Terrell Bradham's house was a humble, one-story residence whose exterior was made entirely from bricks. There was a main door with a vertical, oval-shaped, one-way window in the middle of it, and a large, rectangular, brilliant-white garage door out front housing two cars inside of it. The roof was composed of chipped shingles and possessed a chimney, indicating the presence of a fireplace somewhere inside the house. The front yard was surprisingly well-maintained, its grass blades shining a healthy shade of green and its flower pots clean as a whistle.
Herman pulled up to the driveway in his motorcycle, then shut off the engine and disembarked. He walked up the short cement path to the main door and rang the doorbell once.
After a while, a thin, somewhat-young African-American man with short black hair, a black t-shirt, a gold chain hanging around his neck, brown cargo pants, and white socks answered the door, his head still looking down at his phone.
"Look, man, my pop-pop don't want to see anyone at the moment.....you gotta go to his phone number if you want a chat," he mumbled.
"Psst. Look up," Herman instructed.
The newcomer took his eyes off his phone and glanced upward to see who had come to visit them. The thermal visor tilted upward above his eyes, the .30 Carbine strapped to his back, and the bulletproof vest affixed to his front all made the hero quickly distinguishable.
"No......no way! You're Herman.....one of the eight Paragons! Thank you so much for your service, sir!" the chain-wearing man squealed ecstatically. "What the heck are you doing here? .....Are Pop-Pop and I getting recruited to join you guys?!"
Herman blinked a couple of times in disbelief. ".....Umm.....no. I was hoping to get in contact with someone named Terrell Bradham? The MHPD and I have identified him as a person of interest regarding the police kidnappings taking place across the country."
"Oof.....yeah, I've heard of those. Poor guys.....hope their families are alright. This is all very scary, for sure....."
"Yes. So.....can you put me in touch with him?"
"I'm his grandson, Monty Bradham," he introduced. "Hang back here a sec, 'cuz.....I'll let him know you're here."
He turned his head around and hollered back into the house. "Hey, Pops! There's someone here to see you!"
"Tell them to go away!" a third, old, weathered voice yelled back from inside the house, no doubt belonging to Terrell himself. "I'm busy!"
"But Pops, it's Herman! One of the Paragons! Don't you want to know what he's doing at our house?!"
Terrell took a while to respond, but ultimately relented. "Interesting.....let him in, then!"
Monty stepped to the side of the main door and ushered for Herman to step in, which the Paragon complied with. Once he was officially inside the house, both he and Monty walked to the living room to group up with Terrell.
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The three sat together on the couches in the living room, with Terrell's television on pause in front of them.
"So you're Herman of the Paragons....." Terrell mused, looking the boy up and down observantly. "One of the ones without superpowers.....and yet you saved us all during the Battle of Times Square. Quite admirable, boy.....real admirable."
"Thank you, sir. But that's in the past now," Herman replied. "On to the reason why I wanted to talk to you....."
"What might that be?"
YOU ARE READING
Mastermind
Teen Fiction~PARAGON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE: PHASE 2, BOOK 2~ *This novel serves as the 2nd novel of Phase 2 and a sequel to "The Paragons". The events of this novel and the previous one, "Spark of the Rebellion", take place at the same time.* "It's true what they...
