Entry Points

Dmitri’s fingers moved across the keyboard at 11 PM Moscow time. Red dots bloomed across the states on his screen like a digital rash. Each dot pulsed, isolated, cut off.

“Прекрасно,” he whispered, watching his scanner pinpoint another courthouse crimson.

His chat pinged. The colonel.

Ready to test?

In the old days, they’d hit a target, watch the walls close quickly. Now? Touch one domino in Nebraska, watch it topple through seventeen other states.

Which entry point?

Surprise me.

He clicked randomly. A city in Montana. Population: 3,847. One part-time IT administrator.

Perfect.

Somewhere in Washington, those responsible slept soundly, proud of their “efficiency”.

The cursor blinked.

“Спасибо за ключи,” he murmured toward the distant place.

And began.