Free Technosis: The Kensington Virus by Morgan Bell Page B

the members of this panel, their staff, their staff profilers and other specialists to gather data that might take us to our suspect.”
    The monitors behind her illuminated with a blank face outline. “Our subject we believe to be male, between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five. University educated, average build, entirely forgettable and of Northern European heritage.”
    A hand in the back of the room went up.
    “Yes?”
    “Do we believe he has erectile dysfunction?”
    A few soldiers laughed, others insisted they would do worse than write a virus if anyone screwed with their mojo.
    Director Foster smiled. “No, we do not believe he was a target of the graphosocial virus. We believe he was on the development team. We believe he is at the far end of the genius scale, does have a vendetta and will, at some point, publish a statement of his philosophical or political intent and motivation.”
    The room was quiet. The picture filled in. The face was not distinct.
    “He knows the tech grid and tech inside and out. He goes on and off it at will and is not being tracked. He destroys his data footprint effortlessly and he destroys hardcopy documents with impunity. We don’t know how he deletes memory of himself among those who know him, but he does and we believe he has had a previous event, probably in his teen years, involving violence either at school or against a family member involving tech. We are presently trying to develop a data profile to find the missing person from the data field. Someone who is supposed to be there but isn’t.”
    “Dr. Baxter, would you please summarize for us from a tactical point of view the panel’s presentation?” General Talbot asked.
    Dr. Baxter stood up on stage, and composed his thoughts while the microphone was being fastened to his lapel.
    “We are looking for a crazy white guy who is really smart, really angry, and has experience killing people with tech.”
    A hand went up.
    “Yes?” Dr. Baxter asked.
    “What are our tactical options?”
    “For now? Exactly what we’ve been doing. Unless you’re willing to shut down the entire tech grid worldwide for 48 hours.”
    “That is the end of this morning’s briefing,” General Talbot announced. “Tactical response officers are to remain here. The rest of you are dismissed.”
    The hall began to empty out and Jamie followed them.
    “Where are you going?” Commander Halle asked.
    “We were dismissed,” Jamie replied.
    “You’re a tactical response officer,” she said.
    “I am?” Jamie said, surprised. “I thought I was just civilian consul…”
    “You are an officer and have been assigned to the fort,” she cut him off.
    Jamie shut his mouth and followed her back into the hall.
    “Dr. Baxter,” the NSA Cyber Ops Director, Janelle Foster addressed him. “You did a good job summarizing the presentation.”
    “Thank you.”
    “General Talbot believes you have the expertise to help us track down the creator of the virus.”
    Jamie was speechless.
    “This is Lieutenant Carl Marshall,” she said, introducing the officer who had kept asking questions throughout the briefing. “He is working with our profiler team.”
    “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Baxter,” he said, shaking Jamie’s hand.
    “We would like you and Lieutenant Marshall, along with our profilers, in a special task force.”
    “You will still be reporting to Commander Halle and to me,” General Talbot advised.
    “Yes, sir,” Jamie said, still not certain if he should salute, much less how to.
    “Dr. Baxter, we need results and we need them now. The team has three days to get those results. You will have all the resources and personnel necessary to get the job done. But you will get it done,” General Talbot advised.
    “Sir, who do I ask for the personnel?” Jamie asked
    “You got someone in mind already?”
    “Sergeant Rosen.”
    “He’s part of our response team,” General Talbot said.
    “We are going to need his experience,