Agent Ross checked the perimeter of Annabelle’s yard as soon as he noticed the trench. With his flashlight, he wasn’t sure if he made out footprints in the dewy, scorched earth, but he was sure he could get a better view of it in the daylight. Whatever had landed here, it was gone now, and most likely in the possession of a civilian, and the property of the US government needed to be taken back into custody by one of her agents. The absence of lights inside or outside of the house told him that the occupants were either absent or asleep, and he was banking on the latter as he pulled his lock picking kit from his pocket and began to break into the kitchen through the back door.
:::+++:::
Annabelle was inquisitive to a nigh suicidal fault, but she did draw the line at getting into odd, windowless vehicles with strange men. Though Sam had given her a brief rundown of their situation as she packed up some things and they gathered some food (despite Fred’s passive objections), she had maintained a healthy note of skepticism; a note which grew to a full chord of disbelief when they made it back to the huge tour van/RV looking vehicle that Sam and Fred called their “freighter”.
Sam noticed Annabelle’s growing reticence, and blinked a bit, putting together the pieces of her disbelief. He was stepping toward Annabelle, reaching out a hand to her as his mind formulated a suitably reassuring response to her decreasing faith, when she suddenly shuddered, her eyes widening before she collapsed in a heap on the ground, wheezing faintly as her backpack slapped against her back and the spur from her middle finger shot into a nearby tree. Sam blinked in shock, quickly kneeling next to her and assessing the damage, and just as quickly found the tiny tag of the laser bullet stuck to the back of her neck. He looked up, his brow furrowing, as Fred shoved his side arm back into his coverall pockets and loaded up their cargo bay.
Fred wasn’t cold hearted. On the contrary, he just knew how badly Sam managed to screw up conversations with girls he liked. Not that he really cared whether Sam hooked up with some Puny Human or not, he just didn’t want him to say something that would make them have to chase her down through the increasingly dark woods. “Best to just tase her, bro. She was going to freak out.” Fred looked over to Sam apologetically as he opened the entry hatch. “And anyway, it’ll be hard to argue with the story when she’s out of orbit.”
“Fine. But no more shooting!” Sam grumbled in assent, and gathered Annabelle’s unconscious form into his arms as he rose to his feet. He immediately regretted his gallantry, however. Annabelle was pretty, but far from petite, and Sam fell forward with a painful groan. Fred shook his head and jogged over to them, helping Sam to load Annabelle into the freighter.
:::+++:::
A thorough sweep made it clear the house was empty, and though he had not begun to cut open the couch cushions in his search, Agent Ross was becoming increasingly confident that there was no space debris in the house. Retracing his steps to minimize his exposure at the site, he made his way back through the kitchen, where his eyes stopped on the kitchen table, taking note of a clear blue tumbler he hadn’t noticed before. Adjusting his latex gloves, he reached for the tumbler, and smiled as he looked inside. A tumbler full of eyeglass screws is a slightly suspicious sight on its own, but Agent Ross thought he recognized the faint violet sheen of the metal.
Just as he reached into his pocket for a plastic evidence bag, he heard a rumbling. Far enough that the noise was just short of deafening, and close enough that the house shook, a few dishes clattering out of the cabinets. A layman might have mistaken the event for an earthquake, but Agent Ross had greater ken. Stepping toward the window, he watched as the strange, but familiar blue lights rose from the woods, only to quickly disappear upward into the stratosphere.
“Crap, really?” Agent Ross rubbed his temple with his free hand before pulling his phone from his pocket to call his supervisor. His investigation was clearly going to require more man-hours.
