in fighting spirits?"

Malley frowned. "Trained against them, but not experienced."

"The one I fought was pretty powerful, but if your people keep their heads, I think they'll manage."

"But we don't even know where they are," said Chief Lekas.

"I know where they are," said Kyle. "I just haven't found it yet."

"Ritual?" asked Walsh.

Kyle nodded, pointing north and west. "That way, not too far. Can your people take me up in a helicopter? I can find it faster that way than trying to reconnoiter on the ground."

"Makes sense," said Malley. "I'll head my team in that direction, and once you find the location, we can go straight there instead of blindly driving around."

"Excuse me, sir," said Woodhouse. "I've got a suggestion."

Malley raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Sergeant. Speak up."

"Mr. Teller could recon astrally. It would be a lot faster than the helicopter."

Kyle shook his head. "Thought of that, but I don't know Chicago well enough to recognize where I am by positions of roads and buildings." He turned to explain to Hanna. "You can't read signs from astral space, only sense emotions associated with the information on them. If they're anything, road signs are unemotional."

Hanna nodded, giving him a wan smile. She seemed lost, out of her element with tactical and mystical matters she barely understood. But he could see that she was taking it all in, absorbing it, and most likely learning from it.

"One of us will go with you," said Walsh.

Kyle paused to think. "That would work."

"If you stay in view, I shouldn't have any trouble following you," the sergeant said. "We can leave our bodies in the truck and then start north along Western."

Malley nodded. "Sounds good to me, if you agree, Mr. Teller."

"Yes. It'll speed things up."

The commander gestured to two observation chairs near the truck's telecommunications suite. As Kyle and Walsh settled into them, Malley jacked into the tactical system and began issuing orders.

"If you need me while I'm out, slap me as hard as you can," Kyle told Hanna. "I…" she said, obviously surprised. "If you say so."

"If you hit me hard enough, it'll jerk my spirit back into I my body. Otherwise, there's no way to get in touch with me."

"I should warn you, I'm pretty strong," Hanna said.

Kyle smiled. "Great." He looked at Walsh, but the mage had already lapsed into unconsciousness, his astral form probably floating free. "Gotta go," said Kyle, and he leaned back, relaxing his body, shifting his focus, and finally slipped free of his body as the tone and texture of the command van shifted.

Walsh was waiting there, standing next to his body, surrounded by a nimbus of blue and gold energy. Otherwise, except for Woodhouse and the mundane auras of the others present, the command van interior was cold and sterile, and reeked faintly of hard emotions like anger and fear.

"Lead on, Mr. Teller," Walsh said. "Though you might want to dampen yourself somewhat."

Kyle nodded, realizing that his foci were radiating considerable magical energy, energy that would serve as a flare to anyone or anything looking for them. With a quick thought, he subsumed the radiating power into his own aura, masking the overflow. It was uncomfortable, but bearable. Walsh nodded approval.

Kyle turned toward what he knew to be the direction in which Mitch Truman's body had been just over an hour ago.

He slipped through the walls of the command van, Walsh drifting after him, and then shot off, as quickly as he could, toward the lake.

Walsh followed on his tail along the dim, life-accented, careening track of North Avenue and then finally out over the bright lake itself. "I thought you said the site was to the northwest," the sergeant said, drawing abreast of Kyle's floating astral form.