Gordon sat next to the window as the plane lurched beneath him. He watched the clouds pass and tried his best to ignore the babbling behind him. That is, of course, until the Brazilian man stood up to brief them. [i]At last,[/i] Gordon thought. He was grateful to finally have some reason for being on this plane — especially as it was headed straight for his homeland.

The pictures made his heart sink. Yet, he couldn’t help but stare at them. The grief he felt was swallowed back behind a stoic face. The weapon that hung at his hip suddenly felt heavier than usual, as if it were reminding him, [i]hey, don’t forget I’m here by your side.[/i]

People offered up potential solutions one by one like a symphony of instruments trying to outdo one another. Gordon took in a long breath, contemplating the options. Above him, in the compartment hold, was a piece of experimental tech jostling around in a black suitcase. It wasn’t specifically designed to shoot liquid nitrogen, but it might be able to be recalibrated if given enough time.

[color=ec008c]“Perhaps,”[/color] Gordon said, clearing his throat. [color=ec008c]“We should look into the options given to us by our German friend here. He has a point. Bugs can be quick, and I don’t doubt that this thing, whatever it is, will thrash around. That sort of thing makes for a difficult shot no matter how skilled the marksman. However, if we were to make an effort to freeze it and slow it down, we might be able to deliver the toxin in a more precise manner. It’s more risky, but more safe…

I might have something we could use, perhaps. It all depends on what this thing looks like when we get there.”[/color]