The front door bell rang and broke the intense silence. It rang again as Sonja went to answer.
"Yes, he's here," she whispered.
The door opened and Tyrone Duncan came into the room while anoth- er man stood at the door. Tyrone walked up to Miles. Scott was in absolute awe. How the hell? Ty had said tomorrow.
"Mr. Foster? Miles Foster?" Tyrone asked without pleasantries.
"Yeah," Miles said haughtily.
"FBI," Ty said flashing his badge. "You're under arrest for trafficking in stolen computer access cards and theft of serv- ice." Tyrone took a breath and waved a piece of paper in the air. "We searched your apartment and found telephone company access codes that . . . "
"I want to call my lawyer," Miles interrupted calmly. "Now," he commanded.
" . . . have been used to bypass billing procedures."
"I said I want to call my lawyer," Miles again said emphatical- ly.
"I'll be out in an hour," he said aside to Stephanie and kissed her on the cheek. His arrogance was unnerving; this wasn't the same Miles that Scott had known in Amsterdam. There, he was just another misguided but well-intentioned techno-anarchist who was more danger to himself than anyone else. But now, as Tyrone read a list of charges against him, mostly arcane FBI domain inter- state offenses, Miles took on a new character. A worldly crimi- nal whom the FBI was arresting for potential terrorist activi- ties.