Daemon

candidates.’
    Philips looked at him like he was insane. ‘The government
outsourced
our background checks?’
    ‘Britlin has worked with the intelligence sector for thirty years, Doctor. This is standard operating procedure.’
    ‘What about the current situation seems standard to you?’
    Merritt started loosening his tie. ‘We need to take him out before he can react. Let me go in there with a can of mace.’
    The Major shook his head. ‘Negative, Agent Merritt. We have people on site.’
    ‘No offense, Major, but I do this for a living.’
    ‘We have thirty ex-SOCOM soldiers – counterinsurgency experts, each with more than a decade of experience. Delta Force, OSNAZ, SFB …’
    Merritt stopped preparing himself. ‘Well, I see you were expecting trouble.’
    Ross was still moving back and forth, trying to pinpoint theintruder’s location on a printed floor plan. ‘He’s one of the gamers along the back wall of the pit. User 23, 24, or 25.’
    Philips turned to the scientists. ‘This intruder must be linked into the Daemon’s darknet. Can you jam his connection?’
    The lead scientist looked dour. ‘We’re not configured to jam signals in the gaming pit, Doctor.’
    ‘Major, we need that mole taken alive if at all possible.’
    The Major nodded toward the distant blast doors. ‘Let’s get to the security control room. We’ll direct the op from there.’

Chapter 43:// Enemy Within
    The glass security doors of the gaming pit opened silently, admitting a Korr strike team – half a dozen heavily armed men wearing Kevlar helmets, gas masks, and black body armor. They entered in close formation, single file, guns aimed over each other’s shoulders. The white Korr logo was a just a large stylistic ‘K,’ like a heraldic symbol on their black helmets and breastplates.
    Across the room another set of glass doors opened, revealing a second Korr strike team, identical to the first. The team leaders exchanged hand signals, then advanced in unison. They were a steely-eyed, professional bunch, with automatic weapons, Tasers, and beanbag guns at the ready. They moved as one, threading rapidly through the tangle of workstations toward their target. They clearly knew their business.
    The strike teams fanned out, aiming toward the far corner of the room. As they moved in, several of them held up printed signs reading
Danger: Do not speak. Leave immediately
. White-hat gamers looked up one by one, nudging each other. Their game chatter died down, but the guards took up chatter of their own to compensate:
    ‘Team two, cover that left flank.’
    ‘Stop bunching up.’
    ‘Cover that exit!’
    ‘Clear the field of fire.’
    The strike teams kept up a steady stream of talk as they formed into a wedge, focused directly on the target: the three gamers in the corner of the room. They could see the gamers’ heads dodging left and right beyond flat-panel monitors, reacting to what was displayed on their computer screens. All three men were completely absorbed in their games.
    The forward team leader held up three gloved fingers andpointed directly at the players in the corner. Best to take all three down.
    The strike teams were still tugging stunned gamers aside, holding a finger up for silence, then pointing to the exits.
    Finally the two strike teams were in position, arrayed around their quarry at a distance of ten or twelve feet. They stared at the heads of three gamers – patches of close-cropped, spiky hair. The ambient chatter had died down now, and the targeted gamers appeared to sense something was up. They glanced around as the last of their neighbors scurried to safety. They were isolated. Silence finally fell upon the room, except for the stereo sound effects of nearby 3-D games.
    One of the Korr team leaders touched a microphone switch on his gas mask and shouted in an amplified radio voice. ‘Users 23, 24, and 25. Remain seated, and put your hands where we can see them. This is not a drill!’
    The two gamers on the left immediately raised their hands and looked up in utter shock. When they got a look at the dozen weapons pointed in their direction, they turned a shade paler than they already were.
    The young guy on the right remained motionless, still sitting behind his monitor.
    ‘User 25! Put your hands where we can see them! Now!’ The team leader motioned for the two users on the left to clear the area. They were happy to oblige, and as they complied, two guards pepper-sprayed them in the