Cut to — a black car splashed through a puddle of water on the road.
Downtown Los Angeles, present day —
Two black cars in succession raced towards Staples Center, where loud cheers of over 20,000 people erupted as they watched their basketball game.
At the top of the Convention Center south hall parking, a bespectacled man in his 40s smoked while waiting inside his car. Wearing a white lab coat, the man shook in his boots and thought smoking was a good way to calm his nerves.
The two black cars reached their destination as three armed men, in matching black suits, stepped out from the first vehicle.
The first man scanned his surroundings.
“Northside, clear,” he spoke into his mic.
“Eastside, clear,” the second man announced.
“Westside, clear,” the third man declared.
Two men got out of the second car to check the south side. A man who appeared to be their leader exited the second vehicle.
“Jon?” the jittery scientist opened his car door. “Are you Jon?”
“Good evening, Doctor Stanley Lucas,” Jon chuckled.
“What took you so long?” Dr. Lucas complained as he stepped out of his car. “I’ve been waiting here for over an hour,” he looked around him. “You need to protect me. Somebody or something just wiped out my entire team.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting. You know, there’s a big game playing tonight,” Jon said as he rubbed his hands together. “You have what Mr. Lee wants?”
“Yes, yes,” Dr. Lucas replied while wiping his sweat from his forehead. “They’re in the car.”
Jon signaled the first man to get the stuff.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Dr. Lucas voiced his concern again. “I said, the rest of my team is dead. Something killed them.”
“Relax, Dr. Lucas,” Jon sneered. “My guys are professionals. They’re the best.”
“They better be. I am scared $hitless.”
On the south side —
The fourth man checked the surrounding. “Negative.”
“Nothing here either,” the fifth man confirmed.
Startled, the two men aimed their gun towards the open elevator. The fifth man walked towards the lift and checked inside.
“It’s empty,” he turned to face his companion, but from the wall of the elevator — an almost invisible figure came alive, slicing the fifth man’s neck. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air. There was no blood as he fell to the ground.
“$hit!” the fourth man screamed.
In slow motion, he pointed his gun at the transparent figure. It stabbed him right in the chest. Again, no blood and no mess.
“Southside, are we clear?” the first man asked. No answers.
“Southside, are we clear?” he repeated. He got nothing.
“Sir,” the second man stared at his boss. “It doesn’t look good.”
“Dr. Lucas,” Jon commanded while showing some concern. “Get in the car.”
The third man aimed his gun towards the south side while the second man got in, sitting right beside Dr. Lucas.
“Go,” Jon ordered the driver. “We’ll catch up.”
“Doctor,” Jon advised Dr. Lucas. “We must not keep Mr. Kevin Lee waiting.”
As the first car raced away, Jon caught something out of the corner of his eye. A mysterious shadow on the floor approached them.
“Did you see that?” Jon pointed to the floor. “Look at the godd@mn floor!”
A transparent sword pierced out of the third man’s chest. No blood came out as the blade retracted, dropping the man to the ground.
The first man fired non-stop at the almost invisible figure until he ran out of bullets. All his bullets bounced off the shiny transparent coating of the mysterious figure.
As he reloaded, he noticed a shadow on the floor. Looking up, he saw nothing but a transparent blade coming straight towards him. It stabbed him right between the eyes.
“Sir,” the driver of the second car stepped out. “Let’s go.”
Jon froze as the transparent figure stabbed the driver in the chest. Jon gulped as the mysterious figure crept towards him while morphing into a bluish metallic silhouette.
Jon went for his gun, but the blue figure grabbed it away, crushing it.
“ARGH!” Jon yelled, holding his injured right hand. “What the hell are you?”
The figure raised its right index finger as a red beam scanned the surrounding. Its helmet opened, revealing a pretty girl with short red hair and Eurasian eyes.
“Who?” Jon shook his head in disbelief. “What do you want?”
“I need your data,” she said while placing her left index finger on Jon’s forehead for five seconds. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Jon Gunn.”