No warrant

They rode in silence to Townsend's house. Arriving, Johnson charged up the walk and was pounding on the door, ringing the bell, over and over again. "I don't think anyone is home," Reed said sarcastically.

Johnson grimaced and just charged at the door with his shoulder. It gave way and he fell into the house. Reed ran after him and helped him to his feet and was scolding him before he had him standing. "We don't have a warrant!"

"Probable cause against a suspected terrorist," the agent said with a cough which erupted into a fit, which led to him needing to sit down, and a spew of blood out onto the handkerchief he'd held over his cough.

"Sh!t, you hurt yourself that bad charging through the door? You break a rib and puncture a lung or something?" Reed asked trying to keep things lighthearted.

"Cancer... progressive... in all my insides now by the way I'm feeling," Johnson said, struggling to stand, the fit clearly taking its toll. He fished through his pockets and produced a vial. He took out three pills, forced them down, and looked at Reed. "You don't want to know what these are..."

He began searching the house...

Back in the "basement" of the mechanic shop, a buzzer went off...

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