“What is that?” Will was befuddled as he looked over the square that Clayton was holding with a pair of tweezers.
“This is a little bit of nastiness called a poison patch. I took it off Richmond while you were talking to the security guard. I told the EMTs what they’d need to do, but our odds are not good for getting anything out of Richmond.”
Will noticed the square bend a bit as Clayton held it. “It looks like athletic tape or something similar. How sticky is it?” Will reached for it, but Clayton quickly yanked it away.
“What part of ‘poison patch’ don’t you get? It’s poisonous. If you touch it your odds of survival aren’t great, even with most of the substance in Richmond’s system now.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that. It looks so thin.”
“That’s the great part of this thing. It’s only a quarter of an inch on all sides, but the poison it delivers through the skin is effective over ninety per cent of the time.”
Will kept getting closer. “Are you kidding me? It looks thinner than paper.” Clayton carefully took a small plastic bag out of his jacket and dropped the patch into the bag.
“The reason it’s so thin is that it has been in place for a while. The patch dissolves in moisture, and one of the first symptoms of the poison is increased sweating.”
Will shook his head. “That little square? Plus it dissolves? It sounds like the perfect tool for assassination.”
Clayton pulled out his phone. “That’s the plan. It was designed that way.”
“By who? China? Russia? Al-Qaeda?”
Clayton sighed. “I’m afraid this little number is a product of the United States. I’ve heard about them but I’ve never seen one, and as far as I knew they weren’t being used.”
“Waitaminute” Will said as he moved in to whispering distance. “Are you telling me we make these little death squares?”
“These little death squares are supposed to be under lock and key for our intelligence communities, and as far as I know they never got past the testing phase. The symptoms and the square fit everything I know to a tee, so it looks like either somebody is using stolen U.S. tech, or…”
“Or what?”
“…or this case took a turn away from identity theft and onto a really dark path. Will, we need to keep this on the QT. I told the EMTs that I knew he had been poised earlier from his house. They can’t know it was this square. I need to call Washington and report this. I won’t let them take me off the case, but before I hit send, I need you to promise something.”
“Promise something?”
“You’re a good and honest cop Will. I need you to promise that if I tell you to forget all this and move on to the next case, you will. You need to tell me you’ll step away and let us or some other feds handle this. I’d hate to see you caught in the crossfire or in the wrong place.”
Will looked down, then back at Clayton. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Great.” Clayton walked away to a corner of the terminal with a finger in one ear, and his phone pressed tightly against the other. Will looked down at his right hand, where he had crossed two fingers.
