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It feels like a crime pulling away from my woman’s sweet mouth, but work awaits. I turn on my computer, while Butch does the same with his. The room hums with the buzz of the equipment’s internal fans. I get to my feet and cross the room, hitting the buttons on our larger equipment. The machines turn over, thrumming to life when a harsh siren sounds off on all our computers.
Butch and I connect eyes from across the room before we spring into action. I yank the plug from the main computer, while Butch runs to read the alert on his monitor.
“Not good, Chase. We have a virus.”
“Fuck,” I race around the table toward my computer. Punk and Simone scramble out of my space. I dive into my seat, my fingers flying across my keyboard before I’m seated comfortably to tackle the problem.
As fast as I put up roadblocks to stop the virus from digging deeper into the system, the virus tunnels as fast, causing massive amounts of damage to our internal hardware and the firm’s intranet.
“How’s it looking on your end, Butch?”
“Fucking awful,” he grits through his teeth, his eyes and fingers never leaving his computer. “I can’t get ahead of the damn parasite.”
“Me neither.”
“What can I do?” Punk asks beside me.
“Go around the computers. Look for anything suspicious. Someone was tampering with our equipment, because this shit certainly didn’t come from our end of the system.”
Punk moves to the computer beside mine, his fingers running over all the surfaces.
“What are you doing?” Simone asks Punk.
“Checking the ports to see if anyone hooked anything up to the equipment,” he answers before moving on to the next computer.
Flustered, I let loose a string of curses as I work, chasing after the virus. My eyes are dry from trying not to blink in an attempt not to miss anything important crossing my screen.
As I work, I feel the warm grip of Simone’s hands on my shoulders. “You got this.” She can’t help at the moment, but her presence and encouragement spur me on.
Sweat builds on my brow as my fingers pick up the pace. My heart beats fitfully inside my chest, worried our team inadvertently let a virus loose into their software. It will be a miracle if I don’t suffer a heart attack from this experience.
“The virus hasn’t been able to penetrate through any of our system’s security walls yet, but it’s causing havoc to the firm’s security system,” Butch hollers from across the room.
“What about the added security we installed when we first started the case?” I ask, desperate for anything to give us some reprieve.
“Negative. Our shields held it off for a while, but it’s tunneled through the barriers like Swiss cheese and webbed out.”
Shit. This is bad.
“Do we have backup on the entire system?” Butch asks me.
“From when we shut down last night, yes. It’s probably the only thing that’s going to save our asses. But any business after we finish will be corrupted.”
“Chase!” Punk calls from the opposite end of the room. “I think I found something.”
“Describe it to me,” I order him, refusing to look away from my computer.
“Looks like a micro flash drive in the main computer.”
Makes sense to corrupt the biggest system. It’s what I’d do if I wanted to plant a software bug.
A controversial idea pops in my head. It’s a risk in its own right, but it should slow the virus if it doesn’t stop it altogether.
Sliding my chair down to the next computer, I holler, “Plug the main system back in when I tell you, Punk, and turn it on.”
“Has the alarm gone to your head, Chase?!” Butch chastises me. “You’re going to push the malware faster.”
“Gotta trust me, bro.” My fingers type out a code system unlike any I’ve drafted before. Butch isn’t wrong to question if I’ve fallen off my rocker. Creating something to do damage without testing the exact impact it could have is unwise.
