Story Tomorrow is Monday

------------------------------------The Barron ----------------------------------------------------------------

Using less than 3 million in seed money, I managed to create a weapon that will forever change this planet. My name is the Barron.

During the next 90 days I will take over the world, and it all begins tomorrow.

I crash landed on the planet earth in the 1946. I’m the last of my race. We traveled across the galaxy to find a planet where we could grow and live. The few of us that made it to planet earth landed in Lincoln County, Nevada. You may know this place as area 51. The last of my family were imprisoned and our ship destroyed. I managed to escape. I swore vengeance on the United States.

From my Manhattan office. I can see everything. I catch a reflection in the mirror, my pasty white skin has been spray tanned so that I can “fit in”. The facial reconstruction and blond hair implants allow me to move freely among the humans.

After numerous attempts at taking over the world I am as close as I have ever been.

Tomorrow at 12 am, Eastern Standard Time, I will activate mobile phones, electronic devices, and any device connected to the internet. I will transmit an ultrasonic sound and a series of bright lights designed to rewrite the brain circuits behind the predatory instinct. In my lab experiments, this combination has caused ordinary people to become ravenous cannibalistic killing machines. Movement and sound will draw them toward the uninfected which they will kill.

My carefully orchestrated plan will focus on the major metropolitan cities across the United States. I will reign terror across the US and then focus my plans on the other countries if they do not bow down to my demands.

I close my laptop and look out the window. Tomorrow, I will own this country.

-----------------------------------------------------Ghost----------------------------------------------------------

It’s Sunday morning in Alaska, and I’ve been lifting weights and shooting to maintain my edge.

Modern semi-autos are amazing machines. I treat my guns like professional race cars. Before and after every shooting event I clean and maintain them. I have relied on them for so long so I’m of the mindset that gun maintenance is a scheduled event. Regardless of whether they need it or not, I clean them all to prevent rust.

I’ve worked for the Evil Overlord for a long time. “Evil” and the rest of the team retired about 5 years ago. We made our fortune and were ready to settle down. I moved out to Alaska, Evil moved to the Rocky Mountains, Spectre moved back to the UK and Mayhem moved to Utah.

Evil met a beautiful woman and fell in love. Turns out, as luck would have it she was a super hero.

Imagine this, the best assassin, hacker, and Super Villain of all time ended up falling in love with a “super hero.” After the career we had, the irony is not lost on any of us.

I went through my normal shooting drills this morning. I haven’t lost my edge since we decided to all retire.

Spectre, Mayhem, and I were all ex-military. We were also the best at our craft. The press referred to us as Super Villains. That’s a pretty bold statement considering that none of us have super powers. Our only power was a super genius, guns, planning, and technology.

Evil’s the only one of us with true power. He created a nanotechnology that allowed him to become a super soldier. He can access 90%+ percent of his brain and is a genius level polymath. He only sleeps about thirty minutes a day and he is incredibly strong.

He developed exo-suits that increase our strength, mini jet packs, high tech sights, weapons, and technology to take on anyone. It also helped that his plans were meticulous and carefully planned.

Spectre and Mayhem were two of the best combat shooters from the SAS and Rangers respectively. I came from the Marines where I was a recon sniper. The trio of us are probably the best operators in the world with Evil’s exo-suits, scopes, and tech we were unbeatable. He is light years ahead of most modern governments in terms of weapons and technology.

I catch a glimpse of my gray hair and beard. My body looks like that of a much younger man. I still have six pack abs. When I stare at my face, the gray hair, scars, and gray beard tell a different story.

In my line of work, you never know just when you will be needed again. I resume cleaning the bore of the barrel. Old habits, they die hard.


Dedicated to my fav baca @Glock_Fanatic