Page 140 of Agency

“It means, we’re sending a whole lot of data somewhere else, and not just deleting files.”

“Where to?”

“No idea. I could try to look it up, I guess. But, I’ll be honest with you, scary military dude, I’m probably not going to be able to magically discover it like on the TV shows. If they have the know-how to program a virus that does all of this, they’re probably also smart enough to use plenty of proxy servers along the way to the destination IP.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Means I’d be SOL and spinning my wheels.”

“Shit,” I breathed, my stomach sinking as I began to understand what she was showing me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Whatever was on that USB isn’t doing what you think it’s doing, my dude.”

“No. No, it’s not.” I touched my com and tried to signal out to the team, straightening from where I’d leaned over to better examine the monitor. “Bravo? Bravo One? Alpha? Ambyr or Jericho? You read me?”

Nothing. Just static.

The little IT girl tugged on my sleeve, enough to get my attention, but not nearly enough to make me think she was trying to make a play for my weapon.

My eyes went to hers.

“Faraday cage, dude,” she said. “Got a full one around the servers, but a partial one covering this bunker, too. Double the fun.”

“Shit,” I said, wincing. “Fuck.” I looked to the stairs, then back to the IT girl.

“Where’s your purse?”

“Uh… under the desk. Why?”

I dropped and snatched up her bag, dropping it on the desk in front of me. I pulled out her wallet before she could react.

“Hey,” she said, reaching for my hands as I withdrew her Minnesota ID from the plastic sleeve inside, “give that back!”

Tossing the wallet back in front of her, I glanced over the information on her license.

“Sally Schmidt,” I said, reading off the card and talking fast. “Says here your permanent address is in St. Paul. Since you’re fresh out of college and implied you’re living out here on the Angle, I’m going to assume this is your parents’ address.” I held up her ID for a second, then made a show of tucking the card away in my hip pocket. “Now, Sally, I’m going to tell you what to do, and I want to know you’re going to follow my orders. That’s the only reason I’m going to hold onto your ID. Understand? Because if I get out of this, and I find an obituary for you, or a missing person’s notice, I’m going to show up at your parents’ house and take out my frustration with you… on them.”

“What orders?” she asked, blood draining from her face.

“Sally… I’m going back up to the barn to contact my friends and let them know what’s happening down here, then likely go join them. I want you to count to five, then you need to gather your shit and get off this property. Understood? Don’t drive out, though. I want you to walk straight east through the woods until you hit the lake’s shore, then head north until you find the township. Hear me? Because, like I said, Iwillvisit the Schmidt residence in St. Paul and take out my frustration on your parents.”

“Uh… What if something happens? And it’s not my fault?”

“Nothing will happen if you follow my instructions, okay? Head for the lake. Once there, go left. No matter what you hear, or what happens, you keep going. Understood? Don’t look back, don’t stop.”

Chewing on her lip and eyes full of uncertainty, she nodded rapidly. “I understand. Totally understand.”

“Good.” I turned to go.

“Hey!” she shouted, her voice nearly cracking with fear.

“What?” I asked, not bothering to turn around.

“W-w-what about the people I work for?”

“Consider this your pink slip,” I said, heading for the stairs. “The Agency’s shutting its doors.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine