One sustained ten-second burst, and the mission was complete. The office of the cartel lay in smouldering ruin. The sooty smoke was all that remained of their computers; the wind was carrying away files, the dates and times and data that are the lifeblood of organized crime. And possibly also, Illchor dared to dream, the sleazebag that ran the genebreaking cartel.

Oy. I should never, ever be allowed to write political thrillers.

The influence here was mostly Doom... the game, not the movie. I've been wasting some time lately with the original pixelated classic, via a neat utility called ZDOOM. Also, I had thumbnail sketchs of Illchor with a big gun lying around. So hey, two birds with one stone. Or one sustained ten-second burst. Whatever.

New! Hiker's Art Store is now open!