Antivirus (The Horde Series Book 1) (16 page)

“Sherrard?” Bolson asked in shock, feeling his world begin to crash in on itself, but desperately trying to maintain his sanity.

Alders nodded. “And a whole lot more, soldier,” he finished quietly.

Chapter 21

Red Lion Hotel, Helena, Montana:
Jon Sherrard walked down the hotel hallway, counting off the door numbers. Doctor Chavez had a suite, and he found it located at the far end of the hall. He hesitated for a moment before the door, considering everything he knew and what he was willing to divulge to the CDC rep. He knew the man would probably have a lot of questions for him; he had many himself and he didn’t even know how to ask them without sounding like a lunatic.

Finally, swallowing nervously, he knocked. A moment later, the door was unlocked and swung open and Sherrard found himself looking down the barrel of a gun.

“Ah, Mister Sherrard,” the man holding the weapon said, a heavy South American accent in his voice. “I see you got my message. Come in, come in,” he finished, stepping back to allow Sherrard to enter.

Sherrard wasn’t scared; just shocked. He knew immediately that he’d been set up, but seeing as he didn’t have much choice at the moment, he stepped into the room. His host moved to the side and let him pass, shutting the door behind him. Sherrard noticed that the weapon never once wavered from his head. He also saw that the handgun had a long silencer screwed into the barrel. This was not going to go well for him at all.

“So, I guess addressing you as Doctor Chavez is probably pointless,” he said evenly as he walked into the room.

“You presume correctly,” the man said, indicating a chair in the corner of the room. “Please, have a seat, Mister Sherrard.”

“Sure you don’t want me on the bed?” Sherrard replied drily. “Easier to clean up if you just wrap my body in the bed sheets.”

“You have a sense of humor,” the South American said with a wide smile. “I like that.”

Sherrard simply grunted and fell into the chair. The man pulled up another chair and sat it across from him. He then sat down himself, one leg casually crossed over the other, and laid the gun on the bed beside him. Sherrard didn’t kid himself. He knew it was bait to see what he would do, but he knew he would never have a chance if he went for the gun. Better to let things play out and at least see what the stranger wanted from him. However, the first question the man asked set him back on his heels a bit.

“How are you feeling, Mister Sherrard?” the South American asked.

“How am I feeling? Fine, I suppose,” he replied, trying to remain low key. To himself, he added,
for someone that just got bitten by a wolf and healed up so quickly and completely that he doesn’t even have a scar. I wonder if I can heal a bullet wound the same way?

“Good, good,” the man said, making small talk. “I suppose it was an amazing journey you were on. I wondered how quickly one would bounce back from that.”

“I…beg your pardon?” Sherrard was off-center now, confused at the direction the conversation was going in.

“Your journey,” the man said again, his voice relaxed and easy. “You know, the one where you entered cyberspace and did a demonstration for Systemtech before disaster struck and you were cast adrift in cyberspace?”

Sherrard’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?” he asked tentatively. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Marquis,” the man said, answering the second question first. “As to your first question, I know a great deal about what happened to you. I represent a group of investors that are very interested in your company’s technology and they have followed your exploits quite closely.”

Sherrard stared hard at the man as the understanding suddenly came to him. “It was you,” he said, biting back his sudden anger. “You killed Perry!”

At that, the South American laughed. “Ah, yes, our fine Mister Edwards,” he said with a smile that held no warmth. “Such a foolish man he turned out to be. But as to your accusation, no, I did not kill him. Turns out that I never got the opportunity. Certainly you know that to be true.”

Sherrard did know that. Perry had died demonstrating the equipment to enemies of the state and he also knew that the buyers were likely those that employed the killer that sat across from him. “So what do you want from me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. He had worked it out in his head fairly quickly. If the feds thought he was working with Perry, then it stood to reason that this foreign interest likely thought the same thing, and that made this meeting extremely dangerous to him. That also meant that no one had the tech yet and both sides would be looking in his direction. The situation, he realized, was getting worse by the minute.

“I think you know what I want,” the man answered calmly. “But I am curious if you will turn out to be as foolish as your friend, Mister Edwards.”

“Sorry, I don’t follow,” Sherrard answered.

“Obviously, my employers are seeking to complete the deal they began with Mister Edwards.”

“Perry’s dead,” Sherrard reminded him.

“But you are not,” the South American countered, a hard glint in his eyes. “Whether that continues, remains to be seen.”

“On what?”

“On whether you cooperate with me or not.”

“Look, I’m sitting here,” Sherrard snapped. “I’m answering your questions. I just don’t know what you want from me. I wasn’t part of Perry’s deal. I didn’t know a thing about it until I came out of my coma and they told me he was dead.”

“Interesting tale,” the man said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Then I suppose you had a different reason to kill Perry’s wife, Bethany.”

“What are you talking about?” Sherrard fumed. “I don’t know anything about Bethany’s death!”

“Now I know you’re lying to me, Mister Sherrard,” Marquis Chavandar said coldly, reaching over and picking up his gun. “I don’t like liars and I won’t tolerate another one told to me. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’m not lying,” Sherrard said, sticking to his story. “I don’t know who killed Bethany. I was home in bed when it happened.”

Chavandar raised his weapon and pointed it at Sherrard’s forehead. “Last chance,” he said softly.

“What do you want me to say?!” Sherrard nearly shouted. “I swear, I don’t know what happened to her. Why would you even think I had something to do with her death?”

“Because I saw you leave their home after her murder,” the assassin replied, narrowing his eyes and staring harder at Sherrard.

“You…what?” Sherrard stammered, clearly shocked at the revelation. “No. You couldn’t have.”

“I was watching their house,” Chavandar went on. “I saw you leave. I entered immediately after and found Miss Edwards where you left her. You either killed her or know who did.”

“Wait…no, I swear,” Sherrard went on, shaking his head. He felt sick inside. He knew he hadn’t killed Bethany, but why would this man lie to him about seeing him there? What could he possibly gain from it? “I swear, it wasn’t me,” he finished.

“You seriously don’t believe you did this, do you.” It was more of a statement than anything.

“No, I didn’t. You have to believe me. I don’t know why you would think I murdered her, but I swear I had nothing to do with it. Perry and Bethany were my friends. I may have been pissed off when I found out what Perry did, but I never would have hurt Bethany. Never.”

Chavandar leaned back in his chair and eyed the man critically. He had participated in many interrogations over his career. He knew when a man was lying and when he was telling the truth, and especially when he was simply saying anything to save his life. What he knew was that Sherrard had killed Bethany Edwards, or was present when she was killed. But he also was convinced that Sherrard truly believed he was innocent. Playing a hunch, he decided to try a different track.

“Mister Sherrard,” he said easily, “tell me about your visit to your doctor.”

“My…what?” Jon asked, clearly off balance again at the topic change.

“Your visit to Doctor Douglas,” Chavandar went on knowingly. “I have read through his report and you are due for outpatient surgery tomorrow, are you not? What are they looking for?”

“I…well, I…I don’t know,” Sherrard tried to answer. “Some kind of parasite, I guess. Why?”

“Do you believe you are infected with something?”

“How should I know?” he answered defensively. “Doc saw something on the X-ray and wants it biopsied so he can see what it is.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“I don’t have a clue,” he shrugged.

“Could you have brought it back with you from your travels?”

“My what?”

“Your journey into cyberspace,” the South American explained. “From the reports I have read, you encountered something alien. It frightened you and you attempted to hide. You made a break for it, first chance you had, and had the luck on your side that your co-worker was present to intercept your call for help.”

“Wait. How do you know all this?”

“I have considerable resources to get the information I need to complete an assignment,” was the answer. “I have read everything there is to know about what happened to you and everything that has been reported since. Your life, to me, is an open book.

“Do you know what else I think, Mister Sherrard?” Marquis Chavandar continued casually, purposefully lining up his gun barrel with Sherrard’s forehead. “I think you’re telling me the truth.”

“You do?” Sherrard was surprised at the admission.

“I do,” Chavandar answered. “But I’m afraid that won’t save you. As a matter of fact, I believe that makes you completely expendable now.”

“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.