The ELI Event B007R5LTNS

confused ticket agent. The agent turned toward the wall panel as if to work on it, but quickly drew back his hands when he saw the bare wires and melted plastic. He shrugged and shouted something back to Pettis, pointing to the damaged panel.
    Robin turned around. There were four yellow taxis parked in front; he ran down the sidewalk and jumped into the first one. The driver turned to face him. “Hello, young sir. And where will you be going today?”
    “The airport. Fast!”
    The driver eyed him curiously. He glanced at the commotion in the terminal, then back at Robin. “You are hurrying, yes?”
    Robin frantically looked out the window of the cab. The clanging had stopped, and the officer had joined the other two men. The glass doors were still shut, but the steel security gate was sliding back! Robin ripped one of the twenties from his pocket and thrust it at the driver. “Fast!” he shouted again.
    The driver took a quick look at the angry, uniformed men pounding and pulling at the sliding doors. “Yes, let us be going fast,” he agreed. He jammed the old cab into gear and they roared away.
    “Damn, we almost had him, Major,” Davies groaned, cradling his injured hand.
    “What’s the damage?”
    Davies grunted in pain as he tried to move his wrist and fingers with his other hand. He stopped when he got to his pinky. It was swollen and blue, and stuck out at an odd angle. He was afraid to touch it.
    “I—I think this one’s broken, sir.”
    Pettis nodded as the glass doors slid open at last and they stepped out of the building. “Groucho, you’ll have to splint it in the chopper. We should get out of here before some yokel with a badge starts asking questions.” Pettis quickly turned, and bumped hard into a sizable man standing directly in his path.
    “You mean a yokel like me? With a badge like this?” said the Denver cop, pointing to his chest. “Asking questions like ‘what the hell is going on here?’” He smiled condescendingly at Pettis.
    “Shit,” Pettis muttered.
    In the bus terminal’s office, Grochonski finished splinting Davies’s broken finger and closed the first aid kit the ticket agent had given him. “Thanks,” he said. Davies nodded his thanks as well, still wincing in pain.
    “So you want me to believe the terminal’s security system overreacted to some sort of electronic interference created by some navigation equipment you’re carrying,” the police officer said to Grochonski. “You buy that?” he asked the Greyhound agent.
    The agent took one look at Pettis and made the easy decision. “Um, it seems reasonable to me, officer. The building’s old, there’s no telling what might affect the wiring. Anyway, we’ve calmed the passengers and resumed normal operations. There’s no damage or injuries—except for this young man’s finger—so I’d prefer to just forget the whole thing. If that’s possible.”
    The officer looked around quizzically. “Is there a reason I’m not seeing said interference-generating equipment?”
    “It’s, um, in the chopper. Sir,” Davies offered weakly.
    “The one you landed in the parking lot.” The officer sighed wearily and ran a hand over his face. Davies nodded. “Yeah, about that...”
    “Officer Harman,” Pettis said smoothly, “we do apologize for the false alarm and the resulting inconvenience. If you’d like a full accounting of our presence here, I can certainly get my commanding officer, General Holt, on the phone. I’m sure he’d be glad to explain to you the intricacies of our mission and how an investigation by local authorities might impede our progress and negatively impact national security.”
    Harman was unfazed. “I get your point, Major. You’re about as subtle as a gun barrel in the ribs. Relax, I get enough aggravation in this job without bringing it on myself. False alarm it is.” He rose, muttering to himself, and left the room.
    “Finally,” Pettis said. “Davies, check the other cabs outside. See if you can get a line on our suspect. Now then, Mr.…?”
    “Neely,” the ticket agent said.
    “Mr. Neely, about this boy. What information can you give me?”
    “I can check the records for his ticket purchase. How it was charged, and so on. If you want.”
    “Yes, good, do it. Take Sergeant Grochonski with you. Oh, and Groucho?” The big man stopped at the door. “Regarding that load of happy horseshit you came up with about our nav gear supposedly triggering the