As the four of us walked into the main floor of the Montana FBI field office, it was clear that we weren't welcome. Not that I could blame them. Another team from another office taking over an investigation that had only just started? It'd piss me off too.
From the sea of evil eyes appeared the man I figured must be the Special-Agent-in-Charge. Tall, bald, African American, and a stance that screamed he ran this ship how he wanted to. He held out his hand “Philip Reddick.”
I shook his hand. “Nathan Taylor.” I gestured to my three colleagues. “This is Anna Durham, Mark Brundell and Seth Lincoln. What have we got?”
He pointed towards a door off the floor and down a corridor. “Not much. The evidence from the Fargo PD just arrived. No one's had a chance to look at it yet. However, we've gone over the robbery at Great Falls and we can't figure a damn thing out. Absolutely nothing on camera except money disappearing into thin air. Even forensics haven't found anything.” He stopped at a door and ushered us inside as he pulled it open. All five us us crammed into a small room with what amounted to a big television, a sweet sound system and a very complicated DVD player. Not the most sophisticated set-up I'd seen.
“Why don't you have a look?” Reddick said.
I nodded, he hit play and the five of us watched what could have been a static image of a bank vault, except the clock in the corner was counting off the long, painful seconds. Eventually the screen slightly wobbled and shortly afterwards a faint buzzing started to come through the speakers. Then the strangest thing of all; money just started disappearing, brick by paper brick.
“What the...?” muttered Brundell.
“Our reaction exactly,” Reddick admitted.
“What was that interruption?” I asked.
“The techs think it might be some sort of feedback, but that's with the sound levels cranked up to full. It was ages before anyone even noticed it. They haven't looked into it yet. Didn't want to do anything without your say-so.”