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name and occupation for the record."
    "Mark Beamon. I'm the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI's Flagstaff office."
    He'd have guessed it impossible, but the expression of the man to Congresswoman Gregory's right became even more smug as he leaned into his microphone.
    "It is my understanding that you have been suspended from the FBI, sir."
    He was from one of those redneck states, though Beamon honestly couldn't remember which. One of those assholes whose ridiculous good of boy drawl got thicker every time he came up for election.
    "Call me a professional hearing attendee, then," Beamon said, and then instantly regretted it.
    There was a quiet tittering from the previously silent young people pressed against the walls of the room. All except two, who looked on gravely. It wasn't hard to guess who they worked for.
    Congresswoman Gregory chose to ignore Beamon's jibe, as it wasn't directed at her, and moved on. She began flipping loudly through a thick bound document in front of her, effectively cutting off her colleague before he could protest Beamon's "lack of respect for these proceedings" or "flippant attitude toward their important task" or whatever stock political phrase the situation called for.
    "Mr. Beamon, I know we've all carefully read your report on this matter, but I think we'd appreciate a brief overview in your own words."
    Beamon couldn't help frowning slightly--the report was in his own words.
    He'd spent months writing it.
    "I was investigating the Church of the Evolution--" The Southern congressman leaned into his microphone again, provoking mildly annoyed expressions from his colleagues.
    "To clarify, sir.
    You had been directly ordered, on a number of occasions, not to pursue this investigation. Isn't that right?" Beamon sighed a little too loud.
    His microphone picked it up and bounced it off the walls.
    "I was investigating the death of two people and the subsequent disappearance of a young girl. A decision was made by FBI management, based on the significant financial resources and political clout of the church, that the investigation would be ... problematic.
    Unfortunately, since the church actually had the girl and intended to kill her, I felt compelled to focus on them as suspects."
    As seemed to be the custom of the political elite, the man seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Beamon had been proven right in the end and, judging by his body language, felt he'd won the exchange.
    "... and that, in part, resulted in your suspension."
    Beamon let his mind go blank for a moment and stopped his growing anger before it could screw him. What could he say?
    "Uh, yes. It was certainly one of the factors."
    "Please continue," Congresswoman Gregory cut in.
    "During the investigation it came to my attention that the church had set up an extensive and highly sophisticated phone-tapping system.
    They'd incorporated a small long-distance carrier called Vericomm that connected calls through the Internet. In essence, all calls had to go through the church's mainframes before being dispersed to available bandwidth over the Net. They used that as an opportunity to record and listen to calls. Long-distance rates on this carrier were very cheap five cents a minute all the time. They simply offered the service to anyone they were interested in."
    "And when you became aware of this system, did you notify your superiors at the FBI?"
    "No. At that time, you could say that me and the Bureau weren't speaking."
    "So you took action unilaterally."
    Beamon eyed the empty pitcher nervously, coughed, and then nodded.
    "Yes. I was able to get into the database where their more interesting tapes were stored and download a number of the recorded conversations.
    Many, as you know, involved political figures. When I completed my investigation and found the girl who had gone missing, I turned those tapes over to the FBI."
    She looked at him suspiciously.
    "And I suppose you are now going to tell me that you have no idea how