The jaws of the tool plunged into the underside of my eye and a spurt of blood sprinkled Kawahara's face. Pain flared brightly. For a moment, I could see the pliers through the eye they were embedded in, towering away like a massive steel pylon, and then Kawahara twisted the jaws and something burst. My vision splashed red and then winked out, a dying monitor screen like the ones at Elliott's Data Linkage. From my other eye I saw Kawahara withdraw the pliers with Reese's recording wire gripped in the jaws. The rear end of the tiny device dripped minute spots of gore onto my cheek.