Read Online Viral by James Lilliefors - Free Book Online Page A

details,’ you said.”
    “Yeah. But something happened.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I just do. I know my brother.” Jon Mallory looked away, worried suddenly that something had happened to Charlie, that he might be dead. “Anyway, I think I’m going to travel for a bit. Thinking about maybe taking a little trip to Saudi Arabia. See some of the sights.”
    Church tugged at one sleeve, then the other. “Joking?”
    “Partly.”
    Jon stood to go.
    “Oh, by the way, if you haven’t seen Melanie Cross’s blog from last night, you might take a look.”
    “Okay,” Jon said, wincing. “Thanks, Roger, as always.”
    Jon left the door a third of the way open, as Church liked. His heart began to race as he walked down the hallway, thinking about Melanie’s blog, which he had avoided looking at today. He returned to his closet-sized office, booted the computer, hit his “Favorites” button. Clicked open her site. “Cross Currents,” she called it. In large letters under the name, in case anyone missed the pun, was her byline: “By Melanie Cross.”
    He skimmed through her entry from the night before. This one seemed pretty straightforward: a Federal Trade Commission insider’s reaction to the proposed merger of a major online ad-serving company with one of the world’s largest search engines—a story she’d been covering in the newspaper. But then Jon’s eyes drifted to the bottom of the entry, to her “Etc.” section, and he saw what Roger was talking about:
    “… And, on the West Coast, software pioneer Perry Gardner is reportedly less than pleased with the assertions that the Gardner Foundation’s investment policies in Africa are somehow in conflict with its mission
.
    “An associate of Gardner is reportedly considering a point-by-point rebuttal of assertions in journalist Jon Mallory’s
Weekly American
blog last week, but is still counting to ten
.
    “J.M.—who, in the interest of full disclosure, is an acquaintance—promised some ‘new details’ in his blog today. But sources speculate that these ‘details’ may be delayed. We’ll stay tuned.”
    Mallory felt a chill race through him.
“May be delayed.”
Who would have told her that? Did she make it up? An
“acquaintance?”
He picked up the office phone and started punching in her number, but then stopped, remembering that he was supposed to be mad at her.
    Instead, he went back to the computer screen to search for flights to Saudi Arabia.

Summer’s Cove, Oregon
    Douglas Chase still felt a rumble of apprehension every time he made the journey to the waiting room in Building 67. It was a privilege, of course, to be summoned. But he had made this journey so many times that it seldom felt that way to him anymore.
    It wasn’t only the inconvenience—the absurd layers of security and secrecy and the wait, which could surpass an hour. It was also the man himself: a cold, complicated person who rarely showed gratitude to the people closest to him. A man he was to refer to only as the “Administrator.”
    The Administrator had done some nice things for Douglas Chase, paying him handsomely over the years for carrying out what had often seemed routine negotiations. He had also praised him in ways that no one else had. That was how the Administrator hooked people: he made them feel special. That had stopped some time ago, and yet the man still had an inexplicable hold over him.
    When the door to the Administrator’s office finally slid open, Douglas Chase stood and his apprehension evaporated.
    He silently took a seat in front of the familiar desk and waited. His boss was reading a report. He would not look up or speak for seven minutes.
    Finally, the Administrator showed his thin, flat smile.
    “I need you to arrange for an unusual payment.”
    “All right,” Chase said.
    “It has to be completed quickly. Before October 5. You’ll have to deal with your fellow in Johannesburg on this.”
    “All right. A payment to whom?”
    “Isaak