<P>But he never even got halfway around before something hit him in the back. Hit him hard. It sent a shockwave of pain up his spine and through his body. His vision blackened for a moment, he felt like he was going to pass out right there. More pain erupted around his body, and he suddenly found himself restrained. Malcolm struggled to regain his vision, struggled to escape the hurting - And then color and light rushed back to his brain, hit him like a brick.
<P>
<P>He found himself staring into the eyes of none other than Gunther Hermann. The agent had Whiteman pinned up against the wall by his throat, holding him with one clenching fist, seething with rage, staring into him with cold eyes.
<P>
<P>Malcolm made a gurgling noise. He realized he couldn't breath.
<P>
<P>Gunther squeezed harder.
<P>
<P>"I... am not... a machine." Gunther shook slightly. He looked like he was going to explode.
<P>
<P>Malcolm made further gurgling noise, trying to respond, trying to gasp for air, felt trapped.
<P>
<P>"You're going to kill him!" Andreas shouted from across the room, backed up against the wall, still holding his bloody scalpel. "Agent Hermann! You're going to kill him!"
<P>
<P>Gunther paid no attention. Only squeezed harder. His metallic body resonated a livid heat, his augmented muscles tensed... For a moment, there was just a long pause. A long pause of anger and regret and worry and pain and helplessness. Just a long, breathless, dead pause. Nobody moved. Time seemed to tick by like it was stuck in slow motion. Every second that passed amplified the normally quiet tick of the clock into a blaring, monstrous thud. Every breath lingered in the air for eons.
<P>
<P>And then with abrupt speed, everything returned in a blur.
<P>
<P>"GUNTHER!" Andreas yelled one last time, and Hermann finally and immediately dropped Malcolm to the floor and stared at him with big, remorseless, dead eyes. Gunther glanced down to JC's corpse.