Kline entered first. Eric drew his pistol and tucked it behind his back. Four scientists turned in unison. Shorts, t-shirts, and sandals. Great minds couldn’t be troubled with dressing well. They stared.
“Rahul Banerjee?” Kline asked.
They collectively pointed to a side door. Kline barged into the room. Banerjee stood in front of a whiteboard. Complex equations. Scribbles. Doodles. He muttered to himself, but didn’t turn to greet them.
“Dr. Banerjee?”
Brushing black, curly hair out of his face, he pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and faced Kline.
Eric shut the door and pointed his pistol at Banerjee’s head. Kline shoved Eric back.
“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? Wait outside!”
Eric sneered, but complied. Banerjee’s eyes were the size of dinner plates. Pupils dilated. Some foreign substance to get his brain working. Kline stepped in front of him.
“Advanced stealth technology. Cloaking. Is it possible for it to work on a larger scale—something the size of a small city?”
“Wha– How did you? I don’t–”
Kline grabbed Banerjee’s shoulders. “Does your theory solve for the mass and size of the subject?”
“Ar–are you with–the CIA?”
“Please, just answer the question!”
“It’s just a–theory! I’m not sure–”
“Tell me!” Kline shook him.
The door burst open. Eric held the pistol in one hand, the rudimentary clay explosive in the other. “We’ve got company! Union agents!”
Kline cursed. His eyes bored into Banerjee’s. “How do we cloak something bigger than a human being?!?”
Banerjee peered over Kline’s shoulder. In the adjacent room, Eric grabbed one of the other scientists and held the gun to her head. Banerjee gaped.
Kline spun. He stomped into the adjacent room. “What is this? You’re jeopardizing the mission!”
“I’m sending a message! A message to them—the Union!” said Eric. Madness flashed across his face. He stared at the explosive in his palm. “Someone has to get them to pay attention.”
