Lincoln grasped at his chest, staggering backwards as the bullet tore into his chest. He held up his hand to see it covered in blood. He sniffed at it. Yes, it was his own. His thought that it might just have been a ball of someone else’s blood that had been shot at him was, in retrospect, a little too optimistic.
“Well, that seems to confirm that theory,” Booth gave a low, guttural laugh. “How does it feel, Lincoln? To know that once again, you’ve been taken down by the greatest actor the world has ever known, John Wilkes Booth.”
“At least…I won’t have to listen to…your ego ranting…anymore,” Lincoln gasped. Atta boy, Abe! Don’t let them see you sweat!
“That’s right Lincoln, keep laughing. After all, it’s only one bullet, right? It’s not like you’ve never felt one before.”
“You know the old saying…gloaters…never prosper,” Abe fell to his knees, wincing in pure agony.
“Then it appears that old saying is wrong. For you see, I am a gloater. And look at how much I’m prospering!” Booth did a little victory dance in front of his fallen opponent. But don’t applaud his dancing skills, because he’s a bad guy!
“So…you took me all the way to the Moon…just to kill me?” Lincoln tried to concentrate, his vision blurring.
“Well, yes,” Booth shrugged. “A bit overdramatic I know, but what do you want? I’m an actor. Although admittedly I didn’t originally plan for a bullet to do the job. And I hoped you’d at least put up a struggle before going down. In fact, I’m a little disappointed. Oh well, you’ll soon be crashing into the Moon, so hopefully that will make up for it.”
“What?” Lincoln moaned, sliding closer to the floor.
“Oh, sorry, did I forget to mention? This 3dIM was never going to actually land on the Moon. You see, I knew you’d chase after me, and I knew you wouldn’t stop until you took me down for good. But you see Lincoln, I’d already had it all worked out.
“I reconfigured this 3dIM so that, instead of providing safe transport to the Moon, it would in fact cut out at the last minute and go into a collision course with the lunar surface! You may be strong, but even if you survived the initial explosion, you’d be hard pressed to do well without any air. Mind you, without your Lincoln powers, you might be dead before we even make it to good old Lunar.
“Of course, crashing into the Moon won’t do much good for old Mother Earth either. Oh, there’ll probably be some tidal waves, maybe a few showers of falling rock from the debris. Possibly someone’s fields will be spoilt by the charred remains of an ex-President. In any event, it’s sure to put a crimp in a few million people’s day.”
“Booth…you’re insane,” Lincoln grunted. “You’ll…kill yourself…too.”
“Or so you’d think, you bearded buffoon. But the shadowy organisation that brought me back to life have other plans. Or didn’t you realise they had the ability to teleport me throughout space? How silly of me not to inform you. But then, how do you think I made it into WIPE headquarters in the first place? Through the front door?”
Though he was in too much pain to express it, Abe imagined that the front door would have had the same effect.
“Ah, speak of the devil,” Booth smiled, becoming wavy and transparent as the teleportation took effect. “In a very literal sense, I assure you. Don’t feel too bad, Lincoln. Mighty though you may be, you just weren’t enough to take on the awesome majesty that is our evil cabal. And let this be a lesson to all that in the end, evil will always win over good.
“Oh, and before I forget…sic semper tyrannis, pro verus!”
The terrible sounds of the madman’s horrible laughter echoed throughout the room as he disappeared from view, leaving Lincoln all alone as the Moon appeared ever larger on the viewing screen.
Well, not all alone. The unconscious body of Blake Dynamite was still there. But fat lot of good he’d do. Stupid unconscious idiot.
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