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Scotty asked. Preston smiled. "Quite a character, isn't he? Normally he's a Forest Ranger. At the moment he's on loan to me, serving as my outside security officer. He did a good piece of work, getting that license number. We'll hand it to the FBI bureau in Las Vegas and they'll take it from there." "He must have had advance information, to be at the right spot to get it," Rick observed.

I'm directing the FBI and other investigative agencies to target gangs that involve juveniles in violent crime, and to seek authority to prosecute as adults teenagers who maim and kill like adults. And I challenge local housing authorities and tenant associations: Criminal gang members and drug dealers are destroying the lives of decent tenants.

What made the plan difficult was that it had to be done publicly, and in such a way that it wouldn't interfere with police activities. The boys met with Taylor, the FBI agent. He was a good-natured young man who might have been a lawyer, but under the attractive grin and ready chuckle, Rick could sense that Taylor could be a very tough man indeed if need be.

Taylor, the FBI agent, removed the apparatus from his head; Rick recognized him in the blue glow. "We found your other head underneath the ice cream in your scooter," he said conversationally. "In the false bottom. We also found your Geiger counter. Any comments?" The Frostola man had recovered somewhat from the shock of his capture. "What can I say?" he demanded.

I ask the Congress for authority to hire 100 more. These young men will give special attention to this drug abuse, too. Finally, I ask you to add 100 FBI agents to strengthen law enforcement in the Nation and to protect the individual rights of every citizen. A moment ago I spoke of despair and frustrated hopes in the cities where the fires of disorder burned last summer.

"Spies!" Zimby exclaimed. "What do we do now?" piped up Mack Avery, the third man in Bud's crew. "Hadn't we better radio the Coast Guard and the FBI?" Bud wrenched away from the eyepiece. "I have another idea! Any of you fellows game to go with me and capture those spies?" All three of his companions volunteered eagerly. Bud chose Mel Flagler, then took another sight through the periscope.

Bright of the Navy, a thin man with a huge Adam's apple, allowed it to bob three times in deference to the startling nature of Brent's statement. Pender of the Army raised one eyebrow and let it fall. To a keen observer, Hagen of the FBI would have revealed prior knowledge by reacting not at all. His mind was on the kid. He was thinking, Christ!

"With the FBI. They put agents on the case and found out Lefty had been in touch with the Soviet Embassy in Washington, through a third secretary whose function it is to gather various kinds of scientific intelligence. We're not absolutely certain, but it looks very much as though Lefty plans to sell his data tapes to the Soviets." "So that's why JANIG has moved into the case," Scotty concluded.

"You two have done a fine day's work." After the prisoners had been locked up to be handed over to the FBI, the two Beach Patrol officers drove Bud and Mel back to the area where they had landed. Just as the jeep turned down the dirt road leading to the shore, Bud's keen eyes spotted a lurking figure in the distance. "Stop, please!" Bud said, tapping the driver on the shoulder.

A former director of the FBI has told us that in New York, for example, the number one recruiting target for organized crime is the teenage computer whiz. We think that this "hacking," writ large in the private sector, must be assumed as part of the defense problem.