July 20th, 2022
Johnathan woke up early, left a note that he’d be gone all day for his mom and dad, and started his six-hour drive to Albuquerque. He left at 7 a.m. The drive was uneventful. Just after 1. p.m., he turned onto Osuna Rd in Albuquerque and pulled into the parking area. As he drove into the parking lot, he noticed an SUV with very heavily tinted windows in a perfect ambush position for anyone walking up to the door to enter the two-story building.
Why was he thinking of it as an ambush position? Suddenly multiple references came to mind from various Tom Clancy and Shadowrun novels he’d read. It seemed that his mind was defending the logical conclusion it had come to. Was he arguing with himself? No. But it was good to know that his mind had taken advantage of all the information he had access to. He thought about how best to respond to a possible ambush, considered his options, and made his choice.
He drove his car through the parking lot until he could park one space away from the SUV. He made sure that the driver of the SUV would be able to easily see what he was doing with his hands. When Johnathan thought enough time had passed, he pulled out his wallet and removed the ticket. He made sure to look like he was double-checking it against his phone before he hopped up and down excitedly. He unbuckled his seat belt and used a little sleight of hand to place the lottery ticket in the driver-side sun visor, behind the vanity mirror where it wouldn’t be easily discovered.
He stepped out of the Rogue, locked it, and turned to walk towards the Headquarters door. He’d heard the SUV’s passenger door open and close as he opened and closed his car door. The other person was making their way around the back of their SUV when he also heard the telltale of a hammer being pulled back and locked on a gun of some kind. The driver-side door of the SUV opened, and a burly man stepped out as he said, “Excuse me, Sir,” and moved to place himself between the headquarters business door and Johnathan, which he’d assumed would make Johnathan turn his back on his accomplice that was coming up behind him. As Johnathan turned towards the burly man he noticed the tip of a gun barrel, no, a silencer coming out from behind the back of the SUV pointing in his direction, and forced himself into action as he thought, There is no Spoon!”
Time stood still as Jonathan’s mind went into hyperdrive. At a fundamental level, he’d started believing what Abi had told him. Now, he fully believed what Abi had told him as the thought There is no Spoon went through his mind. The realization made him feel as if the Red Pill had well and truly kicked him in the gut. There was no adjustment, there was no morphing as new muscles grew. The only thing that needed to happen was for Johnathan to make a mental adjustment, which he did easily. Instantly the being that was Johnathan shifted from a young 21-year-old man who believed himself to be normal to that of a level 5,000 level human the likes of which had never existed before in this Universe.
Jonathan reviewed the situation analytically and broke it down: The gun is drawn. It is pointed at me. The individual is attacking from stealth. There is a high probability he or she is going for a kill shot. The burly man in front of him is a decoy. He positioned himself a little to his right which would allow any bullet to pass through his chest or head and have a very small chance of hitting his accomplice. Response Level? Terminal response with no direct evidence of him killing anyone. 99.9% probability of success. A part of his mind was worried about how little compassion was being utilized in the decision he’d come to as the rest of his mind took over and his body reacted.
Johnathan wasn’t an evil person. If he had to choose an alignment from a Role-Playing game, he considered himself neutral with a few moral laws he held to, leaning towards good tendencies. Today though none of that mattered. He’d decided long ago “If it comes down to you or me, I chose me.” And that asshole behind him had pointed a weapon that only had one purpose, to kill silently. All those thoughts passed through his head in less than a tenth of a second.
Johnathan changed his voice and pitch and used ventriloquism to throw it toward the back of the vehicle where he predicted the shooter’s head would be coming into view. He’d been to a Jeff Dunham concert and taken the time to learn how to throw his voice a couple of years ago because he thought it was a pretty cool skill. Like everything else he tried to learn, doing so had come easily. This time when he tried to throw his voice the changes he’d undergone made the attempt work 1,818% better and it worked flawlessly as his modified voice called out from the back of the SUV as it called out “Freeze!” Why? First, he had to make sure there was absolutely no doubt that he was being jumped by someone. Second, to make it look like the shooter was trying to hold him up so Johnathan would have had a justified reason to act the way he planned to.
With his insanely high Agility, Dexterity, and Strength, Johnathan waited until the gun was drawn up and pointed at his chest, then moved. He tried to make all of his movements look as natural as possible. He utilized his martial arts training and performed a typical throw with a couple of adjustments. At eighteen times the speed and strength of a normal human, the results were just as he’d anticipated. He’d grabbed the burly man, pulling him towards himself, and performed the tomoe nage technique by gripping high and falling backward. He aimed and then released his opponent. Johnathan continued the roll and appeared to fall and be dragged toward the shooter. Johnathan had made sure to line the now-flying man’s head up with the projected trajectory of the bullet path.
Everything seemed to be moving slowly to Johnathan. He felt that if he wanted to, he could have performed more actions, but he didn’t. It would be better for everything to appear as natural as possible on any video or camera surveillance that was recording this. Johnathan moved with his opponent and made sure that he’d stayed very close to him, adjusting his own roll to make it appear as if his body was tumbling and being dragged along. Johnathan positioned himself to stay behind and to the right of the thrown man to ensure that the highest probability of the path the bullet would take wouldn’t hit him and also stayed far enough forward that the blood spray that would shoot from the back of the burly man’s skull wouldn’t hit him.
Johnathan heard a “Pfft”, saw the burly man’s head start to explode in slow motion, and adjusted their trajectory so his opponent collided with the shooter in such a way that Johnathan could make two things happen. First, the shooter would be knocked off his feet, and second, Johnathan would be able to bring his hand up between the bodies, grab the shooter by the neck, and force his head down so that it crashed into the curb, crushing the back of his neck and skull, killing the shooter instantly. After those minor adjustments, he let physics and gravity do the rest and tumbled with the bodies.
After everything was done, he adjusted so that his hands remained visible to anyone coming up on the mass of bodies and waited. As his perception of time returned to normal, there were a couple of screams, and moments later a police officer with a gun drawn moved up to the mass of tangled bodies.
“I’m alive,” Johnathan muttered.
The police officer kept his gun pointed at the mass of bodies and said “I can see your hands, don’t move, help is on the way.”
“Yes, Officer, I’m not going anywhere,” Johnathan responded with a sigh.
For the next fifteen minutes, the Police officer kept his gun pointed in Johnathan’s general direction and would ask, “Are you doing okay under there?”
To which Johnathan would simply respond “Sure” or “As good as can be expected” or with “How much longer is this going to be?”
To the last question, the officer responded with, “We need to wait so we can document the scene. The less you disturb it, the better off you’ll be”
Johnathan had responded with a resigned, “Well, okay then,” and waited quietly.
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After the forensic team arrived, pictures were taken, and everything was cataloged. The gun was retrieved first, then the area was searched for any other weapons. They found another weapon on the burly man. Once they were sure there were no more weapons, they allowed him to stand, then cataloged everything on him. Then they had him remove his clothes and allowed him to use hand wipes to clean up in the ambulance. They gave him some underwear, shorts, and a shirt to wear and had him put everything he was wearing and had been carrying in a plastic bag. The next four hours were tedious, but he endured them. Once they checked his identification, Johnathan informed them of his seven different black belts in various martial arts. At that point, the police officers gave him a slightly wider birth, though they never treated him like he was a criminal.
Sitting in the back of the Ambulance while a paramedic looked him over, a detective opened up the back and stepped in closing the door behind him. “Johnathan Bennard?” he asked.
“Yes, Detective,” Johnathan answered
“My name is Detective Rodriguez, we need to take you down to the station to fill out some paperwork. Any issues with that?” Detective Rodriguez asked.
“Am I under arrest?” Johnathan asked
“Nope, though charges could be brought against you later if the evidence requires it,” He said.
Looking at the medic he asked, “Excuse me, what’s your name?”
“Laura Ford, why are you asking?” she responded.
“Because you're my witness, Miss Ford,” he responded. Johnathan looked at the Detective to make sure he had his attention and then continued, “I am voluntarily going with you to the station for the purpose of answering any questions you might have that I do not feel could be used against me concerning the death of these two men. Should I be considered, detained, or arrested at any time it is understood that I will say ‘I want a Lawyer’ and I will not utter another word until legal counsel is present.”
“Understood. As soon as paramedic Ford is done with you I’ll escort you to the station,” Detective Rodriguez said. “Might I ask why you thought you needed a witness?”
“Government 101. On the first day of class, my professor gave a very long and compelling speech that convinced me of one thing. If the police detain or arrest you, ask for a lawyer. With Ms. Ford as my witness, we both know that I have stated what I’m going to do. Of course, I could forget to do that, but if you’ve been doing your research over the last four hours, you know how unlikely it is that I will forget anything,” Jonathan said with a smile.
“Still don’t believe what came across in your file, but if it’s even half true, yeah, don’t see you forgetting to ask for the lawyer,” The detective said.
Johnathan wasn’t arrested, but he had to wait at the station. They were nice enough to let him shower and even gave him a new set of clothes to replace the ones he’d put on at the scene to gather whatever evidence they could. The investigation went on for hours. After everything was said and done, the witnesses and time-lapsed camera recording of the incident made it quite clear that the two men had exited their SUV in a classic ambush move, and when the word “freeze” was uttered by the shooter, whose face was obscured,
The investigators submitted their report which stated that Johnathan had acted in a non-lethal way to put the attacker in front of him behind him. It was just dumb luck that the idiot had grabbed and pulled Johnathan towards the shooter which had resulted in his death and the death of the shooter. There was no way to tell exactly whose weight had contributed to the shooter's death or if it had been a combination of both their weights; it really didn’t matter. Detective Rodriguez informed Johnathan that the District Attorney (DA) had looked at the evidence and wanted nothing to do with the case. As far as the DA was concerned, the guy Johnathan threw, Havier Sanchez, had been shot and killed by the shooter, one Richard Almendez. Mr. Almendez had died when the corpse of Havier landed on him and shoved the back of his head into the curb. Case closed.
“You have no idea how lucky you are that the shooter was taken out the way he was,” Detective Rodriguez told him. “I do have one question though, why were you going to the Lottery Headquarters?” he asked.
“Well Detective, I drove over here from Clovis because I needed to check and see if I could claim my winnings,” he answered truthfully.
“How much did you win?” Detective Rodriguez asked
Looking to the detective, Johnathan responded, “Once I have made my claims and been officially documented as a winner of whatever amount I may have won, I will answer all the questions you might have concerning my motivations for coming to Albuquerque. The reasons will be on the public record after tomorrow anyway,” Johnathan said with a smile.
Not wanting to deal with a lawyer, Detective Rodriguez let it go and nodded. “That’s fine, I think we’re done here for tonight.”
All of his personal items were returned to him after they were cataloged and cleaned. They kept his clothes, which he knew he wasn’t getting back any time soon, if ever. Johnathan thanked the officers for their time and asked if one of them could drop him off at his car which was still parked over by the Lottery Headquarters. Once he was in his car, he looked up a Best Western on his phone and drove to it. He called Detective Rodriguez, and let him know where they could find him if they needed to, making sure to record the call on his smartphone, just in case.
Once he arrived at the Best Western, he made sure to grab the lottery ticket and headed to his room. He picked up a newspaper from the front desk and once he was in his room, he took a picture of the lottery ticket next to the date on the newspaper with the Best Western Albuquerque placard above it and his thumb fingerprint towards the camera. He saved the photo on his phone, in the cloud, and also emailed it to his alternate email address. He also sent a message to his parents, letting them know he was out of town for the night, but that he should be back tomorrow.
The next day was somewhat anticlimactic. He had no issues at the Lottery Headquarters. Johnathan was led in. He showed his lottery ticket to one of the tellers and was led back to a private office. A few minutes later, a woman in a business suit came in with a sheath of papers. After everything was verified, Johnathan signed and claimed the 560 million dollar Jackpot. He of course decided on the lump sum which meant he only won about 360 million dollars which after taxes ended up being 190,800,000. 47% had been taken for taxes. He might or might not see that money some time in the future; he wasn’t worried about it though. Plans had been forming in his mind last night about what he was going to do and what he needed to do, especially concerning his finances.
Next, he stopped by Citibank and deposited 100 dollars to open an account. After the account was created he spoke with the branch manager about what was about to happen to his accounts. Johnathan also contacted one of the better Legal firms in town and put two of their lawyers on retainer at 150% of their going rate and made sure that they knew that so long as his capital kept increasing, they would have a job working for him. He made sure that his accountants would leave 20 million for him to give to his parents as an outright gift, and to make sure that at least $1 million of any profits made each year would go to an expense account he had created for them. 50 million was going to be his to do with as he saw fit. 70 million was to be invested into the low-risk stocks. His accountants were managing his safety net. He would be using the last 50 million to learn how to earn through the stock market.
Finally, he went back to the precinct and let Detective Rodriguez know that he’d won the Jackpot and had claimed his winnings and that if they didn’t need him for anything else he’d be heading back to Clovis that evening. The Detective thanked him for his time and let him know he was free to head home. Johnathan made sure to get that in writing before he left.
Johnathan had an uneventful trip back to Clovis and arrived home around 10 p.m. He heard the TV on in the living room and went in to see his mom and dad watching one of the new Amazon Prime shows. Reaching for the remote, his dad paused the TV and asked him, “Son, what happened to your clothes?”
Figuring it was better to be fully honest, Johnathan said, “I was mugged in Albuquerque yesterday when I stopped by the Mega Millions Jackpot Lottery Headquarters. One of my muggers accidentally shot the other mugger and then was killed by the mugger I’d thrown at him when he fell into him wrong. I got caught up in the middle of it and was covered in their blood. The cops confiscated my clothes and gave me what I’m wearing.”
Johnathan’s Father looked at his mother. His mother looked at him and then said, “Seriously Johnathan, where are your clothes?” his mom asked. Which is exactly what he knew she was going to do. When the truth was not something his mother wanted to hear or wasn’t something she could process at face value, she automatically thought he was lying.
“Seriously, Mom. Here is a copy of the police report,” Johnathan said, handing it to her. Turning to his father he continued, “Here is something for the both of you,” Johnathan said as he handed over a folder prepared by Citibank with his mother and father's account information and the estimated amount of money that would be deposited in six to eight weeks. His mom looked over the police report while his dad looked through the documents Johnathan had handed him. Then his dad pulled out his phone and activated his Citibank app, adding the account number from the paperwork in front of him to his accounts and read the information. Johnathan, now absolutely pleased with himself, waited and started a mental countdown; “Three, two, one…” and then he smiled as both his mother and father started questioning him at once.