"Okay," says Jack, but his voice is just barely on this side of vengeful. He's got the syringe out of his pocket and he's trying to guesstimate how much might be in it -- forty, maybe fifty ADAM? It would have been more if those fucking splicers hadn't shown up -- he's not really in a position to kick the one he's sitting on but the sentiment is there.

He shoots up the ADAM anyway, and shudders. It's a relief, but a small one. A negligible burn.

He is so mad at Tenenbaum right now you have no idea.