“Isn’t there a great physical cost to that kind of sudden exertion?” asked Church.

“Oh yes,” said Coleman. “Very much. Especially with this Relentless series of drugs. If they use this for any significant length of time, it’ll probably kill them. The heart is not designed to take such a huge and sustained adrenaline dump.”

The room fell silent as the implications of that sank in.

“Bloody hell,” said Wilson after a while. “This will turn those Fixers who are already in bleeding-edge body armor into supermen, and then it will kill them, triggering the explosives.”

Everyone in the room looked sick and scared. Even Church.

“Footage taken from Top’s and Bunny’s button cams have shown that quite a few of the Fixers at the Pavilion have surgical scars,” said Coleman. “So we can assume these packets have already been implanted. Since Top and Bunny are relatively new recruits, they haven’t yet received these implants. The others, though…”

“Maybe we can try to tell the Fixers this,” ventured Nikki. “Maybe we can tell them that their employers have turned them into suicide bombers.”

“That would be great,” said Coleman. “But…”

“Dear lord, save me from scientists who say ‘But,’” pleaded Wilson.

“Sorry,” said Coleman, and there was just a hint of the same ghoulish excitement on Doc Holliday’s face. “There’s a kicker. And it’s a kicker that really does make this worse.”

“Then just hit us with it,” said Church.

“Even though we don’t have samples of R-33, which is apparently their latest generation … we do know what they intended to add to it to make the super Fixers even more dangerous.”

“Christ,” breathed Wilson, and he literally grabbed the arms of his chair as if bracing for a blow.

“These packets will contain trace amounts of Rage.”

CHAPTER 110

DAS VERARBEITUNGSZENTRUM

The black car idled at the edge of the parking lot, and the three passengers watched the processing plant burn.

They saw two helicopters land and several small figures in black, and one in orange, climb aboard. The chopper lifted into the air just as a line of police cars came screaming into the lot from two entrances.

“Holy moly,” breathed Harry Bolt. “Did Joe do all that?”

“What do you think?” asked Toys snidely. “That bloke could start a riot in an empty room.”

Violin studied the figures still visible as the helicopters climbed into the air.

“Those were soldiers of some kind,” she said. “In body armor. Not a style I recognize.”

“How can you see that without binoculars?” asked Toys, but Violin only smiled.

Harry said, “She has superpowers. You wouldn’t believe some of the things Violin can—”

“Hush now,” she murmured. And he hushed.

The police cars screeched to a halt in front of the building, and the officers piled out, some pointing their weapons at the choppers, but there was no chance of a hit. The machines were climbing and turning.