A middle-aged police officer in a bulletproof vest hurried over to et them.
His eyes were bright, but not with the fanaticism of soone seeing a superhero. It was the relief of soone seeing reinforcents arrive.
Holander, cape draped behind him, stepped forward and patted the officer on the shoulder.
He did not use much force, but when his hand ca down, the old cop’s shoulder did not move an inch. He was steady.
"Captain,"
Holander said, his voice not loud, but enough for the nearby officers to hear,
"you’re the real heroes. We’re just here to play a supporting role. All right, where are the gunn?"
The officer looked flattered, even a little emotional. This was a superhero, and he was calling him a hero.
"Oh my God, please don’t look at him like you want to sleep with him, all right?"
Benjamin remarked.
Holander froze for a second.
The officer froze too, but quickly said, "The gunn are on the thirty-first floor. Our people have sealed off all ground exits."
Benjamin nodded and turned to Holander.
"Take up. Thirty-first floor."
"Roger that."
Holander reached out, wrapped an arm around Benjamin’s waist exactly the sa way he had when they arrived, bent his knees slightly, and shot upward from the ground.
A burst of air exploded across the street, blowing the hair of several reporters who had gotten too close into bird’s nests. One police cap that had not been secured properly was swept into the air, spinning three or four tis before its owner jumped up and caught it.
The crowd erupted into deafening cheers again, countless phones aiming at the red-and-green trail rising straight into the sky.
The instant they approached, Holander locked onto the window on the thirty-first floor.
Benjamin smashed through it with the edge of his shield.
The two landed in the corridor one after the other, their boots crunching over broken glass.
Holander walked in front, while Benjamin followed slightly behind and to the side, shield held before him.
The door to the main office area was open.
Two robbers were inside.
Their weapons were not bad.
The leader was the first to turn around, and he saw the two figures who should not have been standing in the doorway.
In less than a second, his pupils shifted from anger to terror.
"Fu..."
He never got to finish the second syllable.
Holander had already appeared in front of him in an instant, one hand gripping the barrel of his rifle. The tal flattened in his palm like paper.
"Damn, that’s fucking fast."
Benjamin cursed without thinking. He already had Super Speed Lv1, yet he had barely seen Holander move.
Then again, Holander’s Super Speed was probably around Lv5, almost as fast as A-Train.
Holander was very pleased, because he thought Benjamin was praising him.
With his other hand, he pressed against the leader’s chest and shoved him off the conference table, sending him crashing to the floor.
The leader struggled to get up.
"If I were you, I’d stay down. Otherwise, your head might accidentally get crushed like a waterlon."
Benjamin lifted his foot threateningly.
The leader imdiately closed his eyes.
Right after that,
Benjamin saw the second robber get knocked to the ground by Holander too.
Another instant movent.
More damn Super Speed.
Benjamin wondered if Holander was trying to show off in front of him. His efficiency at taking down robbers was sothing else.
Both robbers were already down. They were still alive, all their limbs still attached, but they had completely lost the ability to resist and were curled up on the floor in pain.
Holander stood up and turned to look at Benjamin. His blue eyes were very bright.
Benjamin gave him a nod of approval.
Holander saw it and stood there looking even happier.
"The hostages are safe, and the robbers have been contained. Have the police tactical team co up and take over."
Benjamin pressed his communicator as he spoke.
When the two walked out through the building’s main entrance, the cheers on both sides of the street were almost loud enough to overturn all of Madison Avenue.
The officer ca forward to et them, and Holander stepped up and patted him on the shoulder again.
"Hero, it’s your turn."
Then Holander took Benjamin with him and shot into the sky.
That afternoon, in Madelyn’s office at Vought Tower.
On the tablet in front of her, footage from the mission scene was playing on a loop.
The father and son advancing in perfect sync, controlling the situation efficiently without casualties, and the cheers they received when they walked out of the building.
She turned off the video, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes.
Vought had gotten everything it wanted from this mission, but the better they worked together, and the more the public embraced the father-son pair, the fewer cards Vought had left to play.
She had to find a way to control Holander.
Madelyn thought this to herself, but for the mont, she really had no good ideas.
Right now, the fact that Holander was not killing her was already good enough.
The footage of the father-son team was replayed over and over online, its view count climbing higher and higher...
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