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….
An audio illusion, a short dialogue, and now the last participant of the upcoming performance was ready to be brought to the set decorations, waiting only for the appointed ti.
Another call, and a helicopter was ready for , because the adamantium produced by Stryker wasn't going to transport itself from the base.
There wasn't that much of it at the mont, only about half a cubic ter of lt. Keeping a larger volu made no sense, because even in the depths of a full-fledged hydroelectric power station, one couldn't be completely sure of the absence of power failures, and consequently, heating failures.
Equipnt also had a tendency to break, and generally… Large volus of this tal weren't required.
At one ti, the colonel dread of adamantium fighter jets and body armor, but when he calculated the cost of rare earth tals just for the production of the alloy alone, not counting the headache of manufacturing the finished product, he shoved his dreams where the sun doesn't shine.
Plus, mass production would put an end to his recipe monopoly, and William wasn't ready to agree to that. For many reasons…
In short, it was ti to leave the hospitable warehouse and drive to et destiny.
Fortunately, a techno-magical "thermos" was already waiting in my pocket dinsion, ready to hold three tis the volu of the alloy.
"I see you've finished fortifying your spiritual strength?" referring to the empty plastic cookie tray, I asked the girl, returning to the circle of light.
"Thank you for the treat," she bowed her head formally, rising to her feet.
"Splendid," stepping closer, I took the package and imdiately sent it into the pocket dinsion. "Now listen carefully. You are going to get back in the car and drive it to Stryker's house, leaving it where it's supposed to be. After that, I will tell you where you should hide for the ti being while I deal with your forr employer. Questions?"
"How do I contact you?" clenching her fists and standing as straight as if she'd swallowed a pole, Yuriko asked succinctly.
"Look to the right," with a slight movent of my hand, I created a phantom of myself next to her. "I will be nearby the whole ti," I continued the phrase with the phantom's lips…
…
So ti later. Near the xican border.
"Rice, turn on the news channel!" A young tanned woman with a distinct imprint of bitchiness on her face barged unceremoniously into Zander's office.
"How many tis must I ask you not to burst into my office without a valid necessity, Kimura?" the head of laboratories grimaced. "And anything not related to a potential danger to the project is not 'valid'!"
"Just turn on the damn box and you'll understand!" the woman growled in response, impulsively grabbing the remote from the bedside table and forcing it into the boss's hands.
"Fine," the scientist sighed, wincing, and pointing the remote at the plasma panel hanging on the wall, switched to the requested channel.
"…two wounded police officers have just been taken away by an ambulance. We remind you that we are broadcasting from Irving Street, Washington. At 13:47, a call ca into the dispatch center reporting strange sounds in a neighboring yard. An ordinary routine call in the suburbs of the capital turned into sothing terrible this ti," the cara switched to an aerial view, apparently from a helicopter.
A solid-looking large house behind a massive fence was surrounded by police cars, behind which the brave officers of the law took cover, not attempting to stick their heads out.
"Stinking mutants!" a familiar voice was heard. "This is all your fault!" The sounds of gunshots joined the voice.
"The resident military advisor, Colonel William Stryker, while in a state of severe alcohol or drug intoxication, staged a shooting in his own ho. Upon the arrival of law enforcent representatives, he refused to let them in and opened fire. At the mont, there are two wounded, and according to preliminary information, there is one hostage in the house besides Colonel Stryker, who happens to be his son."
"The Departnt of Defense has not yet comnted on this incident. However, based on the suspect's shouts, the reason for the incident lies in his radical views on the mutation phenonon discussed in Congress six months ago. Our caraman managed to record part of William Stryker's remarks; I suggest we listen to them."
…..
"…Living among us, pretending to be ordinary people!" the Colonel's familiar voice lanted angrily, but with a completely unfamiliar feverish intonation, as if he were having a nervous breakdown.
"Masking themselves and even interbreeding, spawning bastards like themselves! But you won't get !" Gunshots were heard on the recording.
"I studied your habits for forty years! Think you have powers? Ha! I've seen your powers on the operating table! Whatever you can do, you can always be cut open! Animals!" Gunshot.
"No, you're worse than animals, worse than niggers and dirty Latinos! A real plague that you can't identify by skin color to stay away from! Infiltrating our society! Pretending! But I found a way to find you! Yes, you won't fool !"
The roar of shots again.
"Wanted to catch in a honey trap?! Thought a wife could control ?! No! I understood everything! I guessed what she was! You all need to be isolated from normal people and treated… treated or destroyed. Kept on pills! Yes, on pills,"the hysterical screams were interrupted by another shot. Obviously, there was more than enough ammunition in the colonel's house.
"I tried to cure her… I almost succeeded! It's all in the brain, in the brain!.. But she didn't appreciate my efforts, wanted to run away and stop from treating our son… stupid mutant and her degenerate spawn! She probably cheated on with the sa kind of freak; a normal person couldn't produce a mutant son…"
"But it's okay, it's okay, I didn't let her ruin everything and cured my boy! Right, son? This is what needs to be done with all of you! What needs to be done for Arica! Real people must protect themselves from these degenerates! Protect! Unite!.."
"As you can see, the Colonel clearly has a severe disorder," a journalist appeared on the screen, behind whom the house observed from the helicopter could be guessed. "These racist slogans are obviously…"
BANG!
Another gunshot sound, judging by the noise, from a shotgun, rudely interrupted the speech, and sothing shattered loudly right next to the cara, forcing the caraman to sharply blur the image.
"Think I don't know what you're plotting?! You won't silence !" Following a distant scream, a hysterical sob was heard.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help you… damn mutant! This is all your fault! Mutants… these cursed mutants everywhere! You won't take ! BANG! BANG! BANG!"
"Get down!" a police officer in body armor running up knocked the journalist and caraman off their feet.
"Stay back! I won't be taken! BANG! BANG!.." and everything went quiet.
….
Bonus Chapter on every 500 power stones;
If you want to read ahead by 20 chapters from here you can visit my Patre-on.
[P] [A] [T] [R] [E] [O] [N]
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