adamantium temperature?
feed lines clear?
prepare insertion.
commence feed. the technicians enter commands, watching close-up images of the procedure on their monitors.
body temperature?
heart rate?
density?
density?
the eleven will be ready within 24 hours.
sir.  lieutenant hines hasn't reported to base today.
we saved the leftover adamantium from the weapon x procedure. stryker plucks one of the bullets from its niche and rolls it between his fingers, examining it with a practiced eye. cornelius each one's got a high-explosive core. two in the head and logan's brain will have to regenerate from scratch.
according to the computer models we ran, there's a 30 percent chance his healing factor will reconstitute the gray matter. but those synaptic bridges that form our memories? gone. if he survives, his brain will come back fresh.
she ought to be. that's the world's most expensive bullet. stryker pulls a revolver from his shoulder holster, dumps the standard rounds, and begins loading the adamantium bullets. (rfnttn11f.t 1
only problem is, the procedure can only be done here at alkali lake. stryker swings the chamber shut and holsters his gun.
we're good to go.
if i've calibrated correctly, we'll leave intact the hard-wired functions, walking and talking, all that good stuff.
but every memory you've ever had will evaporate. just like it never happened. logan never takes his eyes off kayla, his personal judas.
whenever you're ready, miss silverfox. kayla turns and walks out of the room. cornelius and his aide follow, shutting the door behind them. logan takes a deep breath. he looks like a man who is ready to forget everything.
this could take a while. raise the amperage by forty percent.
he's stronger than i thought. we could be here all night.  kayla watches logan in his agony. a glimmer of remorse passes over her face.
you have a funny way of showing your gratitude. logan thrashes in his chair. kayla chews her lip. for a long count she watches logan suffer.
i should what?