She tapped an index finger against her chin idly, her expression unchanging.
"I've been working on it. These guys aren't so hard to find, once you know where to look for them; it's the tailing 'em that's the hard part. They tend to be wise to that kind of thing." Tap, tap. Her tone was conversational, as though they were discussing something no weightier than the weather, but her eyes were sharp and watchful. "As best I can tell, our mysterious Men in Black make their base in Washington DC. The actual building has a pesky habit of moving around a bit - you know how it is with these mythical places - but I'm betting their internet connection is real enough."
She leaned forward slowly, meaningfully. "Here's the thing. Big Brother isn't calling any of the shots here. These guys don't answer to the President or the Illuminati or some secret alien overlords, that's fantasy. You and I both know it. There is no big conspiracy. Just these strange little god-things, these... twisted little superstitions made flesh - and the voice of the people."
The corner of her mouth curled upwards. "I don't know about you, but I think we can find them a better boss than that. I mean, just think about it: All this manpower, and right now it's going to waste on losers in trailer parks. Can you believe that? Now me, I can think of one or two better uses for 'em... how about you?"