Meg Stratford parked her car half a block away and watched the injured man disappear inside the townhouse. Her mind raced as she tried to puzzle out what she'd just seen. Eventually, when she felt she had no other choice, she pulled out her cell and dialed a number.

A woman's voice came on the line. "HQ. Please provide your identification."

"Stratford, Meg. 3592BFHS," Meg said.

"Voice print verified," the woman said. "What is your status?"

"Surveillance," ...