Chapter Seven

William Smith had been a DMRC agent for nearly 30 years, and he showed it. The balding, pudgy man had long since stopped caring about being gregarious. In his work, good manners were a luxury he couldn't afford. 

The Department for Metahuman Research and Control, commissioned by DARPA to investigate unusual incidents, had the goal of finding candidates for their super-soldier program. Most of the time, it turned out to be false alarms caused by over-panicky people, but sometimes they hit pay dirt. 

There was Kyle from Ohio, who could crush cars with his mind, currently deployed in Somalia. Then there was Marie from New Orleans, who could paralyze people with her touch, and Rosalita from Florida, who could become invisible. Both were in Afghanistan running black ops together. 

Of all the cases Agent Smith had been on, this was the first time he had a personal interest in the subject. Although the face had become more angular and the nose broader, there was no mistaking it: Travis Turner was Subject Prometheus from Project Hellfire.

Agent Smith reached down to get his cuffs when the EEG machine exploded.

The boy opened his eyes. "Long time no see, Billy. Consider this payback for all the times you experimented on us." 

Agent Smith screamed, then crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from his shattered nose. Another man in a suit entered the room and gasped; he introduced himself as Agent Anderson, Agent Smith's partner.

***

Pro glared at him, a softball-sized fireball in his hand as he trembled with fear mixed with adrenaline.

Agent Anderson backed up, holding out his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. Follow me, and we'll get you out here," he said in a soothing voice, his hands shaking and eyes wide.

"As if you could hurt us. Let's get one thing straight. I'll ice anyone who tries to make us a guinea pig again. Understand?"

Agent Anderson's hand hovered over his gun. "If anything happens to me, you can kiss your freedom goodbye." 

Pro laughed. "Try me. I'd done melted that pea shooter before you even got a shot off."

Outwardly he was cocky, but inside, Pro was scared shitless. But he had to keep up the act. 

Agent Anderson broke out in a sweat. Then the fluid in Travis's IV bag boiled before bursting. Pro smirked as the bedding and furniture smoldered, then burst into flames. More alarms blared, and people screamed as the hospital went into lockdown.

Agent Anderson drew his gun, hands shaking. "What the hell? You just turned a simple extraction into a cluster fuck."

Pro sized up the baby-faced man in front of him. Why should I care?" 

Sighing, Agent Anderson ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "I'm trying to be nice here, but if you'd rather I call my superiors and deal with them, be my guest."

 Pro's veins filled with ice, but he inclined his head, rose from the bed, and in a fluid movement, grabbed Agent Anderson by the neck and lifted him off the ground. "Why shouldn't I kill you?"

"Jenny's waiting to drive you to my friend's house. He holds Ph.D.'s in molecular chemistry and genetics and has experience with cases like yours," he said, his voice hoarse and high-pitched. 

He paused a moment. "I bet' not find out you lying, or it's that ass."

Agent Anderson nodded, and Pro released him.

He took in a big, gulping breath. "Was that called for?"

Pro ripped the IV from his arm and removed the EEG and heart monitor leads from his body. "Like I said, I ain't going back there." 

"Thanks to that little stunt of yours, we have five-ten minutes max--before the police swarm this place. Not to mention Homeland Security will be sniffing around come tomorrow. Come on!" Agent Anderson yelled over the chaos and pulled Pro with him. They ran into Jenny on the stairs and filled her in on the way to the car. 

As the trio exited the garage, The Michigan State Police stopped them.

"Great. How are we going to get away now?" Jenny whined.

Pro smiled. "I'll handle it." 

Agent Anderson shook his head. "You've done enough." 

"You got any better ideas?"

"No."

"Then either make with the planning or STFU," he said, hopping out of the car. He cracked his knuckles and neck. 

The lead officer approached Pro. "Something the matter, son?"

"Depends," he said.

Jenny stuck her head out her window. "Don't mind him, officer. He's just stretching his legs. We'll be moving along as soon as he gets back in the car." She shot him a dirty look.

The officer stared at her hard. "I'm afraid I can't allow that, miss. Everyone's to stay put until we determine the cause of the explosion at the hospital." 

Agent Anderson flashed his badge. "Officer Davison, is it? There's no need for you to keep us here. This is official government business, and if you'd like, I can call my superiors and have them--"  

"Bored," Pro said, melting the cop's gun and flinging him into his car with a telekinetic blast. 

However, before they could escape, two black hawk helicopters landed, and soldiers surrounded them.

"How about you save yourself some trouble and come along nice and easy?" the commanding officer said.

"How 'bout you suck deez nuts?" Pro unleashed a shockwave that left a three-foot-deep hole in the street, knocking most of the soldiers unconscious. The few still battle-ready prepared to open fire. However, shrapnel impaled them when Pro exploded their helicopters. 

Not satisfied, he exploded things around him at random, reveling in the pandemonium. For so long, he'd been trapped, and now that he was free, he was going to do it up big. Screw the consequences. Travis could deal with them.

Jenny shielded her eyes from the smoke and crept toward Pro. "Stop this, sweetie. We're safe. You're safe." 

"I finally have a bit of fun, and you want me to stop? Hell naw!" 

Pro continued his rampage until he felt a prick in his neck and turned. Jenny was holding a hypodermic needle.

"You suck."

 His vision blurred, and the world went black.   

 

Author's note: Pro has gotten Travis into a clusterfuck, and next chapter will see him dealing with the fallout. Plus, Travis's powers amp up, with explosive consequences, forcing him to start training to control them.

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