The Union Subdivision team threw gas masks on. Jessica set a titanium canister of modified chloroform gas against the front door and shoved the attached tubing underneath. Gas sprayed into the main room.
Hector counted to three. Crash! The door caved on the first blow from Sam’s battering ram. Inside, all four scientists were out cold. The XLS agent, Eric, was on his knees. His pistol lay two feet away. He gasped for breath through a gas mask haphazardly cupped over his mouth. He’d reacted in time to prevent complete loss of consciousness, but hadn’t been fast enough to avert the initial effects of the gas. His fingers crawled across the carpet toward the pistol.
Sam kicked the weapon away from Eric as Hector charged into the adjacent room. Banerjee, woozy from what gas had made it through, stood alone.
“Where is he?”
A bewildered Banerjee blinked. “He—he vanished!”
“What did he want? Did you give him anything?”
Banerjee held up a single sheet of paper. “He wanted the formula—advanced stealth—cloaking. W–who are you?”
“This isn’t complete.”
“He left before I could finish. I think he scanned it or–”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, but–”
Hector didn’t wait for Banerjee to finish. He moved back into the main room. Jack glanced up. “SRT is on the way.”
“Clean the area,” said Hector. “Let’s go.”
Jessica removed the memory erasing syringes from her side pocket and began injecting the scientists. Jack stood over an inhibitor-cuffed Eric, who huddled in the corner and muttered to himself between hacking coughs.
“What about him?”
“Take him in for questioning.”
“You imbeciles.” Eric wheezed. “Stupid, stupid lemmings! You don’t understand. You don’t have any idea what you’re doing!”
“We’re not the terrorists, pal,” said Jack.
“History isn’t going to see it that way. The XLS is made of martyrs, revolutionaries…heroes.”
Eric reached into his coat pocket with his teeth and flung the clay explosive into the center of the room.
Jack swore. “Bomb!”
Without hesitation, Hector dove on it.
