The Mind Virus

Chapter 10 - Part 3

Steam hung heavy in the bathroom as Terry stepped out of the shower. The pile of gore-stained clothes lying crumpled up on the ground were like a macabre trophy for what he'd done. He wondered whether the blood and bits would ever come out. He wasn't beyond simply throwing them away, but he didn't want to leave any evidence around. He'd done enough of that already. For all he knew, the body of the man he murdered was already being exhumed, and officers across the state were hunting for the man who did it. The unpleasant thoughts kept him company as he dried his hair. Finishing, he threw the towel over the pile of clothes and left the room.

Picking up the dead man's phone again, Terry mused over how, in spite of it all, he was fortunate that it had no security on it. Did the man remove the pin-to-unlock feature on purpose, or did he simply not enable it to begin with? Terry couldn't quite remember what the default was on his own identical phone. It didn't matter. With misfortune after misfortune, he was glad he caught this break.

What have I missed? What information have I overlooked? Terry thought to himself as he scoured the man's texts and emails once again. It seems he had been telling the truth when Terry was interrogating him. He simply hadn't been involved with the production or anything at all to do with the weapon. He was more of a business administrator – a pencil pusher. Appointments, bank transfers, travel logs, this was useless.

It was time for plan B. Terry pulled out a notepad and began recording numbers and email addresses that the man had contacted. Once he'd mapped out the repeat offenders, he tried to figure out their relationship to the man by the context of the messages. It was not as simple as it would have been with any normal organization. These people didn't sign off their messages with full names and titles, only initials and the occasional first name. The man who presented himself as Mr. Bach would sign off as "AB." Terry wondered whether he lied about Bach not being his real last name. No, focus, Terry. No time for idle thoughts.

In no time, a table of contacts and the contents of the communications between them and the man had been drawn up. One of them stood out, an individual who went only by "Jack." He seemed to be the source of orders as well as the most common destination for weapon-related questions. Although none of the questions had been technical – and certainly not useful to Terry's predicament – it nonetheless seemed like this Jack fellow would know the most about the weapon and the virus.

The next step would be to learn to mimic AB's writing style well enough that no one would suspect that they're communicating with anyone but the man himself. Terry knew that he'd have to pull it off perfectly. There was already a text message waiting in the phone's inbox, asking where the man was and why he hadn't arrived back at work yet. What excuse for that Terry would come up with, he didn't know, but he had time to think of one while he drew up another table of the man's writing voice.

It was amazing how different the man was on paper compared to how he was in person. Well, how he was before the kidnapping, at least. Whereas in person, he was all smiles and sugar drops, in his communications to his coworkers and supervisors, he was direct, methodical, concise – his messages were formulated like police reports. That's fine, Terry thought. Less personality quirks and idiosyncrasies means less room for error or inadequacies in the impersonation. This should be a piece of cake. Terry took a deep breath and began composing his message to the mysterious Jack.

I apologize for not contacting you earlier. I'm having car troubles. It's with a mechanic and will be for a few days. I'm using my time productively. The eggheads have asked me to compile some information on the weapon and its effects. As this is an unexpected development, I don't have any of the relevant paperwork with me. Could you please email me any information you have? Further, as you know, this is not really my specialty, so if you know of anyone who has more information on the topic, could you kindly send me their contact details? AB

The more Terry looked at the message, the more obviously amateurish it began to look. How would anyone ever fall for it? He supposed he didn't have much of a choice. Calling them up and asking for help directly would achieve nothing, so this would have to be his course of action. He took another deep breath and sent the email.