Ethernauts

“I push back the door carefully. There’s no sound inside and my cybersenses aren’t buzzing. Something’s wrong, my gut doesn’t need thermographics to tell me that, but we’re not about to get whacked.

They’ve been here a while and they’re starting to show it. Dead man’s rictus stares back at me from five unlucky joes. I can feel my stomach turn but I’ve done this sort of thing before. So I shift my attention to the job, let one set of instincts override another.

Each of them was shot, at close range. Once through the heart and once through the head. All of them were moving but none of them managed to get a piece out. That tells me that not only was this a professional hit, but that we had multiple shooters.

I push further into the room, careful not to disturb the scene too much. There’s not much in the room beyond a desk and some chairs. Under the desk is a box and I hit paydirt, after a fashion. It’s pack with C-6. Plastic explosive. And it’s got the radio detonators they’d need to reach out across the way from here. Everything they need to blow a large sized whole in a corporate datacentre.

But it’s all too clean. Why go to the effort of acing these guys and then leave the corpses here? It ain’t exactly bright leaving all this plastique lying around either. No, someone wants this crime scene found. Someone with a tale to tell.

I’ve just got this sinking feeling it’s all for my benefit…”