Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1)

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Authors: Michael Koogler
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stream of bureaucratic retards bumbling through his lab and pestering him with questions that any 6th grader with an X-box could answer. They would simply have to accept the fact that he was one of the world’s leading experts on cyber warfare, virus creation, and security.
    What he didn’t know, though, was that his secret was out.
    He entered the room and was surprised to find several others already seated, as if they had been waiting for him. The meeting wasn’t for fifteen more minutes, but Major Bolson was always early for meetings as he felt it gave him an edge, regardless of the meeting circumstances. This time, however, he was immediately uneasy, and for good reason.
    “Close the door, major,” General James Hawthorne said, his voice clipped and formal. His blue eyes, set in a craggy but stern face, were cold and bored relentlessly into the young officer.
    Bolson swallowed the sudden rise of concern and did what he was commanded. He then took a seat across from the general and placed his hands lightly on the table as he looked around the room. Besides his superior officer—who was directly in charge of the entire U.S. cyber warfare division and answered to only to the head of the NSA—there were two others. One was wearing a dark suit—a rugged looking man with features that could have been carved out of stone. Bolson had no idea who he was, although he pegged him for NSA muscle. The other was Lieutenant Danielle Martz, a young and brilliant computer programmer whose expertise had lent him considerable talent and knowledge in the project he had been working on for the better part of his three years here as a cyber warfare specialist.
    “Major Bolson,” Hawthorne said gruffly as he opened up a file folder that was on the table before him. Picking up a piece of paper, he slid it across the table to the young officer. “Would you care to explain this?”
    Bolson felt himself go red with anger, his fears confirmed. He didn’t need to see the paper to know what it said. He also knew there was only one way the general could have gotten the information, and that fact made him even angrier. “Sir,” he began, casting a venomous glance at Lieutenant Martz, who quickly looked down at the table top, unable or unwilling to meet his gaze.
    Hawthorne held up a hand. “Save the excuses for later, son,” he snapped. “I want it explained.”
    Bolson swallowed thickly and nodded. “It’s an anomaly, sir,” he answered, holding his anger in check. “At this point, we have no idea what the cause is or if it is even a correct reading.”
    Hawthorne tapped his finger on the paper. “You damn well better find the cause, major. This is a project of unparalleled magnitude and if we don’t have control over this, we have a very serious problem. Would you agree?”
    “We have control, sir,” the young man lied, but the general cut him off.
    “Then where the hell is it?” he snapped.
    Bolson paused before answering, dreading the words even as he spoke them. “I don’t know yet, sir.”
    “You don’t know.”
    “No, sir.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because I’m still running tests and trying to ascertain the cause, sir,” Bolson answered, his fingers pressing painfully into the tabletop. “It could simply be a recoding of the transmission algorithm.”
    “But you don’t know for certain,” Hawthorne shouted angrily, leaning across the table. “You haven’t had contact with it for almost two weeks and all you have is a friggen’ guess! Why the hell wasn’t I notified of this!?”
    Bolson flushed. “I thought it best to ascertain the cause of the anomaly first, sir,” he said through clenched teeth. Truthfully, when the project had vanished, he had been quite terrified to inform the general of such a breach of security, and thus had launched his own frantic search for the missing program. A week into his 18 hour-a-day search, Lieutenant Martz had gotten wind of it. Bolson had sworn her to secrecy and, with her

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