The man stepped out of the black, company issued,
Chrysler sedan. Flanked by two taller, burlier men, and pursued by a woman struggling to keep up, the man made his way towards the research facility ahead.
"Hurry up will you? Or we might be late." His words were crisp and clear, finding their way right into the ears.
"I'm sorry Mr. Spiro, but-"
"There's a reason why I don't like it much when you wear heels Sarah. Besides, we're going to a possibly hazardous research facility, not a fashion show." The words leaving the man's mouth were saturated with contradictions.
First, the crew was 5 minutes early.
The intercom at the front door beeped on. "Hello, please state your business at Morningside."
"Paul Spiro, representative from Paragon Incorporated Head Quarters." A retina and fingerprint scan ensued before the door before them slid open.
"We've been expecting you Mr. Spiro." When they walked inside, Paul wasn't surprised to see the greeting office empty. It was amazing how much better computer voices had become, but they were still a tad bit off.
Second, Paul didn't like his secretary wearing high heels because it drew her closer to his own height.
The four walked down a few corridors before picking up the commotion radiating from the cafeteria. Course was adjusted to head towards the sounds, there was bound to be staff there. Chaos ensued upon arrival. Some strange thing seemed riled up and about to start something even as the crew walked in. The two large men's hands disappeared inside of their suit jackets but reappeared after a speeding projectile seemed to calm the mutant down.
Third, the four were dressed as if on their way to a fashion show. The larger men were dressed in black suits and ties with white shirts underneath, while Paul and his secretary were dressed in grey suites, black ties, and a white shirt/blouse. Black shoes for everyone, and of course everything was designer. The only thing that seemed off was the unsymmetrical bulge on the left side of the chest of the two accompanying men. The men were originally supposed to be carrying moderately sized sub-machine guns on straps, but Paul found that to look a bit unprofessional. Instead they packed 45 caliber pistols at their hips, and light SMGs that accounted for the bulges.
Paul traced the rubber bullet to what looked like two security officers not far from their current location. "Excuse me," He spoke while approaching the two. "would you know who's in charge here?" Paul held out his ID, "Paul Spiro, I'm with Paragon's head quarters." To the point, no nonsense, professional. Perfect. The two men at his sides tried their best to look intimidating, and Paul had even instructed Sarah to hold a clipboard. It was all so melodramatic...He loved it.