Gregor had made himself at home at Jeremiah’s compound. It was big enough to fit several large screens. He could see them all from his position in the center of the room.

“The code is implanted and ready for the next phase,” Gregor said.

“I’m impressed that you could deploy thirty thousand bots in less than a day.”

“What can I say? People like those little elves dancing on the screen. Little do they know they are installing my own version of Santa’s helpers.”

Jeremiah smiled and raised a glass.

“Here’s to phase one. May it distract the little people long enough to allow us to complete our great work.”

Gregor raised his glass in return with one hand and unceremoniously pressed the enter key with the other.

“They’re unleashed,” Gregor announced.

Jeremiah turned to his wall of monitors. In addition to the many security dashboards, metrics, and alerts, several television broadcasts were playing.

Gregor brought up a dashboard containing a world map. “The bullseyes represent our bot hubs. All the little points in-between are exploited user endpoints. Let us drink, be merry, and watch in real time. Hic—” Gregor said as he got up, then he stumbled for a moment and fell back into the chair.

“How many of those have you consumed?” Jeremiah said, pointing to his vodka and tonic.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“This?” Gregor pointed to his drink. “One . . . dva . . . maybe tri,” Gregor slurred.

“English, please.”

“Normally, that is extra . . . but for you, comrade, I will make an excep—”

Gregor slid out of his chair and fell on his ass.

Jeremiah laughed.

“What’s so funny?” a woman’s voice asked.

“Ahh, I didn’t hear you come in, my dear,” Jeremiah replied.

Gregor perked up at the sound of the woman’s voice. “Well, who are you?” Gregor asked as he tried getting up. He saw an attractive woman, with long black hair in her late twenties.

“I’m Melissa. I’m . . . home for winter break.”

“Daughter?” Gregor asked Jeremiah.

“Let me properly introduce my beautiful little girl. This is Melissa, who is . . . studying abroad,” Jeremiah said.

Jeremiah moved his head toward the door. Melissa caught the cue and started moving to the exit.

“Gregor, if you will excuse us, I would like to catch up with my daughter.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Gregor was attempting to pour himself another glass of something golden but only managed to fill a third of the glass before spilling the rest on the table.

Melissa followed her father down the hall that eventually branched off to his office. He brought up surveillance footage of the operations center that Gregor was manning, as well as several other feeds.

“What news, dear?”

“The hook is baited. Neither the Collective nor Black Iris will know what hit them.”

Jeremiah smiled.

“That’s my girl!”

“It’s good to be home. That island was starting to get on my nerves.”

“Our work is just beginning.”

“What will you do with him? Is he in your employ now?”

Melissa pointed at the screen, at a drunken Gregor.

“He will suffer the same fate as the Collective and Black Iris. The world doesn’t need any more criminals.”

“I hate parties,” Melissa said, shuttering from a bad memory.

“I know you do, but without the party you attended almost eight years ago, you wouldn’t have your daughter, April.”

“I’m not so sure that would be such a bad thing,” Melissa said.

Jeremiah gave a cold stare. “You can’t be serious.”

Jeremiah hugged Melissa and gave her a light kiss on the forehead.

“Don’t worry, dear. We will get the man who hurt you,” Jeremiah said.

Jeremiah looked at his daughter. She was silent and appeared to be deep in thought.