Average Joe (2018)

45

Robson growled in anger. Only moments from now, every cop, gangster, and hero would swarm the building.

"Robson," Mathew warned. "We need to remain calm. The situation is still clear. We switch to phase five as planned. They won't know what hit 'em."

"No," Robson shook her head. "We're only at phase three. The serum isn't ready. It would kill you. If things go south we could leave a massive crater in the middle of New York."

"New York is about to turn into a war zone as it is."

"No. It's too risky. I need to speak to the Enforcers. See if they can buy us some time. We'll get our hackers on that news report, have some assassins go after Sabrina, and place heavy security at the bottom of the building to prevent anyone or anything from coming up."

"Except a super," Mathew warned.

"Mathew," Robson growled. "Go tend to your hostages. We have bigger issues to deal with right now than your incompetence."

"No." Robson paused at the doorway.

"No? You do not say 'no' to me, Mathew Everdale. I'm the one who picked you up from Quebec all those years ago. I'm the one who taught you everything you know. I'm the reason you're not still with your father getting treated as a lab rat."

"Robson, my dear." Mathew's expression was as calm as ever. "You are losing your touch. Your leadership skills aren't what they used to be. Your failures have led me to believe it is time Shadow Global received new management."

"How dare you!" Robson growled. Robson marched to the intercom. "Teresa, have security come and take Mr. Ever... ugh..!"

Scarlet seeped through Robson's mouth as something penetrated her lower back with a sharp sting.

"I'm sorry," Mathew whispered in her ear. "Really, I must apologize. You see, almost everyone in this company... I'm sorry, crime family is afraid of me. So... I don't need you anymore... but it's been fun." Mathew laughed darkly, as Robson's bloody form dropped to the carpet. "Now if I only had some duct tape and saran wrap..."

___

The Enforcers were Shadow Global's elite guard. Most of them were mercenaries, ex-cons, ex-marines, or trained in Quantico. They wore special armor and had a series of weapons including a 9mm Glock pistol, pepper spray, a large hunting rifle, a baton, and a smoke and concussion grenade.

The Enforcers were lined up in the lobby of the building, which had been cleared out. Mathew stepped out onto the reception desk as if it was a stage. He was carrying something behind his back, but the Enforcers couldn't tell what.

"Hello, everyone," Mathew hummed as stalked across the desk. "I know this isn't exactly protocol. That's because protocol is going out the window on this one. In minutes every cop and hero in the city will be here. Rival mobs, the FBI, the CIA, maybe even homeland security, and what's going to happen when they get here?" The army stared at him. "We are going to kill them. Every last one."

"Who made you in charge?" Sargent Wells commanded.

"I did."

Mathew pulled something from behind his back, dropping the bloodied thing to the floor. Robson's head was drenched in scarlet, her once beautiful eyes glossed over, her red hair flopping over in a mess. The Enforcers all jumped back, gagging and coughing. The smell of Robson's flesh was similar to raw salmon.

"So," Mathew smiled. "If it's not clear, you work for me now." Sargent Wells drew his gun.

"He's killed Oblivion! Light 'em up!"

The Enforcers, all two hundred of them, drew their weapons, pointing the barrels at Mathew's head. Mathew flourished his arms with a chilling smile.

"Go ahead. Shoot me."

"Fire!"

At once all two hundred men fired their guns, hundreds of bullets flying straight at Mathew. Mathew concentrated within and drew out the power he borrowed from Tori Felix. Sargent Wells and his men stared in horror as three hundred rounds of ammunition slowed almost to a halt, in mid-air.

"My turn," Mathew grinned.

Mathew's pale hand flipped the bullet Sargent Wells shot backward. Mathew walked to the side as he let the slow time-field fade, allowing the ammunition to blow apart the marble statue of Helena Robson. The bullet Mathew flipped, turned and rushed back to its sender, ending Sargent Wells' life with a splitting sound and a flash of blood.

"Now," Mathew sighed. "Where were we?"