La Pantera Negra.

“Oh, oh. This is bad. Damn, this is smart. Moriarty never told anyone this or recorded it on any server, I doubt even Stiff knows,” M rambled in his head.

“What the hell is going on, M?”

“The keypad had a fingerprint sensor. If a fingerprint doesn't match, the briefcase would auto activate the virus.”

“Goddamn it, he's even worse than Stiff,” Clone Chambers swore. Looking at the virus, a blue serum in a glass canister, he swore again. “We don't have time for this. I barely have twenty minutes left.”

“A solar vacation?” M asked, almost reading his mind.

He nodded. “A solar vacation.”

Everything suddenly disappeared, the virus, the canister, and the briefcase.

They were on their way to the sun now. He sincerely hoped Stiff didn't have a back up.

Just to be on the safe side, he had M send a message to Mindy to investigate. They needed to find out if there were more Ultra-V out there, or—god forbid—a variant.