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Mar 19, 2007 15:23

There's always so much work to be done. Even in the days after a monumental breakthrough, there are tests to be run, cures to be produced, and always the next project or three projects or dozen projects on the horizon. Downing her third cup of coffee for the day, Mayko sets her mug on the counter and falls into step next to Carlos as he passes by.

"Did you hear back from the lab in Halifax?" she asks him as they head down the stairs and through the doors. "Their results sounded really promising."

Carlos never has a chance to answer her. There's the sound of scuffling feet and frantic shouting and when they look up there's a man with explosives strapped to his body standing in the middle of the lab.

Mayko's brain shifts from reason to reflex, and she beckons everyone nearby to come closer, to get out of the room or even just behind the lab bench, somewhere other than right in the path of the blast. Carlos's arm comes around her and they're moving, moving, moving, until time runs out.

There's a door behind her, but when the explosion throws her back into it it's too solid, it has no give. That's so absurd, she thinks as her head bounces off it, that there's a bomb exploding and all I can think is that it's is too solid. Is this the sort of thing everything thinks when they're dying? The door is too solid. I forgot to pick up the dry cleaning. Did I leave the oven on?

Mayko closes her eyes and lets her body slide down to the floor.

[ooc: Mayko has just flown into the wall of the lab. She's probably going to have a bump on her head, but is otherwise uninjured.]

bob melnikov, debut, ainsley hayes, neil bucyk, mayko tran, john crichton, curtis, jill langston, dr. david sandstrom

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