Uploading… 89%.

The red alarms began to stutter. The incoming attack was trying to sever the connection, realizing too late that the data it was pulling had been tethered to a self-replicating transfer command.

Uploading… 98%. I held my breath.

Uploading… 100%. Packet delivered.

Within sixty seconds the attack on my servers ceased. The screens flickered back to a cool, stable blue. The roar of the cooling fans spooled down.

In their arrogant rush to silence me and destroy the evidence, the Vances had built the pipeline that carried it straight to the three agencies most equipped to end them.