Natasha, John, Milo and Cassidy were using John’s hotel as a base of operations while Nigel, and Jet worked remotely.

“Milo, Cassidy, stay with John. I need to take care of something,” Natasha said, heading towards the door, car keys in hand.

“Wait, are you taking the car?” John asked.

“Yes, I need to shut down the bot network that is sending thousands of commands to summon bots to attack EIA. It must be stopped . . . now!”

“Hang on, Natasha. I suspect that Ellen is in trouble. I didn’t tell Nigel because he has enough on his plate. I think we should try to reach Ellen’s last known coordinates from the Find Friends App that we installed,” John said.

“Okay, change of plans,” Natasha replied. “We will stop the botnet, and then find Ellen.”

John nodded as he followed Natasha outside and got into the car. Milo and Cassidy jumped in the back seat.

The road was jam-packed with cars.

“We are going nowhere fast in this traffic,” Natasha growled.

When she finally noticed an opening in traffic, Natasha turned the car in the wrong direction, several times narrowly avoiding getting hit before turning onto a side street. The car slid around as she maneuvered it through the snow and ice. If growing up in the Ukraine had taught her anything, it was how to drive in inclement weather. John gave Natasha a look of respect.

“What?” Natasha said.

“You drive better than anyone I’ve seen at the bureau.”

Natasha smiled.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived at Jake’s house. Natasha parked, and then rummaged through her bag for the proper badge displaying her fake FBI credentials.

“John, come with me. The rest of you, wait here.”

Natasha and John knocked on the front door. A haggard middle-aged woman opened the door. “Can I help you?” she asked.

Natasha waved the counterfeit badge in front of the woman.

“Gretchen Lewis, FBI. We’re coming in.”

“What! Do you have a warrant?”

“We have probable cause. Which means if we suspect a crime in progress, we can search the premises,” John said.

Natasha gave John a nod, and then barged through, almost knocking the woman to the ground. John followed.

After a few minutes of searching the house, they came to a closed door with a poster of a scary-looking skeleton playing a guitar. John turned the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge—so he kicked it in. A teenage boy was in the middle of playing a video game in his underwear. Natasha recognized the game. He was playing the Colossal Machine.

“Hey, what gives?” Jake yelped.

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Natasha pushed the boy aside and then brought up a command console. After typing a few commands, she noticed that he was playing an exploited version of the game. On the screen, Natasha could see another player with wings and a large sword. She typed in a few more commands to bring up his identity. She logged his avatar as “FreemanRising.”

“Are you a real FBI agent?” Jake said.

Natasha ignored him as she glanced around the room for the source of the Dark Glider server. The boy’s machine was not powerful enough to run a Dark Glider server, which required a MORP relay.

Natasha grabbed the boy by the scruff of the neck and yelled, “Where is the relay server?”

“What?” the boy asked in a scared voice.

“The Dark Glider relay program!”

The boy pointed to the closet.

Natasha opened the closet door. A small box with several wires running to what appeared to be a router was on the top shelf of the closet. Natasha unplugged the box.

She pulled out her phone and texted Nigel.

Check to see if the bots are active.

After a few minutes, Nigel confirmed that the bot activity had stopped.

“We will confiscate all digital assets,” Natasha told Jake.

“Wha—” the boy said.

“Stand back, son,” John said.

With John’s help, Natasha gathered the rest of the equipment, carried it outside, and put it in the trunk of her car.

“Why did we take all that stuff?” John asked once they were both back in the car.

“That boy was Jake, the one who hurt Nigel, and he has powerful equipment that is helping to destabilize our infrastructure, for starters.” Natasha glanced back at Cassidy and Milo. “Now, let’s see if Ellen is okay,” she said.

Just as she put the car into gear, she noticed a man walking toward Jake’s house. He was well dressed in a large overcoat and was wearing a fedora. Is that—Viktor?

Natasha put the car back into park and stepped out.

“Privyet, Viktor.”

The man turned around with a startled look on his face. “Natasha?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I would ask you the same question. Who is in the car with you?”

“Are you here to see the kid?”

“The boss sent me!” Viktor said. “I was sent to scare the person causing trouble for the Colossal Machine.”

Natasha knew what that meant; he was here to eliminate Jake.

“I took care of the problem. Tell Alexei that I will contact him soon. You don’t have to take care of anyone, understand?”

“Da.”

Viktor started walking back to his car. Natasha waited a long time before driving away.

“What was that about?” John asked.

“Nothing,” she replied flatly.

Natasha was silent as she drove through the heavy snow. The normally twenty-minute drive across town was turning into an hour, the sun was setting, and visibility was getting worse by the minute. Natasha didn’t have a good feeling as she came closer to Ellen’s signal.

“John, see if you can call Ellen again.”

John dialed Ellen’s number. “Nothing!” he replied. “I’m getting a fast busy. I think our coverage is spotty, or service is being disrupted by the snow.”

Natasha had to stop short of hitting a barricade that was set up in the middle of the road. Several officers were standing behind the makeshift structure.

“You will turn around,” the officer said, approaching Natasha’s window.

“Why is the road closed?” Natasha looked ahead. There were flashing lights from a lot of vehicles ahead. “Our friend was on this road. We’re trying to locate her.”

The officer gave Natasha a concerned look.

“There was a bad accident here—at least forty or fifty cars. We have already taken most victims to local hospitals, but we are still trying to cut people out of other vehicles.” The officer pointed at the side of the road. “I need you to turn around now.”

“Didn’t you hear me? Our friend is in that pileup, and we haven’t been able to reach her. Can you tell me where they are taking the wounded?”

“Most of the wounded were taken to Milford General. They took others to Mercy, several miles down the highway. With conditions worsening, I doubt you can check them both.”

“Can you check to see where our friend is?”

“I don’t have that information. I’m sorry.”

John motioned for the officer. He lowered his voice.

“Hey, I’m a former Special Agent. Appleton of the FBI. My girlfriend is in that mess. Are you sure that you can’t tell me anything else?”

The man looked around, and then said quietly, “The accident is suspicious—two vehicles were . . . placed on the road. A mound of snow covered them. As if . . . someone had covered the vehicles using a dump truck of snow.”

“Thank you, officer,” John replied with a look of concern.

“I hope your friend is okay,” the officer said before walking off.

Natasha turned the car around.