How Florida fends off its slippery, scaly invaders

As the pickup truck slowly bumps down the dirt road, radio static fills the cab. The scientists subdue their chit-chat and perk up their ears for the signal. Then, it comes. A muted chirp breaks the static. "There she is!" says Sarah Cooke, a graduate student on the University of Florida's Croc Docs wildlife research team.

“She” is number 858, an Argentine black and white tegu lizard nicknamed “Furiosa” by a former lab intern, for the way she flailed when the scientists first captured her and outfitted her with an electronic tracking backpack.

The chirps, sounding like drips from a leaky faucet, intensify as Ms. Cooke drives on. Another grad student on the team, Jenna Cole, periodically hops out and disappears into the scrubby poisonwood trees to check the small wire traps that the team uses to

Getting attentionEarly detection, rapid responseIn the field