In an FBI office, there was agent Ace Bullet. He was a former partner to agent John Holtsman.
The head of the FBI came into the meeting room where Ace Bullet was at the moment. The head of the FBI’s name was agent Joshua Holtsman, brother of John Holtsman.
“All right people,” Joshua said, walking over to the whiteboard, “This is David.”
And Josh pins a picture of David on the whiteboard. “And these are his targets.” Josh pinned 8 of John’s old friends to the board. “He’s killed two so far including my brother, John. Now, his intended purpose when blowing up the courthouse in Las Vegas was so that no one knew his story. But, this was recovered in the judge’s arms after the explosion.”
Joshua slaps a document on the table. “Someone named Colin Drake’s record.”
“But why is that specific record out of the hundreds of records in the courthouse saved?” another agent said.
“That,” Joshua said, “is the question of the day, isn’t it? He’s not a target, but he’s related to David somehow.”
“This can’t just be a coincidence. He must want us to know his plans. But the question is why?” Agent Ree said, the FBI behavioral analyst.
“Exactly,” senior agent Edward Snife said. “I worked here a long time with enough criminals to know that a criminal’s mind is open. They share their ideas with the world if they must. If they’re going to kill, they might as well make a show of it.”
“I think it’s best to let the victims know what David’s going to do. Put them in hiding. Witness protection,” said field agent Marcas Lewinsky.
“And we also need to know the killer David,” said Agent Snife, “if we’re going to crack the case, we’ll need everything on this guy.”
“Thank you, agent Snife, I was getting to that,” Josh said, “we don’t know anything of why he’s doing any of this except that he needs to be stopped.”
“Okay, we don’t know why, what about the how?” said Ree. “ How can he survive both a chemical injection made to kill skinny criminals like him and a nuclear blast?”
“You know, that’s a good point, Ree, if we can find out this guy’s superiority, maybe we can figure out his weakness,” said Agent Bullet.
A man in a black suit walks in the room, handing the chief a piece of security tape. “Someone left this on my desk,” he said.
“How can you tell it’s David’s?”
“It’s labeled BLINDMAN. And didn’t we say that David was once blind?”
“Yes, thank you, Agent Hall,” the chief said, “we’ll take it from here.”
The chief put the tape on an old TV. “Now let’s see, HTML or HTMIL?” He clicked a button and before even entering the tape, David was on TV. He was in a bank in Washington by the looks of things.
David looked the same as he did after he killed those people. Dark hair, blue eyes, blood on his shirt. It seemed he was about to give a speech.
“10 years ago, on my birthday, some bullies dunked my head in toxic waste. Did they go to jail? No, rich college boys don’t go to jail. Only me. They killed one of my best friends, pushing him in toxic waste. I no longer am targeting the bullies that blinded me as a child. I got my sight back, nothing to get revenge about. Instead, I want the world. I realize it wasn’t the bullies’ fault. It was everyone else’s. The world did this to me and the world shall bend to my knees.”
“Agent Mack, can you trace his signal?!” Joshua said.
“I’ll try,” said a young, skinny black man who starts typing on a computer.
“Now I speak to the FBI who I see are watching me. You think learning my background will help you? I want the world to suffer and fear. You will all die at my hands. I have nuclear bombs set up on all 4 corners of New York city. This will be entertaining. How will you do this without the guy who made the bombs?”
David reveals a nuclear physicist sitting next to him with his hand beside him.
“So tell me, how many nuclear physicists are in America, Doctor Zalkine?”
“9 thousand 6 hundred and 3.” Zalkine said.
“And how many can shut these bombs down?” David asked.
David mumbled, “Only you, hmm.” David shot two bullets in Doctor Zalkine’s head.
“If you want to shut them down, come and get me at the bank in Washington on 44th avenue Pentil Street. For every hour you don’t come, I will shoot a hostage… starting now.”
David aimed his gun at the camera man and the camera went off.
At the bank, the FBI showed up, just as they said. Along with the SWAT team and the local police, the state police, the firefighters, and a few ambulances.
FBI agents stepped out of their black cars.
“I don’t like this,” agent Edward Snife said, “it’s too easy. We come to talk to him and he just lets everyone go and gives us the codes to stop the nuclear attack?”
“I thought the smart thing to do would be to get to New York,” Agent Mack said, “you know, bring along the bomb squad and shut those bombs down. But no, we had to listen to the psychopath--”
“WATCH WHO YOU’RE CALLING PSYCHOPATH, AGENT MACK DATESON,” David siad, through a megaphone.
Everyone starts chuckling and a few muffled laughs.. “Uh, it’s pronounced dentson,” Agent Mack had said.
“OH YEAH LIKE THAT MAKES IT ANY BETTER.,” David said. David then walked out of the door. Several of them pointed their guns right at him.
David puts his hands in the air, suspiciously smiling. “Get on the ground,” one of the SWAT said.
David does so, but Agent Mack noticed he has some sort of remote in his hand. “STOP!” Mack exclaimed, but it was too late, the button had been pressed and about 50 civilians behind the police tape got blown up, and he pressed a button below it, 40 cops got blown to bits. Before he could kill any more civilians, he was shot in the head by agent Mack.
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