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NASH

Slamming my fist in Cyrus’s shoulder, I hissed. “So much for a low fucking profile.”

Cyrus used the sleeve of her jacket to clear the remaining glass from the lab’s door, reaching around and popping the latch from the inside.

Moving inside, we all paused as we looked at the lab. It was huge, pristine, and clearly functioning. Rows of microscopes, shelves with binders and instruction manuals, glass-enclosed test tubes, and desks full of paperwork sprawled across the space.

On every wall were reminders that this lab was highly confidential and required security clearance.

Blade clasped her hands together and stretched them out away from her body, cracking each knuckle. “Thanks for breaking the seal, Cyrus.” A devious smile took over her face as she sprinted to the other end of the lab and started tearing the place apart.

There was little point in trying to be gentle now.

They’d know we were here regardless.

Tess moved over to the desks, starting to read through the papers on the desk.

Cyrus moved to the enclosed testing area, her face scrunching up as she tried to understand the swirling tubes and beakers inside.

After a second, she nodded. “It’s definitely DMT they’re working on.”

“Why?” Tess asked as she looked up from the desk she was searching.

“Chemical compound models on the posters, it’s the same structure. Color is the same too.” Cyrus leaned closer to the glass, looking at the finished product behind the safety barrier. It hadn’t been ground into power yet, still in its large crystal form.

I moved to the cabinets along the walls.

While we worked, Tess kept her eye on the door.

“Five minutes in.” I called out as I pulled open the metal doors of the storage units.

Rooting through it, it was all normal lab shit — nitrile gloves, spare goggles, extra lab coats. Some of them were meant as storage for personal effects, making them completely empty on a weekend morning.

Turning around, I shifted some papers on the table behind me.

Research notes, lots of them.

It was mostly the supervisor’s papers, explaining the effects of DMT on mice and rats. From what I could read, there hadn’t been active tests on humans for this drug since the 70s. The government wouldn’t approve it.

There was more… details about ways to consume and the different effects of those methods. Snorting, pills, liquifying, vaporizing…

“15 minutes.” Cyrus hissed. “We gotta move.”

Clenching my jaw, I moved back to the cabinets, there had to be more in here.

What were the odds that Jeremy Zoric went to this university, that he had DMT on his person when we found him, and that he’d met Rubin? There had to be a connection.

Maybe it was wishful thinking.

But if we were wrong, we’d have to tell Dom Dumont that we’d hit another dead end. And frankly, I didn’t want to see how she’d respond to that news.

Ripping open a cabinet, I started throwing shit on the floor, letting office supplies clatter to the floor as I did.

“Twenty minutes.” Blade called out.

Once the thing was empty, I felt my shoulders heaving. Air hissed from my nose as defeat started to set in.

Until my eyes caught on a bend in the metal sheet at the back of the cabinet.