Dr. Jim Stone walked quickly out of the chemical plant offices. He had just stolen a highly poisonous liquid from the “Contaminated” room. He could go to prison for stealing this chemical.

Jim walked to his car and got in. He was sweating. He loosened his tie and took it off.

The alarms hadn’t sounded yet. That was a good sign. However, they would be going off any minute now. He looked up and a red light began flashing.

Jim put his car in “drive” and sped out of the lot like he was James Bond in a high speed car chase. He drove past a police officer and wondered why he hadn’t been stopped. Jim watched the officer get smaller in his mirror as he continued driving down the bumpy road to the highway. Once he hit highway 117, he was home free. The chemical Jim had stolen was not only highly poisonous, it was also highly explosive, and if he didn’t get it to a refrigerator, it could explode.

He had to get it home, and fast. Jim was addicted to it. It was like a drug. Yes, he took it. Inhaled it, injected it, and snuffed it. For some very odd reason, it did not affect him like it did other people. Normally, if taken, you would start spitting up blood and choke to death. It didn’t work that way on Jim.

Jim looked in his mirror and noticed a police car behind him. The lights were flashing and the siren was blaring.

Jim slowly pulled over and quickly grabbed a silenced pistol out of his glove compartment.
“Do you have any idea how fast—?” the officer began to ask as Jim shot him three times through the chest.

Jim removed the vial of the liquid and opened it. The aroma filled his nostrils instantly, sending a jolt up his spine. Good stuff. Jim pulled a needle out and filled it with the liquid. He slowly inserted the needle into his arm and squirted the clear liquid into his veins.

Jim began to shake violently and spit blood. Apparently, he had grabbed the wrong vial. Two minutes later, he fell forward, hitting the horn. The chemist, Jim Stone, had died.