"Right between the eyes!" he bleated.
"No, right between and just above," Neoldner corrected. "You've gone over this fifty times now…"
"Shut up!" the Lab Coat Man bellowed. "He shot me! If he had fired just a millisecond sooner…"
"You'd be dead," Neoldner noted. "So what are you going to do about
Forrester?"
Prof. Sigger, huddled quietly in the corner, added: "Well, I for one am very glad that you escaped with only —"
"Shut up, both of you! I have to think!"
There was yet another crisis. Not only had he been shot (almost), two unauthorized persons had possession of clipboards. Of the two, Nelson was the most likely to make sense of them, but there was no reason to be relaxed about the other. The problem was, no one had a spare. How was he supposed to look up the relevant procedure if he had lost his (damn) clipboard?!
Well, he was in charge now, at least until the Director showed up. Not Forrester, not the clipboard. And he needed some help. There was only one choice he could make. He walked out of the office and to the cell. Kurt was scratching his arm in the garish light cast from the lone bulb.
"I'm afraid we're running out of time. You know what will happen if we cannot conclude matters by a satisfactory hour."
Kurt continued to scratch.