Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1)

by Michael Koogler

  “Wait, wait, wait!” Sherrard said loudly, raising his hands defensively. “You don’t need to kill me!”

  “Actually, Mister Sherrard, I do. You see, left alive, you are simply a loose end now with no value to me or my employers. You’re dangerous and unpredictable.”

  “No, I’m not,” Jon pleaded. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “It’s what you don’t know that interests me now,” Chavandar replied. “I believe you when you say you had nothing to do with Mister Edwards’ foolish double-cross of my employers. I believe you when you say you are innocent in the killing of Bethany Edwards. But I believe there is more to you than any of us understands at the moment.”

  “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

  “I cannot let you go in for that biopsy,” Chavandar explained. “I cannot take the chance that you will end up under government quarantine when they find out what is happening to you.”

  “Wait! What do you mean by that? What is happening to me?!”

  “Good-bye, Mister Sherrard,” Chavandar said calmly.

  The Venezuelan shot him in the head.

  Chapter 22

  FutureTek Headquarters, Helena, Montana: The two figures moved quickly and silently between the two buildings, hurrying around to the back of the company’s office. Dan Hyde, security expert for Systemtech and Michael Monroe’s right hand man, had a wide variety of skills, not all of them related to sitting behind a desk. Tonight’s particular skill set required him to break into FutureTek’s offices and obtain the technical specifications that Monroe so desperately wanted to have.

  Monroe had been stonewalled in his attempts to get Homeland Security Agent Rick Alders to sign off on the document transfer while the investigation into Perry Edwards’ treasonous crime continued. Monroe thought it simple posturing on the agent’s part. But Hyde knew that it was more to Alders’ advantage to sit on the tech and see if something, or someone, would shake loose in his investigation. So while Monroe played his chess game with Homeland Security, he and his team of four were set to infiltrate FutureTek’s offices and simply take what was rightfully theirs.

  FutureTek was a small company on the cusp of the biggest technological breakthrough since the advent of the atomic bomb, if one were to believe the hype. However, Systemtech was one of the major players in the technology and security field—an industry giant worth billions, and with as many toys as Hyde needed to accomplish his job.

  To him, their mission was a simple one.

  “Status check,” a female voice spoke clearly in his ear. It was Parnell. Hyde rarely bothered with her first name of Sasha. He was just glad to have her working the van. It would be her handiwork that got them the information they sought. She would just need the hard access they would be able to provide her.

  Hyde activated his throat mic. “We’re in place, mobile one,” he whispered, as his companion went to work on the keypad that locked down FutureTek’s back door. “Sixty seconds.”

  “Roger that,” Parnell replied. “Standing by for override.”

  Hyde watched silently as the man with him set his “lock breaker” rig in place and then slid the magnetic card through the reader slot. Chucky Aulenbach was his hardware specialist. The man knew every item on Systemtech’s equipment docket, as well as those they did not list for various reasons. He was a former CIA spook and had been on more ops, both with the agency and with Systemtech, than any other individual in the company. Hyde trusted him completely. The red light above the slot blinked once, then twice, and then went green and the door clicked open.

  “We’re in,” he said, and the two of them slipped into the darkened hallway and pulled the door shut behind them.

  Hyde and his team, including his new van driver, Mullens, had memorized the entire layout of FutureTek’s small headquarters. Each of them knew their role in the op and, as Chucky immediately set off for the mainframe, Hyde went directly to Drew Jackson’s office. Once Chucky had Parnell plugged into the mainframe, she would do a full data dump into the mobile mainframe in the van. Then, depending on the size of the data stream, it would take anywhere from 15 minutes to a couple hours to know whether they had their prize. Meanwhile, Hyde would access Jackson’s personal desktop and do a manual search for anything that might catch his eye. He and Parnell had a bet that he would find the schematics on Jackson’s personal computer before she found it in the data dump. He always figured that work, even illegal work, should be fun, as well as profitable.

  The lock on Jackson’s door took him less than two minutes to bypass and, as he slipped into the man’s office, Chucky’s voice came over his headpiece.

  “Mainframe access in three minutes,” he said tonelessly.

  “Roger that,” Parnell answered. “Receptacles are ready for dump.”

  “You said fifteen minutes,” Hyde whispered over the system as he hurried over to Jackson’s desk.

  “Sasha’s cutting me in for half when she wins the bet,” Chucky replied.

  “Double or nothing,” Hyde dared to challenge as he sat down in Drew’s chair and fired up the desktop. The triple monitors flared to life, and he quickly inserted a thumb drive into one of the machine’s USB ports.

  “Deal,” Parnell replied over the system. “Never been one to turn down easy money, especially when my boss is handin’ it out.”

  Hyde’s latex-gloved fingers flew over the keyboard as the Systemtech program broke down the security barriers protecting the machine. In seconds, he was accessing the hidden email files that Drew Jackson had locked away to protect his own personal secrets.

  “Mainframe access engaged,” Chucky reported less than two minutes later. “She’s all yours, mobile one.”

  “Disengage when you’re done,” Hyde said as he quickly scanned e-mail after e-mail and the picture of what was truly happening began to clear up for him. “Get back to the van and help.”

  “You sound like you’re giving up, boss.”

  “Nothing like that,” he replied. “I just hit the mother lode. This guy’s in really deep. Home plate is going to want to see this.” He began uploading the decrypted files to the thumb drive and was nearly done when there was a surprised intake of breath over the com. It was quickly cut off.

  “What was that?” Chucky asked, concern in his voice.

  “Sounded like Parnell,” Hyde replied, temporarily forgetting his ban on names over the com. Looking up from the current document on the screen, he said, “Mobile one, you copy?”

  There was no answer.

  “Mobile one, status check,” he said.

  Again, there was no answer.

  “Chucky, get out there and see what’s up.”

  “Copy that.”

  Hyde closed the document, missing the one bit of information that would have completely changed the game, and switched to the download status on the thumb drive. He checked his watch. Less than five minutes remaining on the download. He knew he could abort and they could simply go after the files in the dump. But he also knew that there was always the potential for data loss when the receptacles took that much information all at once. At least with the files on the thumb drive, he knew they would be whole and uncorrupted. He could take them directly to Monroe while their techs sifted through the rest of the data, and Monroe could get the right government agencies involved in taking down Jackson. He found that he wasn’t really that surprised to discover that Jackson was the driving force behind Perry Edwards’ deception the whole time.

  “Status check,” he said over the com as the transfer was finishing up.

  Once again, silence greeted him.

  “Chucky, what’s going on out there?” he asked, suddenly feeling annoyed. He hoped they weren’t dealing with a com glitch. The units they had were supposed to be state-of-the-art. “Chucky?” he asked again.

  When no reply came, he counted down from nine as the transfer completed and then quickly shut down the system and removed the drive. Slipping it into a wrist pouch, he left the
room and hurried back down the hall. The back door was open and he paused only for a moment before he realized how much trouble he was in. It was long enough for the blow to catch him in the back of the head, sending him crashing to the floor. Blackness took him and he knew no more.

  When Dan Hyde came to several hours later, he could taste blood in his mouth and hear the soft lap of water somewhere nearby. But he saw only blackness and realized that it was because he had been blindfolded. He tried to move and quickly discovered that his hands and feet had been immobilized. He moved a little more, testing his bonds. They didn’t give an inch.

  “Don’t bother,” a voice that he recognized said softly from nearby. “Zip cuffs don’t have any give in them.”

  A moment later, Drew Jackson pulled the hood from his head, letting Hyde see what was going on. His pulse began to race as he took it all in. He was in the van, strapped to the driver’s seat command chair. It had been turned around to face the back, so he could see what his fate would be. Two members of his team were there, but it didn’t look like they would be getting up. Both were dead. Chucky lay crumpled against the back van doors, the side of his head caved in. There was surprisingly very little blood, but his eyes were open and unseeing. The crowbar that had caused the fatal injury lay discarded at his feet. Sasha was next to him, a garrote still knotted tightly about her neck, a thick line of blood welled up all along the cord where it was imbedded in her flesh. There was no sign of Mullens.

  “Bet you didn’t think a backwater country hick had it in him, did ya?” Jackson asked, reaching forward from his position in the passenger seat and slapping Hyde in the face.

  “Where…where are we?” he mumbled, shaking his head and still trying to make sense of everything. He had a terrific headache from the blow that had knocked him out—likely a concussion. But judging by the predicament he was in, he didn’t think that was going to matter much in the end.

  “Upper Holter Lake,” Jackson answered. “Not much up here at all. Pretty desolate, especially at night. Perfect resting place for you and your pals.”

  The Systemtech security expert turned fearful eyes on him. “What are you doing?” he asked in a shaky voice. “Why would you do this?”

  “Well, gee, bub, what do you think?” Jackson laughed, but there was no humor in it. “What did you think I would do when I found out you were coming to snoop around?”

  “But, you couldn’t have found out.”

  “You really think you have this all figured out, don’t you?” Jackson smiled, looking at him expectantly. “Put two and two together, have you?”

  “I…but we…,” he stammered, drawing only more laughter from his captor.

  “You, my soon-to-be-dead friend, were set up.”

  At that moment, Mullens stuck his head in the window and cast a withering glance at Hyde before looking back to Jackson. “Boss wants to know when we’ll be done.”

  “Couple minutes,” Jackson replied, still maintaining his cat-ate-the-canary grin. “I just want to make sure Hyde goes swimming, knowing what went down. It’s the least I can do for him since he was such a prick during the tech demonstration.”

  “Mullens?” Hyde asked in disbelief. “How could you be working for this guy? You’ve been on Systemtech’s payroll for years!”

  “I still am,” the driver said with a toothy smile. “Same as you.”

  “But…”

  “Still not putting it together, Hyde?” Jackson interrupted and then shook his head and snorted. “Monroe set you up, boy. Simple as that.”

  “No, that’s not possible.”

  “What, you don’t think that your boss hasn’t orchestrated this whole thing?”

  “I don’t…understand.”

  “It’s Monroe, boy,” Jackson said, reaching out and slapping Hyde in the face again. “He’s pulling the strings with the buyer. Has been since day one. Perfect opportunity to fatten our personal accounts and jack up Systemtech stock at the same time. And if Sherrard hadn’t screwed the pooch during the demonstration, this deal would have been done and no one would have known any different. Hell, you might even still be alive and none the wiser.”

  Daniel Hyde could have cried, had he not been so thoroughly shocked at the admission. It was almost too much to believe, but somehow, he knew it was all true. He knew Michael Monroe to be ruthless and cunning in everything he did, and eliminating problems was never anything he would ever shy away from. If Jackson had been in bed with Monroe the entire time, then it all made perfect sense. Monroe could set himself up like never before and maintain full control of Systemtech. Jackson would have a cushy job in the buyout, if he chose to even work. His cut of both deals would certainly make sure he didn’t have to.

  “What about Perry Edwards?” he managed to find the voice to ask.

  “Edwards was just the courier,” Jackson shrugged. “Good tech knowledge, but really kind of stupid. When I laid out what he could make off this deal, he lapped it up without asking questions. And Bethany was pretty hot, too. Too bad she bought it.” Jackson opened the door and stepped out of the van. He closed it and leaned back in the open window. “But what are you gonna do, right?” he said with a wink. “There’s still Jon Sherrard’s wife.”

  “Wait…”

  “Good-bye, Mister Hyde,” Drew Jackson said, stepping away and offering a mock salute.

  “Wait!” Hyde shouted as Mullens reached in on the driver’s side and shifted the van into neutral. It immediately began rolling forward.

  “Wait!” Hyde screamed one more time as the vehicle plowed into the water. It began sinking immediately, water pouring into the open windows, sending it deeper. Daniel Hyde tried to scream again as the water closed over his head. And then he saw only blackness.

  From the lake bank, Jackson watched the van sink out of sight. He doubted it would ever be found and really didn’t care one way or another. He didn’t plan on sticking around after the deals were done anyway. But there were still some loose ends to tie up.

  “We done here?” Mullens asked, walking up to him and watching the bubbles continue to break the surface as the van rolled deeper into the lake.

  “Almost,” Jackson said, pulling a Glock from his waistband. “Just need to take care of you.” He put a bullet in Mullens’ head before the man even processed what he had said.

  After Mullens’ body stopped twitching, Jackson rolled him to the edge of the water, being careful not to get any blood or brain matter on him. Then, with a final push of his foot, he sent the body into the lake. It wouldn’t go as deep as the van, but he was confident the body would go a long time before being found. A moment later, Mullens sank out of sight.

  Turning around, Jackson headed back to the car he had parked back on the gravel road, when he had followed Mullens in the van out to the lake. He looked at his watch. Still plenty of time to get back into town and get ready for the next phase.

  It was almost over, and for that he was grateful. They just had a few more loose ends to tie up and then he could get paid. Monroe could do whatever he wanted with FutureTek. He didn’t care. He planned on living the rich life in some non-extradition country, in case anyone ever unearthed his involvement, although that seemed pretty unlikely. And if he played his cards right, maybe he’d even get the chance to bed Jen Sherrard before he left—or if not her, then that know-it-all bitch, Kat Hale. He’d be happy to have a go at either one of them, or both of them, if it all worked out.

  But first things first. He still had a final role to play back in town.

  Chapter 23

  Forest Vale Cemetery, Helena, Montana: Jon Sherrard stumbled through shadows and fell to his knees, the hard edge of a tombstone splitting the skin on his right shin. The cut was deep and began to bleed profusely, but was relatively minor compared to the wounds in his head, and his fractured thoughts worked frantically to keep him on his feet. Part of him wanted to collapse and die. He should be dead. He knew he should be dead. But something else kept driving him forward, a f
oreign presence in his mind that had manifested itself fully in his time of need, desperate and determined to keep him alive.

  Wiping the blood out of his eyes, he continued forward, driven by something he did not understand; something that was not him. The hole in his forehead still leaked fluid, but it was the cavernous wound in the back of his head where the bullet had exited that was more concerning. The presence in his body had been working hard to repair him, a writhing nest of alien-like filaments protruding from his exposed brain and working on rebuilding it, one cell at a time. He thought that should alarm him, even repulse him, but something told him it was natural, just as his assimilation of lesser life forms seemed natural.

  Because the healing process required the absorption of organic matter to fuel it, he had fed immediately on a shocked and horrified Marquis Chavandar, some dark part of his broken mind making certain the man remained alive while Sherrard harvested his organs, before ending with his heart and brain and finally killing him. The man had not been able to scream and alert anyone, since Sherrard had expertly extracted the assassin’s vocal cords almost immediately. For the assassin, it had been a truly horrible way to die, and Sherrard had used all of him. But the killer’s body would not be enough. Sherrard would need more to continue the rebuilding process. He must survive.

  As luck would have it, he heard a low moan from deeper in the cemetery grounds and that enabled him to quickly refocus his thoughts. The moan was human and not of grief, but of pleasure. Sherrard began shuffling toward it, trying to take precautions and mask his steps. But the damage to his brain was extensive and he stumbled often. Fortunately, his targets were plenty preoccupied and never heard him coming.

  He stumbled around a large tombstone and stopped, his eyes taking in the scene. A blanket had been spread out between two headstones and a particularly amorous couple was fully engaged with each other, oblivious to the world around them. Their clothes were scattered around, tossed aside haphazardly. Sherrard knew they would not need them again.