Free Buzzworm (A Technology Thriller): Computer virus or serial killer? by Theo Cage Page B

security we have. That makes it invisible on the network. But somehow, Buzzworm did. I was hoping …” She didn’t seem to know how to finish. Roger seemed to sink in on himself. His failure to see everything felt like a physical blow.
    “I’ve just started, Med. Give me a day or two. This isn’t just a job to me, you know.”
    “A day or two is all we have. And it isn’t just a job for me either.” Med stood at this point, the empty teacup and spoon in her hand. She was heading back to work. "But before you go, I need one favor." Med hesitated and then sat down again.
    Roger finished the last gulp of his coffee. "I need some more information about your friend. I need a name.”
    Med couldn’t hide the look of surprise. “For what?”
    “Hey, I understand this is personal for you. But if I’m looking for imagery in the system that might be the basis for that video you witnessed …”
    Med moved closer to him and whispered. “Roger. If you find any part of that video. Even a fraction. You’ve got to promise me you won’t release it.”
    Roger squinted at her. “You mean, don’t even show Jo?”
    She bit her lip. Then she put her right hand in front of his face and curved her pinky finger at him. He stared at the finger. “Don’t betray the code of the coder’s,” she said, her warm breath on his face.
    Roger stared at her for a moment, frozen. The pinky ring swear. He hadn’t seen that since he was eight or nine. When he had real fingers. He raised his right hand in a fist. He released his smallest finger, the shortest, the most damaged. She stared at it, fascinated, but unbothered. He took her pinky in his. “Easy for you,” was all he said, and Med smiled again. A secret kind of smile. A code of the coder’s smile.
    She sat back, looking relieved, and gathered up her cup and spoon to return to the wash-up station. She let out a long held breath of air. “His name is David Xavier. With an X. Owns a company here in DC that works with the military. I have no idea why Buzzworm would know him. We’ve only been going out for a few months.” She stood up. She seemed to have a second thought. “Nothing that serious, you know.” She shrugged.
    As they left the cafeteria, Roger had one more thought. “Did you tell him? What you saw?”
    She stopped and stared at him. “No. Partly for reasons of CIA confidentiality.”
    “And the other part?”
    She waited until another group had passed them in the hall. “I don’t think he would care. I’m not sure why I think that. He is just not a tech type. He’s a purely political animal. A businessman. He reads Forbes, not Wired.”
    Roger accepted the answer, although he couldn’t imagine someone not being interested in such a sophisticated ploy designed to play with people’s heads. They continued down the hall to the elevator bank.
    At the elevators, Med turned to him, her arms crossed. “By the way, you asked before why this building is so cold? Because when it was built, the contractor asked how many staff would be working here, so they could plan the heating and cooling. The CIA said it was confidential, so the contractor had to guess. He guessed wrong.” She smiled again. “Just another sacrifice we make for national security. It’s worse now because of Buzzworm . But its never been right.”
    Roger just nodded, suddenly feeling naïve and clumsy in her presence. Her day job was watching out for World War Three. He couldn’t imagine what that felt like.
    “You’re on sub 3,” she offered. “Let’s talk again tomorrow. Or sooner if you find anything.” With that, she turned and left. Roger stood at the elevator. He lifted his pinky finger up, trying to imagine what it looked like to someone else. Someone else not used to partial fingers. He was surprised to note that his finger still tingled from her touch.
     

CHAPTER 8
    Buzzworm always began his day the same way. He believed all men chosen for greatness had their rituals, and he was no