Page 52 of Harris

“Right about now, you’re wondering if there’s really enough explosives in the box to do what I claim,” Soloman said before leaning down and tipping it in their direction.

“Shit, C-4,” Gator said. “Enough to take out the entire block.”

Soloman set the box back down, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms.

“Do I have to ask the rest of you again to come out? You’re trying my patience. If you think you can outrun the explosion, I assure you, you’re wrong.”

There was a slight movement to Woodley’s and Stryker’s right, as Brick and Griffin walked out, followed by Damon at their back, all guns pointed at Soloman. Darren was nowhere to be seen.

“Your guns are useless. You might as well put them down. You know if you shoot me, I’ll fall off this chair and boom. There’ll be nothing left for the coroner to identify.”

Brick lowered his rifle. “What the fuck do you want?”

“To talk. I’m curious about the team that thinks it’s capable of taking down the far superior Noah Group.”

Check your ego, asshole.

“The Noah Group will be taken down. If not by us, others know of their existence and will take up the cause after our deaths,” Brick said. “You accomplish nothing by doing this.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I get the satisfaction of killing all of you as a warning to the others that if they fight us, their lives will end in the same fate.”

“You’ll never win,” Griffin growled.

“I already have. Did you like the gift I sent to your home, Brick?” Soloman asked.

“Figured you were responsible for that bomb, but again you failed. I guess we hit a nerve when we took down the cult,” Brick said with a confident grin.

Soloman’s face twisted in anger. “It took me over two decades to set that operation up, to control the entire town.”

“Yeah, that had to sting,” Stryker chuckled.

Woodley had to wonder what the hell they were doing, antagonizing the guy, but figured if they were going to die, why not go out in style?

“Then we come here and blow up your bar,” Stryker continued along the same theme.

Perhaps they were all crazy.

“The freaks you’re trying to save are a dime a dozen and are easily disposed of like your friend Robin,” Soloman cackled.Yep, insane.

“You fucker,” Damon hissed before taking a couple steps forward.

Woodley blocked his way, stopping him from charging Soloman and blowing them all to bits of fish food.

“That’s what he wants,” he said. “Soloman thrives on causing pain.”

“Ah, I touched a nerve there. Was he more than a friend? Hmm, maybe your lover,” Soloman chuckled. “Ultimately, his ability was no match for some fishing wire and a sewing needle. Stitched that mouth up before he could utter a word. I must admit it wasn’t as satisfying not being able to hear his screams, but it was necessary.”

Woodley could see Damon’s eyes changing color and the tips of his fingers turning red. Shit was close to going nuclear.

“We have your son,” Brick said, effectively changing the topic. “He’s free now.”

Soloman’s face went white, but he didn’t say a word.

“Yes, we’ve been to your house. The chains you had tying him down were easily removed, and his shock collar is long gone. You fucked with your own son’s DNA. Were you going to leave him there to die?” Brick asked.

“He could’ve been my greatest achievement. He had unimaginable power but refused to use it no matter what I tried, and he became as useless to me as the rest of you. Why wouldn’t I leave him to die? He’s nothing,” Soloman roared. “And neither are any of you. My legacy will live on in infamy, and my name will be talked about in circles of power as the facilitator of a new world order.”

“Yeah, your name will be talked about in medical journals alongside the terms insane egomaniac with delusions of glory,” Brick chuckled.

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