“Lincooooooln” the Commissioner jumped into the path of the oncoming bullet. He may have been foolish enough to follow Booth around for the past few weeks, but he could still redeem himself by stopping the devil from another successful assassination.
“Don’t worry, Commissioner,” said Lincoln, catching the Commissioner in mid-air. “I think Mr. Booth will find things aren’t all that they seem. Observe.”
He held up the bullet for all to see.
“It seems that among my new powers, I’m quicker than the human eye,” Abe smiled, crushing the bullet into dust. “But I appreciate your sentiment, Commissioner. It means a lot to know a man will take a bullet for you.”
“Ah, it was nothing. Just my way of saying ‘sorry for helping the bad guy’.”
“You’re not to blame, Commissioner. Now what’s say we take down this confounded confederate once and for all?”
“Sounds good to me, Mr. President!”
“Oh, how very touching,” Booth sneered. “If you two girls can stop with your little friendship bracelet making, you may have noticed I’m halfway out the window.”
“Why would you alert us to that?” the Commissioner mused.
“And more importantly, where are you off to?” Lincoln demanded.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Indeed I would. That’s why I asked you.”
“Well I’m not going to tell you. But I will say this.”
Booth pressed the button on the intercom he’d been holding. “Murphy, this is the Director,” he said in his womanly voice. “Lincoln and the Commissioner have gone mad and made me invisible. They’re planning to destroy WIPE! Get in here and kill them!”
Booth threw the intercom away. “Adios, Lincoln! So sorry your death couldn’t be at my own hand, but I’ve got a play to catch!”
The sinister sound of the madman’s laughter rang clearly as he fell to the ground below. Lincoln went to grab him, but before he could reach the window, he was caught from behind by one of the office doors. There, muscles bursting and face a’frowning, was Murphy Hindle, the security guard.
“What did you do to the Director?!” he screamed.
“Hindle, stand down!” the Commissioner ordered. “The Director was actually John Wilkes Booth in disguise! He just leapt out that window!”
“Lies!” Hindle beat his chest in anger. “You made the Director invisible! Now you must pay!”
“Don’t worry, Commissioner. I’ll make short work of this deluded doorman.”
Lincoln wound up and delivered a mighty punch towards Hindle’s solar plexus. But to his astonishment, the guard merely stood there, as if he’d only been grazed by a fly.
“What the…?” Lincoln looked confusedly at his fist. “But I put all my strength into that blow. Unless…oh no!”
“Lincoln, what’s wrong?” the Commissioner asked, trying to find something heavy he could use to smack around Hindle’s head.
“My Lincoln powers…I think they’ve run out!”
Oh no! Talk about inconveniences! Is this the end of our hero?
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