The blue-eyed man drummed his fingers softly as he watched Davis walk up to his desk. A grin played about his lips.

    "Well, Chuckles, how's our little pigeon doing?" he said.

    "Flown the coop," Davis replied, as he sat down on the edge of the desk and sighed "-- and please stop calling me that."

    "How's our status?"

    "Well, he made a blog posting but I had to change it -- just as you suspected. We lost the RFID in his phone, but the other two appear to be secure for now. He seems to be camped out in Rockville at the moment. I suspect he may still have friends near the college, as our last track showed him approaching the campus."

    "What about the Bureau?" asked the blue-eyed man, referring to the FBI.

    "Heh, heh, just like clockwork. I picked-up one of their secure IP's crawling the blog about thirty minutes ago; went straight to the log files."

    "Good, there's our 'big fish' taking the bait. Why don't you head down to Montgomery College and set the hook. You can drop off the package for the out-of-state visitor while you're at it."

    Two hours later Davis was standing in front of Macklin Tower wearing khaki cargo shorts and a Dave Mathews T-Shirt. He walked into the library and handed the clerk his student ID.

    "You can use number seventeen, Martin," she said, glancing at his ID and recording the name in a handwritten log.

    "Thanks," muttered Davis, making his way to the row of computers. He sat in front of PC#17 and logged in with the generic username and password that was taped to the monitor. In a matter of moments he had bypassed the buffer set up by OCD on Marty's host server, and the Administrative page of Marty's blog was on the screen in front of him.

    He began to type and after a few moments his cell phone vibrated. A glance at the single word in the text message subject line, "hooked", told him what he wanted to know; the FBI had copied the log files from "Marty's"  blog posting in progress. Predictably thorough, thought Davis; he smiled and finished the entry, then left the library. He had one more errand to run.