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"Thanks, John."

"It's OK, Jack. We'll find her." Ferguson could see that Jack was seriously concerned, almost depressed.

Jack had first started to worry about Erisa being missing about the same time that the jet carrying her touched down in Sante Fe. Erisa was hustled out into a waiting van and driven into the darkness. Forty minutes of travelling later, the car door opened, and she was escorted into a large home. It was a western style ranch on the side of a stony hill. She was led into the living room, the nylon tie was cut and, a few moments later, a Mexican lady came in and asked if anybody wanted something to drink. Erisa said, "milk," and smiled weakly.

"Erisa, it seems you did a service for us and then did something we don't understand," a voice was moving in from behind her. An elderly, very well dressed, man walked around her, looked her in the eyes, and sat down. "You were investigating our web site."

"Look, I don't know what you are talking about. What web site, what service?"

"You helped USSS 26 this weekend. We found out this afternoon."