Buzzworm (A Technology Thriller): Computer virus or serial killer? Read Online Free Page B

anger and revenge filling his empty days.
    Roger swallowed, then shuddered slightly. He was paying off an unusually large fine by doing computer consulting out of his cell for eScape - but he didn't want to rock the boat.
    "This is a joke, right? Or have you got a prison break planned? By the way, if anyone is listening in, that was only meant as gallows humor."
    “You’re a laugh a minute, Strange. Langley called . . .”
    "Shit.” He sat down.” He had written a program for the CIA two years before, clearly the biggest project of his career. It taught him more about modern high-tech security than just about anyone on the planet. It also taught him how to break into highly classified computer networks, which was the reason he was getting his room and board paid for by the Canadian government.
    "They sound desperate. Desperate enough to pull out all the diplomatic stops and make a deal with their northern neighbors to have you sprung."
    "If this is a joke, Burhack, your dishwasher parts guy is going to find that his inventory has been automatically FedEx’d to Lithuania." Half of him wanted to jump up and hoot. Freedom was something he tried not to think about lately. The idea of breathing fresh air made him dizzy. Another part of him, the harder chunk that sitting in a jail cell had honed over the past year, was humming like a fire alarm about to go off. This didn’t feel right at all. This felt like a trap. He didn’t know why, it just did.
    Burhack continued. “Your lawyer called me an hour ago. He'll have the papers drawn up by the end of tomorrow. Finish this job and you get a full release and pardon. Plus one hundred an hour for the work you do to solve their problem. And I've already got your flight booked."
    "And what's in it for you?" he asked, always feeling she only worked with him because she knew he was the best and she could charge more because of his notoriety. He sensed deep down that she thought he was just another con with the morals of a flatworm.
    "Four hundred an hour," she confessed. "For putting up with you this past year, I deserve it." She was right. This work had helped him keep his sanity, but had strained hers to the breaking point. He was not easy to get along with under the best of circumstances. Good thing he was so damn good at what he did.
    When he got off the phone, he stood up and stretched, waiting for the call from his lawyer. His paranoia was beginning to evaporate. He was almost beginning to feel good - feeling in demand by the big boys and at the top of his form, despite being locked up like a rabid dog. Finally, some of that experience was going to pay off. But something gnawed at him. She had said they had a virus. That had to mean it had found its way through the CIA's security system that he had helped design personally. And that was impossible. More impossible than anyone could imagine.
     

CHAPTER 3
     
    Frank Scammel’s so fat now he’s straining the seams of his circa ‘82 Grateful Dead T-shirt.
    He’s losing his hair, his back hurts all the time, and he can feel a tingle in his wrists he knows is the onset of carpal tunnel syndrome. But he’s got a hard-on so fierce it makes him feel like he’s sixteen again, so he doesn’t give a shit. The fact that his occupation, even though it’s one of those ‘knowledge-worker’ buzz-crap jobs, is killing him slowly, doesn’t seem to matter right now. Like anything matters. Maybe having his boss walk in on him right now, might matter. But at two AM? How likely is that? Although it wouldn’t surprise him to know she was still in the building.
    Frank had found the mother lode, and it made his hands shake. He had been tracking down a system intruder for the past few weeks, his own private project, and he’d finally struck gold. A telltale address left in a deleted file that shouldn’t be there. An address that didn’t make sense, unless of course you were a hacker trying to hide your trail.
    Frank had gone to the