Chapter Seven“Everybody's heard the worm is a word,
Worm worm worm, worm is a word,
waa waa waa, waa waa waa waa, waa waa waa…”
“C'mon, Danny, knock it off,” Bryan Wilson chided his partner.
Dan Munoz fell back in his swivel chair, feeling exhausted by the relentless effort by both agents in trying to contact the Nightcrawler. They sat in the FBI Headquarters in Lower Manhattan, using the Bureau's state of the art equipment in every possible way to make contact with the vigilante. They flooded the Internet, the airwaves, every possible frequency in relaying their call. They had been at it for over forty-eight hours with no success.
“Fisherman calling the Worm,” Dan raised himself up, setting his lips near the microphone in front of the computer. “Worm, come in.”
“I hope you guys hack
