 
                           --===PALADIN===--
 
Paladin
 
Episode 2: Wedding Gift
 
 
 
    "Goddammit," Aaron swore under his breath.  He needed to
get this report finished by the end of the week.  His neighbor had been
quiet since she'd moved in, but all of a sudden, she seemed to feel the
need to blare heavy metal at him.  He got up and poured himself a
drink, hoping that perhaps it was just for the one song.
 
    After five minutes of continual racket, Aaron gave up. 
"Shit.  I don't need this crap."  He didn't want to seem like the
cranky old guy, especially since he was only twenty-eight, but he had
work to do.
 
    Aaron walked out the door, and down to his neighbor's
door.  The racket was even louder out here.  There was one other person
standing in the hallway, but when they saw that Aaron was going to deal
with things, they just nodded and went back into their apartment.
 
    *Thanks a lot.  Two people complaining at once would have
looked better.*
 
    Aaron sighed, and knocked on the door.  That achieved very
little, so he next pounded on the door.  After a few more seconds, the
door opened.  Aaron was assaulted by a wave of noise crashing over him.
 
    "Yeah, what?" the guy in front of him snarled.  He was
fairly tall, much larger than Aaron's mere 5' 8" height.  He assumed
this was his neighbor's boyfriend.
 
    "Look," Aaron said loudly, trying to be heard over the
music, "I don't want to be a pain, but could you and Tricia keep it
down?  I've got work to do, and..."
 
    "Why don't you come in and turn it down yourself?" the man
challenged.
 
    "Look, I don't want a fight, I just-"
 
    Aaron's words were caught in his throat when he suddenly
realized he was staring down the barrel of a gun.
 
    "Step inside.  *Now*."  The man motioned fractionally with
the gun, and Aaron knew what disobedience would mean.
 
    Stepping inside, Aaron was very frightened.  The door
closing behind him sounded almost like a jail cell locking to him. 
What had he just gotten himself into?
 
    "Now, turn down the fucking radio," the man said, motioning
to it with the gun.  Aaron found this very odd, but he did as
requested, turning it all the way off.  He turned back to the man, only
to be forcibly spun around to face the other way.
 
    "Walk," the man said, pushing him forward.  Aaron didn't
know where this was going until he was shoved into the bedroom.
 
    There, lying on the bed, her clothes in tatters, was Tricia
Johansen, his neighbor.  Though he chastised himself for it even as he
did it, he allowed his eyes to roam her body.  She had a nice pair of
breasts and long legs, and a very nice ass.  Her long blonde hair was
tangled around her face, and her blue eyes were wide with fear.  She
was already shivering, and seeing Aaron didn't help things any.
 
    "Please..." she squeaked, but she seemed to be able to tell
that Aaron had no ability to help her, either.
 
    "All right, asshole," the second guy in the room said. 
"Strip."
 
    "What?" Aaron said, only to get a gun across the cheek for
his trouble.  He staggered backward, but managed to barely keep his
balance.
 
    "Off with the goddamned clothes.  *Now.*"
 
    Aaron looked over at Tricia for just a moment, and then
back to the men.  Reluctantly, he pulled off his polo shirt, and then
unfastened his belt.  He kicked off his shoes as he undid his slacks,
which then fell to the ground.  He thought to stop there, but a
movement of the gun in the first man's hand made it clear that would be
a bad move.  Aaron pulled down his briefs and stepped out of them,
automatically covering himself with his hands.
 
    "Now," the first gunman said, leaning back against the wall
with his arms crossed.  "You are going to fuck her."
 
    Tricia gasped, and Aaron gulped.  "You can't be serious,"
he said.
 
    "This bitch is either going to have a face full of your
cum, or a face full of her own blood.  Your choice, slick.  Now get to
it!"
 
    The other man said nothing, but he pointed the gun directly
at Tricia's face, causing her to scream.  Aaron raised his hands in
supplication.  "Okay, okay!"
 
    Turning to Tricia, he sat down on the bed and took one of
her hands.  "I'm sorry."  He reached out and caressed her cheek, and he
could feel her shivering.
 
    "This ain't a goddamned date!" the second man screamed. 
"Get it inside her now, or I'll shove something else in there!"  A
metallic sound of the gun indicated what he meant, and Tricia paled
even further at that thought.
 
    "If you want me to fuck her," Aaron said, cringing at his
own words, "I've got to be erect to do it.  That's just a bit difficult
with two guys pointing guns at me, all right?"
 
    "Fine, asshole.  You need to be hard?  Suck him off,
bitch.  You get him nice and hard so he can fuck you good."
 
    Aaron felt sick to his stomach, and Tricia was shaking like
a leaf.  Aaron knew they'd used up all of the leeway they had.
 
    "You'd better do it," he said to her softly.  "Before they
get really mad."
 
    Tricia nodded jerkily.  Aaron slid himself more onto the
bed, and Tricia moved very hesitantly until she was looking down at his
flaccid cock.  She jerked when she felt him touch her side, but only
because she was so scared.  She looked up at him.
 
    "I'm sorry," he whispered to her.  Her eyes conveyed her
understanding, and then she turned back to the task at hand.  She
didn't mind giving blowjobs, but doing it at the point of a gun...
 
    Tricia took Aaron's cock in her hand, and leaned down to
run her tongue over it.  She spent a lot of time kissing and licking
the head of his dick.  After a little bit, she took him into her mouth
and began to suck on him.  Despite the situation, he was growing hard,
and his expanding cock filled her mouth.  She felt Aaron shiver, but
she didn't know what had caused it.  She tried to focus her entire
attention on what she was doing.
 
    After only a minute or so, Aaron was fully erect.  Tricia
would have been just as happy to suck him off and hope that it would be
enough for these disgusting men, but she wasn't given the chance.
 
    "All right, Ace.  She's got you hard.  Now fuck her.  And
remember, you cover her face in cum, or I'll cover it in blood.  Get to
work!"
 
    Tricia pulled her mouth off of Aaron's dick, and she sat
up.  He gently pulled her to him, and then pushed her down onto the
bed.  He looked into her eyes as he positioned his cock at her hole. 
Leaning down, he kissed her on the cheek, and he whispered, "I'm
sorry," just as he penetrated her.
 
    Tricia wasn't very wet, and Aaron's first penetration was
very uncomfortable.  He went slowly, however, risking the wrath of the
gunmen.  He caressed the swell of her breast and he continued to kiss
her, moving his mouth up to her earlobe and sucking gently on it.  His
fingers soon found her nipple, and he began to roll it between his
thumb and forefinger.
 
    Aaron's actions were arousing Tricia, despite their
situation, and she felt herself becoming wet for him.  He moved more
easily within her, and so he increased the pace.  She didn't know how
long they'd taken, nor how patient these bastards would be.  She was
being raped by an unwilling partner, and her only consolation was that
he didn't want to hurt her.
 
    Aaron slid in and out of Tricia's pussy, moving faster and
faster.  He wanted to get this over with, wanted to get the gunmen out
of here so that they could call the police and get Tricia some help. 
He looked into her eyes as he fucked her, trying to tell her without
words how bad he felt about being forced to do this to her.  Their eyes
remained locked throughout the act.
 
    Aaron felt his balls tighten, and he knew he was close. 
Tricia could feel it, too.
 
    "I have to," he said, and she just closed her eyes and
nodded.
 
    "Do it," she replied.
 
    Aaron pulled out, and moved up her body.  He took his dick
in hand and began to jack off over her.  It took only a few seconds
before the first spurt of cum left his cock and landed in her hair. 
The next ones hit her in the forehead and on the nose, finally tapering
off to cover her cheek liberally in his cum.
 
    Aaron sat back on the bed, his cock already fully wilted,
as he looked at the men with guns.
 
    "Is that enough for you, you bastards?"
 
    "Yes, quite," the first man said.  "Have a nice day," he
said, the snide tone in his voice obvious.  The two men left the room,
and Aaron heard the front door shut soon after that.
 
    Aaron almost didn't have the courage to look at Tricia.  He
could tell she was crying.  He got up off the bed and went into the
bathroom to get a washcloth.  He wet it with warm water, and stepped
back out to the bedroom.  Sitting down beside her, he began to wash her
face very gently, doing his best to get that mess off it and not get it
in her eyes, nose, or mouth.  Once finished, he got up and put the
washcloth in the bathroom sink.
 
    By the time he returned, Tricia had curled up into a ball. 
She was sobbing quietly, and his heart was torn to see her that way. 
Without even thinking to put on any clothes, he went to her side, and
sat with her.  He hesitated to touch her, but he couldn't just sit
there.  He gently put his hand on her side, rubbing softly just to let
her know he was there.
 
    "I'm so sorry, Tricia," he said, over and over again.  He
didn't know what else to say.  He eventually just sat with her, rubbing
her side and her arm, and thinking how horrible this had to be for
her.  It was embarrassing for him, yes, but she...
 
    Tricia suddenly turned over, and looked up at him.  He saw
the pain in her eyes.  He swallowed hard, and realized she probably
didn't want him around just then.
 
    "I should go," he said, starting to get up.  Tricia seized
his wrist in a grip he didn't think he could break.
 
    "Don't," she said softly.  He sat back down, and she sat
up, then she crawled into his lap, straddling him, and put her head on
his shoulder.  She wrapped her arms around him, and cried some more.
 
    Aaron wrapped his arms around her, feeling a little
confused, but wanting to help her however he could.  He didn't know
what would have happened if he hadn't come to her door, but he did know
that anytime she saw him, she'd remember this night.
 
    After a little while, Tricia stopped crying, and leaned
back, looking at Aaron.  "Please don't leave me," she said, her voice
still tearful.  "I don't want to be alone.  Please."
 
    Aaron hugged her more tightly, out of sheer instinct. 
"Okay, I'll stay."
 
    Tricia moved slightly in Aaron's lap.  He didn't know
exactly what she was doing, but he felt a significant stab of fear; if
she kept doing what she was doing, he couldn't avoid getting an
erection.
 
    Tricia continued to move, and Aaron's fears were realized. 
His dick betrayed him, and stood up, pressing into Tricia's abdomen. 
Aaron blushed, and began to apologize.
 
    "I'm sorry, I... it's just, you move that way and..." 
Tricia put a finger to his lips.
 
    "I don't want to remember you like that.  You were nice
enough to me... but I want to remember something good from tonight. 
Make love to me.  Please."
 
    In response, Aaron leaned back, pulling her with him until
they were both lying on the bed.  His hands slipped down to caress her
ass, gently kneading her cheeks.  His mouth found hers, and soon their
tongues were dancing together, slipping from one mouth to the other. 
Tricia reached down and gently took hold of Aaron's cock.  She pointed
it at her opening, but waited for him to make the final move.
 
    Gingerly, Aaron pressed himself upward, feeling his dick
slip inside of Tricia's now very wet cunt.  He knew she had to be a
little sore from earlier, and he didn't want to hurt her any more than
he'd already been forced to, so he moved slowly.  It took him long
moments, as they continued to kiss, before he'd buried himself inside
her.
 
    Moving his hands up to the middle of her back, Aaron held
Tricia tightly to himself, and then rolled over, his prick still buried
fully inside her.  He broke their kiss to look down at her, worried
that this particular position might not be the best idea.  She looked
up at him and smiled very softly, waiting for him to begin.
 
    Aaron leaned down and began to suck on one of her nipples. 
His hand toyed gently with the other one, eliciting a moan from
Tricia.  As he continued to suck on her tit, he began to move within
her, using small, slow strokes.
 
    Tricia moaned at the feel of him inside her, and what he
was doing to her breast.  She couldn't live her life remembering how
they had first had sex; she needed something to override that memory. 
She had hoped, given his caring for her earlier, that he would be able
to provide it.  She was glad, now, that she'd taken the chance.
 
    Aaron released her nipple as he began to take longer
strokes inside her.  He moved his mouth up to hers, and they were soon
kissing again.  He supported himself on his elbows, and embraced her
with his arms, pulling her against him as he continued to stroke into
her, moving just a little faster now, taking his time, wanting to make
her feel good.
 
    Tricia rolled her hips, moving in synch with Aaron's
motions.  She could feel her own heat rising, her body responding to
the wonderful way he was treating her.  She felt her nipples rub
against the light hair on his chest, and it was adding to her
excitement.  Her pussy began to ripple along his cock, trying to urge
him toward climax.  She could feel her own coming, and she wanted him
to come with her.
 
    Aaron felt tingles throughout his body from her pussy's
motions on his cock, and he began to stroke into her faster, pushing
them both toward their peaks.  In only a few more moments, they soared
beyond those peaks into bliss, as they cried out their passion
together, their bodies rocking together as his cum shot into her, and
her pussy milked him for every drop of it.
 
    When he finally began to come down, Aaron looked down at
the beautiful woman beneath him.  He didn't want to let her go, didn't
want this to be over.  What had started out as a horrible experience
had turned into something... else.  She opened her eyes then, and she
smiled at him.  She reached up and kissed him softly.  He returned it,
not pressing for more, but giving as much love as he could.
 
    After several minutes, he rolled to the side.  She didn't
let go of him, however, so she went with him, and her arms remained
wrapped around his neck.
 
    "Thank you," she said softly.
 
    "It was the least I could do, after..."
 
    "You didn't do that to me.  You were just their... their
tool.  You didn't have any more choice than I did."
 
    "No... but I won't say that I hadn't thought about you
before.  I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you out, but now..."
 
    "I'd like to go out with you," she said.  "But first I want
to shower with you.  I think we both could use one, and I still don't
want to be alone."
 
    "Okay," he said, bowing to her wishes, wondering how he'd
managed to get a relationship out of this.
 
    Tricia got up and looked down at him.  She was surprised
that he was interested in her; she was only twenty-three, and a mere
secretary, though she was paid pretty well.  She thanked Fate that, if
what had happened had to happen, at least it had been someone kind, who
she could easily forgive for it.  She took his hand as he got up, and
then led him into the bathroom.
 
    Their shower alternated between cleaning off and getting
dirty again, and by the time they stepped out, they were both
exhausted.  Falling into Tricia's bed, they fell asleep in each other's
arms.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
Eight Months Later
 
 
 
    "Bobby.  Thanks for coming."  Mr. Sadler shook his hand
warmly.  "And you are..."
 
    "This is my good friend, Mel Langdon," Bobby said.  "Mel,
this is Jake Sadler.  I did a favor for Mr. Sadler about a month ago." 
The favor in question got Mr. Sadler out of a rather tight spot, and
had opened some doors for Bobby to the world of high-society Broadmoor.
 
    "Nice to meet you, Mr. Sadler."
 
    "I hope there's not another problem with Bradentech..."
Bobby said.  The Bradentech Corporation had attempted a hostile
takeover of Sadler Industries, using underhanded and unethical, but
just barely legal, techniques.  Curtis had heard about the problem by
overhearing some Bradentech employees talking over lunch one day.
 
    "No, but there is a bit of a problem.  One of my rising
stars, Aaron Douglas.  He and his fiancee have a problem... I'd rather
they tell you about it, rather than me butting any further into their
business."
 
    "Okay.  You threw an office party just so I could meet
him?"  Bobby motioned vaguely to the noise outside the office they were
talking in at the moment.  He had to give the impression that he
couldn't see, and in fact was wearing his "stealth" visor at the
moment.  Mel had created a second visor that functioned exactly like
the first, but looked more like a pair of sunglasses, to better fool
the public into thinking he was completely blind.  Bobby wasn't sure
how much 'disguise' this would be, but hoped it would be enough.  Mel
continued to hold his arm, helping to keep up the illusion of his
blindness - as if she needed a reason.
 
    "No, no.  We just got a big contract, and we're
celebrating.  I just thought now would be a good time for you to meet
them inconspicuously."
 
    Bobby nodded, and said, "Okay, well, let's go meet them,
then."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Aaron!  I want you to meet a friend of mine.  This is
Bobby Curtis.  And the young lady is..." here, the man faltered.  "Oh,
dear, I'm afraid I've..."
 
    Bobby saved the executive from embarrassment.  "Mel.  Nice
to meet you, Mr..."  Bobby feigned ignorance of his name only to give
the first impression that this meeting wasn't staged, which he knew
would set the man on edge.
 
    "Douglas.  Aaron Douglas.  But you can call me Aaron."
 
    Curtis shook his hand.  "Bobby."  Mel also shook the man's
hand.  Just then, they were joined by a lovely young lady.
 
    "This is my fiancee, Tricia Johansen.  Trish, this is Bobby
Curtis and Mel..."
 
    "Langdon," Mel said with a smile rolling her eyes at
Bobby.  "Nice to meet you."  She noticed that Bobby had gone quiet all
of a sudden.
 
    For his part, Bobby was noting the strange aura around
Trish.  "Are you all right?" he asked her.  Though it was hard for
people to judge his exact expression with his visor on, his tone of
voice indicated he was actually concerned.  Even without Mr. Sadler's
preparatory comments, he could see that something was badly disturbing
the young woman.
 
    Trish looked as if she'd been slapped.  "Hmm?  Yes, I'm...
I'm fine.  It was just a report on the news that has me..."
 
    "What was it, Honey?" Aaron asked.
 
    "A woman was raped in our building."
 
    "Not another one..."  Trish nodded, and Bobby could tell
there was more meaning to this than just the atrocity of a woman being
assaulted.  He stepped back just slightly, and took hold of Mel's arm.
 
    "Can you get her away from him for a little while?  He is
more likely to speak to me without her present, and I'm not going to
get anything from her."  He could tell that by her aura, and the set of
her jaw.
 
    Mel nodded at him, and then she turned to Trish.  "So, you
work here?"  She gestured at the large, spacious office area they were
standing in.
 
    Trish nodded.  "Yes.  I got a job here to be closer to
Aaron."
 
    "That's sweet.  Could you show me around?  I've never
worked in a building this fancy."
 
    Trish looked at Aaron, and Aaron looked at Bobby, then at
Mr. Sadler, who nodded ever so slightly.  It was clear what was going
on, at least to Aaron.  "Go on, Hon.  I'll be fine."  Trish kissed him
on the cheek, and then turned to lead Mel away.
 
    "Aaron," Mr. Sadler said, his voice low, "I haven't told
him anything, but I think you might want to relate your problem to Mr.
Curtis here.  He has..."
 
    Bobby picked up quickly before Mr. Sadler said something
inappropriate.  "I have the connections and know-how to solve most
problems.  Your fiancee is very troubled about something, and I don't
think just the mention of another woman's rape would account for it."
 
    Aaron looked at him sideways.  "How do you know what she's
feeling?"
 
    Bobby paused for a long moment.  "Let's just say I can
tell, and leave it at that, all right?  Being blind does not
necessarily mean you're completely lost."
 
    Aaron paled for a moment.  "I hadn't realized that you were
blind."
 
    "I hide it well.  You're avoiding the issue."
 
    Aaron looked to Mr. Sadler.  

    "I trust him.  Besides, you know what the *police* have
been able to accomplish..." Jake said in disgust at their
ineffectiveness.
 
    "What makes you think he can do something the police can't?"
 
    "Let's just say I have firsthand experience with his
talents.  I'll leave you two alone to talk."
 
    As Jake walked away, Bobby settled against a desk, and
tried not to stare at Aaron, since most people found the impenetrable
black of his visor to be disconcerting.
 
    After a deep breath and a long pause, Aaron related the
story to Bobby, leaving out only the explicit details.  Bobby nodded
calmly through Aaron's story, but he kept having to relax his fist as
it clenched at his side while his other hand held a drink he'd all but
forgotten about.
 
    "You think that the same men who assaulted you both are
responsible for tonight's attack?" Bobby asked once Aaron had finished
telling his tale.
 
    "There have been a dozen cases similar to ours reported,
according to the police.  Who knows how many don't get reported. 
Tricia was just lucky, if you want to call it that, that I came when I
did... I mean, who knows what they'd have done if no one had shown up,
or if it had been some asshole who would have gotten off on it... 
Then, when she asked me to stay after, and we became much closer... 
Truth is, I feel torn.  I owe those guys for getting us together, but I
also owe them for what they made her do.  What bothers me is, with them
still on the loose, Trish has never felt like the matter was closed
between us."
 
    Bobby nodded at the man.  He could see Mel and Tricia from
across the room, talking quietly.  He could see the aura of discontent
around her.  Over the last couple weeks, he'd learned how to read auras
of different emotions; the electrical field around people changed more
than most would have thought.  Returning his attention to Aaron, he
came to a decision.
 
    "I can make no promises whatsoever, but I have some friends
in the right places.  I will see if something can't be done to... make
this issue go away."
 
    Aaron looked at him, his face a mix of hope and distrust. 
"Why are you doing this?"
 
    "I was once a cop," Bobby said, "and I don't like people
walking away from their crimes unpunished."  Bobby walked away from the
man, reminding himself that he had to look at least vaguely
disoriented, because he was supposed to be blind and in a strange
place.  When Mel saw him leaving the conversation, she made a beeline
for him, and took his arm.
 
    "Is everything all right?" she asked softly.
 
    "I think we have a new case," he said in reply, and slipped
his arm from her grasp and around her waist.  "Let's get out of here
and back to your place."
 
    She blushed crimson and smiled.  She led him out of the
room, and they made their way to somewhere more private.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Hey, Alice," Bobby said quietly.  The young police officer
looked up, and smiled.  He leaned against the wall of her cubicle, down
in the basement of the police headquarters building.  He had come at a
time when he knew she would be alone.
 
    "Well, if it isn't the mysterious Mr. Curtis.  You promised
to take me to dinner."  Her smile, which she thought he couldn't see,
showed eager anticipation.  Alice Malloy was in her mid-twenties, and
still single.  Bobby knew all this because he'd met her at the local
cop bar a few weeks ago, and had met her for drinks after work several
times since.
 
    "Soon, I promise," he said with a warm smile.  "It is often
hard to synchronize our schedules."  He felt a little guilty saying
that; the truth was he just wasn't yet ready to deal with her interest
in him, which was more than obvious.
 
    "I assume you're not here for a social call," she said. 
She was used to seeing him in the bar, but to see him here threw her
just a little.  Still, she was happy to have his attention, for
whatever reason.
 
    He shook his head.  "I need a little information."
 
    "About?" she asked warily.
 
    "A string of sexual assaults.  Up on the north side."
 
    "Oh, those two," she said, her distaste clear.  "What do
you want to know about them for?"
 
    "I have my reasons," he said mysteriously.
 
    "You know, my lieutenant would have a hissy fit if he found
out I let you see that kind of stuff.  I've only been on the force for
six months; they could fire me.  Some of what's in the files hasn't
been in the papers.  If it gets there..."
 
    "I'm not going to take it to the press.  I have... personal
reasons for wanting to see the information.  You have my word, it goes
no further than my desk."
 
    "Who will you get to read it to you?"  She, also, believed
him to be blind, and he cultivated that belief.
 
    "I have a person who helps me with such things."
 
    "Probably a woman," Alice said, her voice showing jealousy.
 
    Bobby arched an eyebrow.  "As a matter of fact, yes.  She's
very good at helping with research."
 
    "I bet," Alice said, and turned to her computer.  Bobby
chuckled very quietly to himself.  He could see the electrical energy
around Alice, and it was clear she was irritated by the thought of him
having a "girl."  He knew he should probably take Alice out soon, but
he didn't know whether to cross that line with her or not.  After only
a few seconds of typing, the printer in the corner started spitting out
pages.  

    "You promise... no one but that *woman* sees these?  Can
you trust *her*?"
 
    "With my life.  And with your information.  Don't worry,
Alice, this will not make it into the papers.  She values her job far
too much to betray me like that."  In reminding Alice that the woman in
question - who didn't really exist - was a paid hireling, it took some
of the sting out of her presence.  Alice smiled as she took the pages
off the printer, put them in a folder, and carefully handed it to Bobby.
 
    "Good.  So, when are you going to ask me out?"
 
    "Soon."  He leaned over and, placing his hand haphazardly
on her shoulder, he kissed her softly on the cheek.  He made the move
look like he had to 'judge' her position by sound, and was afraid she'd
moved.  It wouldn't have fooled a blind person, but he knew the public
was far less knowledgeable.  As he leaned back, he could easily see her
blush.
 
    "Get out of here, you scoundrel," she said with a laugh. 
Bobby turned and raised his hand to his visor, then walked slowly out
of the room.  The cover story for why he did not use a cane was simply
that the 'glasses' he was wearing contained a special device that
provided auditory feedback to help him navigate.  It was plausible
enough that no one questioned it.
 
    With the rather large file in hand, he stepped out of the
police station, and caught a cab for the office.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    Paladin was walking along a dark street, keeping himself
close to the buildings.  The street wasn't dark for him, of course,
since his visor amplified ambient light when necessary, and there was
plenty of ambient light around here.
 
    He had walked the perimeter of the area the attackers
seemed to be working.  Their hunting territory seemed to be limited to
a half-dozen upscale apartment complexes in the northern part of the
city.  All of these buildings were within a few blocks of each other. 
He knew that this meant they were comfortable here, and that they
probably would notice any overt police presence immediately.
 
    Paladin wasn't a police presence, though.  He was nothing
more than a guy walking along the street.  He tried to keep himself
inconspicuous, but that wasn't easy, given his size and the fact that
he had a silver device - his 'normal' visor - on his head that looked
like it belonged in Star Trek or X-Men.  The nice thing about his size,
however, was that the gang kids tended to leave him alone.
 
    Turning a corner, he saw two men getting into a car.  They
drove off in something of a hurry, and he wasn't able to get a license
plate number.  He looked around, noting which building this was. 
Coincidentally, it turned out to be the same building that Aaron and
Tricia lived in.
 
    *I wonder if that was them.*  He spotted a group of gang
kids standing on the corner, and he headed in their direction.  The
leader of the group saw him coming, and the gang reoriented itself to
present a united front against him.
 
    "Whatchu want, man?" the leader asked.
 
    "That car that left just now.  Any of you happen to see its
license plate?"
 
    The leader sneered.  "What we look like, some kind of
undercover operation?  Get real, man."
 
    Paladin reached into his coat, noting lots of people
suddenly wary.  He pulled out his wallet, and held up a $100 bill. 
"I've got one of these for every correct position on that license plate
number.  You saw the car.  It had two guys in it.  If you see it again,
make note of the license.  If you get me a description of the two men,
there's an extra grand in it for whoever gives me the information."
 
    "Man, what's it to you?" the leader asked.
 
    Paladin drew a little closer, to more easily look down at
the teen, who couldn't be more than 5' 5" tall.  "That's none of your
fucking business.  You get me the information, I get you the money. 
Otherwise, we have no business."  Paladin handed him a business card:
 
 
 
_Paladin_
 
_555-7337_
 
 
 
    The leader looked at the card, then handed it to a
subordinate.  "What're you, some kinda superhero?"
 
    Paladin stepped very close to the boy.  "I am a protector
of people.  I'm not here to hassle you unless you piss me off.  You
don't want me to bring down on your head the resources I have at my
fingertips.  Put the word out; I want that car, and I want it *soon*." 
Paladin turned and walked away, giving every indication of being
totally unconcerned with their presence.
 
    Paladin continued to walk the area; after all, he could not
be sure if what he'd seen was in fact the escape of two criminals. 
He'd noted the time, however, so that the police record could verify or
dispute his notion.  Nothing else turned up that night, but he hadn't
expected to make progress quickly.  He returned to his own apartment,
and settled back with a soda to watch the news, and wait.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Central records..."
 
    "Hello, Alice."
 
    "Well, Mr. Curtis.  Why am I not surprised to be hearing
from you?"
 
    "Because you're the suspicious type, Alice.  I need to know
something about last night's attack."
 
    "Mr. Curtis..."
 
    "Call me Bobby," he said, trying to win her over.
 
    "Bobby, I could get fired..."
 
    "All I need is a time, Alice.  What time did the two men
leave?"
 
    He heard her sigh, and then some clicking which he assumed
was her typing.  After a few more seconds of pause, she said, "The
assault started around eight o'clock, and they left about forty-five
minutes later."
 
    *That's about the time I saw that car.*  "Thank you,
Alice.  How would you like to go to dinner next Saturday?"
 
    He could nearly hear her surprise over the phone.  When she
spoke, she said, "I'd love to.  What time?"
 
    "Seven o'clock.  Have you ever been to Farragut's?"
 
    "Are you kidding?  That's the most expensive restaurant in
town.  You can't afford that on a cop's salary."
 
    "Would you like to go there?"
 
    "Yes."
 
    "Then I will take you.  See you next Saturday."
 
    They said their good-byes and hung up.  Bobby sat back in
his chair, smiling.  When Mel walked in, she noticed his grin. 
"Something up?"
 
    He looked over at her and nodded.  "Maybe.  Turns out that
car I spotted last night probably is the one we're looking for.  Now if
I can just get a lead on the perps..."
 
    "You think they're dumb enough to use their own car?" she
asked, uncertain.
 
    Bobby shrugged.  "You play for breaks.  Really smart crooks
never get caught by the police.  However, I have an advantage the
police don't.  I don't have to follow all the rules."
 
    "And which rule are we breaking today?"
 
    "The one about fraternizing with your coworkers."
 
    "Alice?" Mel said with a smile.
 
    Bobby nodded.
 
    "I don't even want to know," she said.  Bobby stood up
then, and walked around the desk to take her in his arms.
 
    "I've been thinking about this for a while, Mel.  You
realize, don't you, that you and I can't be seen together too often. 
Paladin can't be seen to have a significant other, or her life could be
endangered.  Taking you to that function the other night was dangerous."
 
    She pushed herself more tightly against him.  "And if you
date other girls, you need to sleep with them.  I know.  I don't have
to like it."
 
    He leaned down and kissed her softly.  She kissed him back,
and stroked his cheek.  When they separated, she sighed.
 
    "Do me a favor?" she asked.  "No, do me *two* favors."
 
    "Name it."
 
    "I don't want the details of any of your little affairs,
first."
 
    "I hadn't planned on rubbing it in your face, Mel.  The
other?"
 
    "Next time you need to go to a function, since I can't go,
take Amber."
 
    Bobby arched an eyebrow at her in some surprise.
 
    "She's got a crush on you.  The least you can do is give
her what she wants."
 
    Bobby leaned down and kissed her again.  "Promise," he
said, clearly meaning it.  Then he headed out to go talk to people.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    Paladin was walking along another dark street when his cell
phone rang.  He had two lines on this phone, and this one warbled in a
way that told him that some information might be coming his way.
 
    "Paladin.  Speak."
 
    "Yo, man... you lookin' for two white dudes in a car,
right?"
 
    "That's right."
 
    "I just saw two white dudes get out of a Chevy, man.  They
looked around kinda suspicious, and then they head into a buildin'. 
Hey, they said you'd pay for this info, man."
 
    "Where are they?"  The voice on the phone gave him the
location.  "Stay there.  I will come to you."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Twenty minutes later, Paladin approached a nervous black
teen.  He was nervous because he was alone.  Paladin switched to
infrared, just to make sure no one was hiding in shadows, but the teen
really was alone.
 
    "Which car?" he said, without preamble.  The teen pointed
to a rusting brown Chevy sedan.  Paladin walked across the street and
took note of the license number.  He then crossed back over to the
teen, and said, "Now, we wait.  When they come out, you point them out
to me.  For this, I'll give you three grand."  Which was all the money
he had on him.
 
    "Fair 'nuff, man.  You don't want me to get close or
nothin', do ya, because there's no way..."
 
    "Just point them out to me.  I'm not a cop.  I just need a
starting place."
 
    The two stood in the shadows, in silence, for another half
hour.  When the door to the building opened and the two men stepped
out, the teen nudged Paladin.
 
    "That's them, that's them!"
 
    Paladin pulled out his wallet, and handed the money over to
the teen.  "Now get out of here."
 
    The teen was more than happy to leave, and Paladin studied
the two men as they walked quickly to their car and got in.  They
argued for a minute, it looked like, then the driver started up the
car, and took off.
 
    Paladin noted their appearance and the direction in which
they traveled.  As he walked back to the bus stop, he thought to
himself, *I wonder what that was about.*
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Nothing easy on the car," Amber said, walking into Bobby's
office.  He paid more attention to her now that Mel had cued him in. 
He did note that her looks lingered on him.  He took the file she was
offering, and motioned with his head for her to have a seat.  She
smiled and sat down, crossing her legs in such a way that her skirt
revealed an awful lot of leg.
 
    *Geez, I must have been blind.*  He snickered to himself
about his personal joke.
 
    "What's so funny?" Amber asked.
 
    Bobby shook his head.  "Nothing.  A lingering after-effect
of the comics page.  So, what've we got here?"
 
    "The car belongs to Deverell Industries.  It's a
medium-sized construction company on the east side.  It's a company
car, probably it's used by one of the employees.  No way to know who
without going to the company themselves."
 
    "Which I will soon do.  Thanks, Amber.  This is helpful."
 
    "Certainly," she said with a smile, and rose from her
chair.  He watched her backside as she walked out of the office, and
wondered how complicated this might get.  He let his eyes follow her
until she turned a corner, and then he finally moved them down to the
file on his desk.
 
    *So, let's see what this might turn up.*
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Can I help you, sir?" the young receptionist asked.
 
    "Yes, I need to speak with the office manager, or the
owner."
 
    "Mr. Deverell is out in the yard.  Would you like me to
page him?"
 
    "No, that's all right.  I'll find him.  Thank you very
much."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Are you Mr. Deverell?" Paladin asked.
 
    "Yeah.  Who're you?"
 
    "Paladin.  I have a question for you."
 
    "Look, I'm kind of busy here."
 
    "This will only take a moment.  Your company owns a dark
brown Chevy with the license XUA488?"
 
    "Uh... probably.  I'd have to look at my records to check
the license number.  We've only got two."
 
    "Do you know which of your employees drives that one?"
 
    "The brown one... Yeah, that would be Ricky.  Rick
Salvano.  Look, Mr. Paladin, what's this about?"
 
    "I just need to talk to him.  Is he here today?"
 
    "Nah, it's his day off.  You can get his address from
Carol.  You some kind of cop?"
 
    "Something like that.  Thank you for your assistance."
 
    "Hey, is he in some kind of trouble?  I don't need that
shit..."
 
    "I don't know."
 
    "Hmph.  Okay."
 
    "Thank you for your time, Mr. Deverell."
 
    "No problem."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Yeah, can I help you?" the man asked.
 
    "You are Richard Salvano?" Paladin asked.
 
    "Yeah.  Who're you?"
 
    "Where was your car last night?"
 
    "What business is that of yours?"
 
    Paladin pushed his way into the house, backing the smaller
man up easily.
 
    "Because I asked nicely.  The next time I ask, it won't be
nicely.  Where was your car last night?"
 
    "Hey, listen fucker, I don't have to talk to you."
 
    Paladin was growing weary of this, and so he decided to
scare the shit out of the man.  Using his telekinetic powers, he
reached out and took hold of the man's throat.  He began to squeeze
while he stared impassively at him.  Ricky's eyes grew as big as
saucers, and his hands went to his throat.  He couldn't even cough.  He
struggled in vain to try to breathe.
 
    "I told you if I had to ask again, it would not be
pleasant."  Ricky began to turn blue from lack of oxygen, his hand
scrabbling uselessly at his neck to remove a force he couldn't even
begin to find, let alone fight.  Paladin let him struggle for a moment,
and then eased off just a little.
 
    "Where was your car last night?" Paladin asked again, his
voice somewhat harsher now.
 
    "Look, I don't know, okay?" the man said plaintively,
gasping, his eyes still wide, and his legs shaking.  His voice was
quivering in fear.
 
    "You don't know where your own car was?" Paladin asked
derisively.
 
    "I loaned it to someone!" Ricky cried out, feeling the
squeeze beginning again.
 
    "Who?"
 
    "Look, man, if I tell you that-"
 
    "If you *don't* tell me, you will be in a lot more
trouble," Paladin said menacingly, and began to squeeze once more. 
Ricky began to choke, trying to gulp air into his lungs.  He raised his
hands in supplication, surrendering to this... whatever he was, because
he sure as hell wasn't human...
 
    "Steve Whitfield!"  Ricky gasped loudly as he was suddenly
able to breathe easily again.
 
    "And who is Steve Whitfield?"
 
    "My boss's brother-in-law.  I owe him money, he said this
would make us even.  What the fuck did he do in my car?" Ricky asked
pleadingly.
 
    "Nothing.  He merely used it as transportation.  Whether or
not he did anything illegal where he went is not your concern.  If you
tell anyone I was here, I will be back, and you will find it much
harder to breathe when I am done.  Do you understand?"
 
    Ricky nodded frantically, not wanting to even contemplate
another visit from this demon.  He wasn't going to go up against
someone who could hurt him without even moving.
 
    "Good.  I'd suggest you pick better loan sources.  Try a
bank next time.  Good day, Mr. Salvano."  Paladin left the man standing
at his front door, staring after him, until Paladin was halfway down
the walk, at which point Ricky collapsed in the doorway.  Paladin just
kept walking.
 
    *So, now I have a name.  Let's see what that generates.*
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Steven Bryce Whitfield," Mel said, thumping the file down
on the desk.  "Talk about going up against the best.  This guy is a
top-notch lawyer, has no record, and has a ninety-three percent win
rate."
 
    "Yeah, well, he's going to lose this one.  I should've
guessed a lawyer.  Only they could be this slimy."
 
    "You've got no proof."
 
    "I don't yet need proof.  I only need a reason to start
looking harder.  Any idea who his friend might be?"
 
    Mel shook her head.  "Nothing immediately obvious in the
file, no."
 
    Bobby looked back down at it.  "Okay, thanks.  It's a
start, anyway."
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Who the hell are you?" Bobby asked.  He was looking at a
young man, little more than a kid, leaning against Amber's desk trying
unsuccessfully to chat her up.  Bobby's demeanor was unfriendly at best.
 
    "Hey, Paladin!  Wow, what an honor to meet you, sir!"  The
young man held his hand out to shake, but Bobby just stared him down. 
This was a very disconcerting thing for the young man, since he
couldn't see Bobby's eyes.  The boy's enthusiasm wavered, and he put
his hand down.
 
    "Who...are...you?" Bobby said, slowly and distinctly, with
just a touch of malice in his voice.
 
    "He's your driver," someone said from behind him.  Bobby
turned around to see an agent from Project Guardian.  He recognized
him, but had not worked with him closely.
 
    "Who said I needed a driver?" Bobby asked.
 
    "We did.  This is Russell Stevens, codename Terrier." 
Bobby smirked; he was sure the kid didn't get the insult.  "He's part
of our latest recruitment process.  He'll work as your driver and
errand-runner as he learns how to do the job."
 
    "I didn't sign on as an instructor," Bobby objected.
 
    "And you won't need to instruct... just explain what you're
doing when he asks."
 
    "Hey, I won't get in your way, Mr. C, I'm just here to help
out."
 
    Bobby glared at the young man, but that in no way dampened
his enthusiasm.  Bobby turned back to the agent.  "If he dies, it isn't
my fault."
 
    "Agreed," the man said instantly.  "I'm sure you have work
to do, so I'll get out of your way.  Good luck, Mr. Stevens."
 
    "Just fucking great," Bobby mumbled to himself.  Looking up
to Amber, who gave him a supportive smile, he asked, "Where's Mel?"
 
    "In the lab, where else?" she said with a grin.  He smiled
and nodded at her, then walked out into the hallway for the lab,
leaving his 'driver' to continue attempting to flirt with Amber.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Hey, Bobby," Mel said when she heard the lab door open. 
She didn't turn around as he approached and wrapped his strong arms
around her.  She snuggled back against him and smiled.
 
    "You knew about the little twit?"
 
    "Not until he showed up about an hour ago.  He won't be so
bad."
 
    "I'm sure Amber would disagree with you by now."
 
    Mel laughed.  "Is he hitting on her already?"
 
    "Attempting to.  He's not doing a very good job."
 
    "You could always teach him how..."
 
    Bobby smirked, and intentionally changed the subject.  "I
need a tracking device."
 
    "What range?"
 
    "Well, I was going to say several miles, but with a
driver... No, you'd better make it as great a range as you can.  I
don't want that rookie blowing it with a bad tail."
 
    "Gotcha.  We've got one with a half-mile range... that's
about the best I can do in the city."
 
    "That should be plenty.  As long as we can stay out of
sight."
 
    "Okay."  She walked over and opened a cabinet, and took
down a somewhat bulky device, at least for what he'd been expecting. 
"I know, it's huge.  Most of that is battery power."  The device was a
good two inches square, and an inch thick.  It had a tail that would
hang below the bumper, which was where it was intended to be mounted.
 
    "I don't suppose you've got a bug I could use, too?"
 
    "To put where?"
 
    "It'd have to be on his person."
 
    Mel shook her head.  "Sorry, I don't have anything that
small yet.  I'm sure the military and the CIA do, but they're not
exactly sharing.  If you can wait a few weeks..."
 
    "We don't have a few weeks.  These guys are accelerating
their pattern.  It's the same old story with serial crimes... the rush
wears off faster the more you do it."
 
    Mel nodded.  "I'm afraid you'll have to settle for the good
old ears, then."
 
    "Yeah.  What about a parabolic mike?"
 
    "I can get you one of those quickly, but I don't have one
here."
 
    "Soon as you can.  I want to get on this guy's trail ASAP."
 
    "Okay."
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    Paladin slipped into the car, scaring the crap out of
Terrier.  "Which car?" he asked abruptly.
 
    Terrier tried to restart his heart before answering.  "The
black Lincoln.  He's got a driver."
 
    "Hmm.  That could be interesting.  Has he been seen to
drive anything himself?"
 
    "No, but I've only been following him for a day..."
 
    "Right.  Well, no point in worrying about it."  Paladin
opened the small case he was carrying, and pulled out the tracking
device.  He set the case on the seat between them, for it contained the
display.  Opening the car door slightly, he dropped the device. 
Terrier watched in amazement as the tracker slowed to a stop about six
inches off the ground, and then hovered there.  Paladin used his
telekinesis to maneuver the device out of the way, and closed the car
door again.
 
    "How do you..."
 
    "Shut up," Paladin said, under some strain to keep the
device under control.  He quickly maneuvered it across the parking
garage, until it sat on the ground just beneath the rear bumper of the
black Lincoln Continental.  He didn't want to attach it, in case it
turned out not to be the car that Mr. Whitfield was going to use.  Once
he had it in place, he sat back and closed his eyes for a second.
 
    When he was more relaxed, Paladin reached down and took a
soda from the small cooler at his feet.  He popped it open and took a
swig before he turned on the tracking display to check that the device
was actually working.
 
    "How do you do that?" Terrier asked again.
 
    "Very carefully.  Have you seen anyone who might be his
accomplice?"
 
    "Mr. C, he's been meeting with everybody and their brother
all day.  He's in and out of the office, probably five times today. 
Any one of them could have been his accomplice.  How am I supposed to
know?"
 
    *By using the rock on top of your neck for something other
than a hat rack,* Paladin wanted to say.  Instead he said, "On mission,
you will refer to me only as Paladin.  Is that understood?"
 
    Terrier nodded like a puppy.
 
    Paladin wanted to smack the kid, but sat back and waited,
instead.  If Whitfield was their guy, they'd know who his accomplice
was sooner or later, regardless of Terrier's incompetence.
 
    In Paladin's opinion, sooner was always better.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "That's him," Terrier said, a half-hour later.  Paladin
already knew that, but didn't bother to tell his 'associate.'  He
watched as the man headed - alone - to the Lincoln, and unlocked the
door.  By the time the man had finished climbing into the driver's
seat, Paladin had lifted the tracking device off the ground and affixed
it to the inside of the rear bumper.
 
    As the car pulled out, Terrier reached to turn the key in
the ignition.
 
    "You stay put," Paladin ordered.
 
    "But we'll lose him!"
 
    Paladin looked over at him with his best approximation of a
Darth Vader look.  Terrier withered before his gaze.  When the blip on
his screen indicated a quarter-mile of distance, Paladin said, "Now you
can go.  Head north."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    The tracking device worked flawlessly, and Terrier turned
the car off a block away from where the black Lincoln sat next to a red
Jaguar.  Terrier whistled softly.
 
    "Nice car."
 
    Paladin ignored the irrelevancy as he pulled a small pouch
out of his inner coat pocket.  He kept it in his hand, and then looked
at Terrier, who looked eager to be involved.
 
    "If you get out of this car for any reason, I will break
your knees."  Terrier bobbed his head eagerly, but the disappointment
was clear on his face.  Paladin sighed, and climbed out of the car,
shutting the door quietly behind himself.
 
    Paladin knew he had to move quickly, and he walked faster
than normal down the dark street.  Had anyone seen him, they might have
wondered what he was up to, but the street was deserted.  Paladin
figured this was why the two men were meeting here.
 
    The building the cars sat in front of was a warehouse.  The
office entrance was unlocked, which saved Paladin from having to pick
it open.  He slipped inside, and walked quietly, trying to find the two
men.  Finally, he heard voices coming from an office.  He could see an
open door and a light on, but he couldn't make out what was being
said.  He knew that approaching any closer would be a mistake.
 
    Paladin tested the knob on the door he was standing in
front of.  The doorknob turned easily and, thankfully, the door swung
open without a sound.  Slipping inside the room, Paladin loosened the
drawstring on the pouch he was carrying.
 
    The device inside the pouch was a small parabolic mike,
with a collapsible reflector dish.  He quickly unfolded it, and snugged
the earpiece into his ear.  He aimed it at the office door down the
hall, and also made sure to turn the recording device attached to the
mike on.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "That last one was close!  If that damn kid had gotten a
better look at us..."
 
    "Look, Tommy, you knew there were risks."
 
    "Yeah, but that was a *stupid* risk!  You *knew* there was
a kid there!"
 
    "Hey, we handled it, didn't we?  And did you see that bitch
squirming beneath that fat guy?  God, that was *fun*!"
 
    After a long pause, Tommy answered, "Yeah, it was."
 
    "So, anyway, I've lined up our next target."
 
    "Any surprises with *this* one?" Tommy asked acerbically.
 
    "If there are, they'll be a surprise to me, too.  No, this
bitch just needs to be taught a little lesson."
 
    "You think we can ever go to wearing masks?  That damn
makeup shit is itchy."
 
    "That damn makeup shit is the only thing keeping us from
being identified.  Some of these women *know* us.  The makeup and being
able to change our voice, even slightly, is the only thing protecting
us.  You *want* to spend a few years in prison?"
 
    "I guess you're right.  So who is it?"
 
    There was the rustle of a folder, followed by, "Erica
Zimmer."
 
    Tommy whistled.  "Nice bod."
 
    "But what a bitch.  She's snubbed me one too many times at
the club."
 
    "When do we do her?"
 
    "Tomorrow night."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    At that, Paladin disconnected his earpiece and folded up
the mike.  He stuffed it quickly into the pouch, and made his way
silently out of the building, remembering to collect the tracking
device on his way.  He walked across the street and then turned back,
getting the license number off the Jaguar.  He had a lot to do in the
next twenty-four hours.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Thomas Cantrell, age forty-six.  One of the richest men in
Broadmoor."  Amber slid the file across Bobby's desk.  He looked up at
her, trying not to stare down her blouse which was, he figured,
precisely what she was trying to get him to do.
 
    "Known to associate with Whitfield?"
 
    "Oh, yes.  They are close.  They have backed each other up
on numerous business deals."
 
    "Is one likely to give up the other?"  He asked this
question of Amber because she was a psychologist.
 
    "Cantrell is weak.  He runs his business entirely by
consensus.  He's never taken a hard line with his board of directors. 
He's been successful mainly because the board knows what it's doing."
 
    "So, get to him, and the whole thing will crumble?"
 
    "Yes.  But getting to him will be hard.  At the first sign
of trouble, he'll run to Whitfield, who is a much tougher nut to crack."
 
    "Perhaps, but if I can nail them both at the same time, it
will be easier."
 
    Amber nodded.  "That's true.  *If* you can get to them."
 
    "You forget, I know who their next target is.  Any luck on
that name yet?"
 
    "Still working on it."
 
    "Quick as you can, please."
 
    Amber smiled sweetly, and headed back out, swinging her
hips as she went.
 
    *Geez, why don't you just rip off your blouse?*  He
chuckled at the thought, and then got back to his work.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "How am I supposed to learn how to do the job if I can't
watch you doing it?" Russell complained.
 
    "That is not my problem.  I'm not risking someone's neck on
an untrained rookie.  I don't know what the fuck they were thinking,
and I didn't approve them dumping you on me.  Until I think you're safe
to go out in the field, you'd damned well better be satisfied with
whatever I *do* let you do.  This isn't a game.  Someone's life is at
stake tonight."
 
    "Yeah, but-"
 
    "Don't start with me, Terrier."  Bobby used his codename as
a hidden insult.  As usual, Russell didn't get it.  He slumped into a
chair and pouted.
 
    "Will you need anything special tonight?"
 
    "Just a gun."
 
    Amber stiffened.  "You're not going to kill them, are you?"
 
    "Not if I don't have to.  But we know they're carrying.  I
need something bigger than what they're armed with.  I want them to
think not twice, but three times, before trying to shoot their way out."
 
    Amber nodded, and turned to unlock the secure gun cabinet. 
Bobby stepped up behind her, and rested his hand on her shoulder.  He
did this both because he knew that Amber would like it, and because he
knew Russell would not.  Amber shivered slightly at his touch, but kept
her voice even.
 
    "I'd recommend the Uzi.  It's small enough to hide, but not
too many people are going to challenge someone with a fully automatic
weapon."
 
    "Good idea," he said, giving her shoulder a little
squeeze.  "And the .45.  I'm not going anywhere without a backup weapon
tonight."
 
    "Makes good sense."  Lowering her voice, she asked, "What
*are* you going to do to them?"
 
    "Embarrass the shit out of them, at the very least.  Reveal
who they are to the media.  Give their victims an opportunity for
payback.  The police will never have enough information to nail these
bastards; I can't give them anything I learned, and I can't testify. 
That means we have to punish them ourselves."
 
    "Fair enough."  Bobby squeezed her shoulder one last time,
and then he reached for the Uzi submachine pistol.  He loaded it and
then hung it on a small loop inside his overcoat.  The .45 went through
similar treatment, but ended up in a holster at his hip.  Then he
turned back to Amber.
 
    "Am I forgetting anything?" he asked her.
 
    "Just a good-luck kiss," she said with a grin.  Bobby
weighed his response for about a second, then he leaned down and kissed
her gently on the lips.  Amber was shocked, but responded quickly,
moving her lips against his.  He broke the kiss before they could get
too passionate.
 
    "When Mel gets here, tell her I'll be on channel four."
 
    Amber nodded, still a little shaken.  "Good luck," she said
unnecessarily.
 
    Bobby smiled at her, and glared at Russell, then headed out
the door.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    "Can I help you?" the woman asked a little nervously. 
Paladin was a very big man, and with his eyes covered, he was
automatically intimidating.
 
    "Are you Erica Zimmer?" he asked quietly.  Looking at her,
he could see why Whitfield would want her.  She was about 5' 6" tall,
had long, dark brown hair, and a pretty, round face.  She was
well-built, and certainly worth chasing after.  That didn't excuse what
they were planning to do to her.
 
    "Yes... who are you?" she asked suspiciously.
 
    "My name is Paladin.  I'm here to warn you, and ask for
your help.  You're aware of the string of sexual assaults that have
been happening in this area?"
 
    Erica grew slightly pale, but she nodded.
 
    "I have information that you are their next target."
 
    "Who *are* you?" she said, her voice growing panicky.
 
    Paladin raised his hands in supplication.  "I'm just trying
to help.  What I would like to do is to borrow your apartment.  Is
there a friend or relative, a neighbor that you feel comfortable with?"
 
    Erica nodded.  "Joan and her husband, Dave, down the hall. 
But why..."
 
    "Ma'am, I'd like you to go spend the evening with your
friends, and let me use your apartment.  I expect the assailants to be
here in less than an hour.  I want to be waiting for them when they get
here."
 
    "Oh.  What are you going to do to them?"
 
    "I'm not a cop," Paladin said quietly and with meaning.
 
    "You're not going to kill them... here... are you?"
 
    He shook his head.  "I don't intend on killing them at all,
unless I have no other choice.  I do plan on teaching them a lesson."
 
    "But... you can't prove anything unless they're inside my
apartment.  Isn't that true?"
 
    Paladin shook his head.  "I don't have to prove anything,
ma'am.  As I said, I'm not a cop.  I'm not going to arrest them."
 
    "Still... I'd feel better if you weren't alone in my
apartment."
 
    "Then might I suggest that you ask your friends to come
here and visit?  I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me.  I'm
not here to cause you any trouble."
 
    Erica nodded.  "Let me call them.  Please come in."
 
    Paladin stepped inside, but left the door open.  He heard
Erica on the phone while he watched the hallway.  He heard, but did not
see, a door open as Erica hung up.  She went to the door, and smiled as
her friends arrived.  They both stopped a little short at seeing a very
large man in her apartment.
 
    Paladin smiled briefly at both of them.  "Folks, could you
step inside so we can close the door?  I'd like it to look as normal as
possible outside."
 
    "Who are you?" Dave asked.
 
    "Paladin," he said, and stuck out his hand.  Dave shook his
hand while eyeing him up.
 
    "That's not your real name, is it."  It was not a question.
 
    "It's the only one you're going to get," Paladin replied. 
Dave took that at face value.
 
    "And you're here to... what?"
 
    "Stop some very bad people from hurting your friend."
 
    "If you know who they are, why wait for them to come here?"
Joan asked.
 
    "I need them on turf they're not familiar with."
 
    "They've hurt a dozen women in this building.  I think
they're pretty fucking familiar with it," Dave said sourly.
 
    Paladin nodded.  "But not as familiar as they'd be with
their homes or offices."
 
    Dave nodded in understanding.  "So what do you want us to
do?"
 
    "Nothing.  Just sit and have a chat.  When there is a knock
at the door, I'll ask you to step into the bedroom.  Miss Zimmer, if
you feel up to it, I'd like you to answer the door.  If not, I will
answer it myself."
 
    Erica thought for a long moment, then said, "I'll do it."
 
    "Erica, are you sure?" Joan asked.
 
    "If these bastards were going to hurt me, the least I can
do is help hurt them."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Paladin looked at his watch and frowned.  It was already
quarter after eight, and no one had shown yet.  The civilians were
sitting and trying to keep up a conversation with what amounted to a
statue in the room.  Paladin said nothing after their initial
discussion, and he tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.
 
    Everyone was startled by a sharp knock at the door.  Dave
and Joan immediately rose to head for the bedroom.  Paladin motioned
Erica to himself, and spoke in a whisper.
 
    "Open the door.  If it's someone you know, find a way to
let me know that.  If it is them, let them in - I don't think you'll
have much of a choice - and as soon as you hear me speak, I want you to
drop to the floor.  Do you understand?"
 
    Erica nodded just as there was another knock.  She moved to
the door to answer it.  As soon as it was open, she was shoved backward
roughly, and tumbled to the floor without prompting.
 
    Paladin's hand had already been inside his overcoat when
Erica had opened the door.  As soon as he saw her falling, he pulled
the Uzi out and aimed it at the door.  Two men of the proper height and
build came in, and closed the door before they realized they weren't
alone.
 
    "Good evening, gentlemen.  Drop the guns, or I will be
forced to get violent.  Drop them *now*."
 
    Steven and Tommy looked at the man, who was larger than
them by far, and holding an Uzi, which had the two of them outgunned
all by itself.  They quickly shared a look back and forth and slowly
set their guns down on nearby objects.
 
    "Step backward, away from them.  Miss Zimmer, are you all
right?"
 
    Erica shakily got to her feet.  "Yeah, I think so."
 
    "Could you collect their weapons, please, and bring them
over here?"  Paladin moved to keep his line of fire clear as she
collected the two pistols and brought them to him.
 
    "Thank you.  Now, if you wouldn't mind, please go join your
friends in the bedroom."  As Erica turned to leave, Paladin focused on
the men in front of him.  "Now, gentlemen, I think it's time we had a
little fun."
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    When Erica came back into the living room, she gasped.  The
two gunmen were kneeling on her carpet, naked.  Their hands were bound
behind their backs, and their arms were bound at the elbows in what
looked like a very painful manner.
 
    Paladin saw Erica and smiled.  He reached into a pocket and
pulled out a list.  "Could you do me one more favor, Miss Zimmer?"
 
    "Sure," she said, more confident about his presence now.
 
    "Could you call the women on this list?  They all live in
your building.  Could you ask them to come down to the hallway?  I'd
like them to see their attackers for who they really are."
 
    Erica nodded, and sat down to start making phone calls.
 
    "Up, you two."
 
    "Why should I?" Steven snarled.
 
    "Because if you don't, I will force your friend here to
fuck you in the ass.  Believe me, I can make him."
 
    Steven struggled to his feet.  Tommy had already complied. 
Paladin walked to the door and opened it.  "Outside.  Now."  Paladin
had put away his Uzi, but the .45 seemed to materialize in his hand as
he spoke.  Both men gave it only a cursory glance before they
reluctantly followed instructions.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    One by one, the assaulted women came down the hallway. 
Paladin kind of wished that this had been Aaron and Tricia's building,
but it hadn't worked out that way.  He would have to inform them some
other way.
 
    Each woman stopped when she realized the men were naked. 
They looked wide-eyed at the tall man with the gun who was obviously
guarding them.  After the initial shock, however, they each would step
closer, and stare at the men.  A couple of them cried.  Several of the
men involved had also come down, and the looks on their face was far
more murderous.
 
    "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm assuming that each of you
recognizes this pair as the ones who attacked you?"  Paladin wanted to
make sure there were no copycats hanging around.  The group nodded in
unison.  "Miss Zimmer, could you get me a wet washcloth that you do
*not* need back?"
 
    As Erica went to do as Paladin asked, Paladin said to the
audience, "I think it is high time you know who your attackers really
are."
 
    "What do you mean?" one of the men asked.  Just then, Erica
returned with an old dish towel, soaked in warm water.  Paladin took it
and moved to Steven.
 
    "You touch me and I'll-" his protest ended when he felt a
cold metal object contacting his groin.
 
    "Even as small as you are, at this distance, I won't miss. 
Now shut your trap."  Steven closed his mouth as Paladin wiped the
makeup off his face.  Next, he pulled loose the latex masking - now
obvious - that was tightening his throat and thus altering his voice
slightly.  A latex nosepiece came off next, then some cheek
enhancements.  A few more wipes of the cloth, and it was easy to see
who he was.
 
    "Mr. Whitfield!" two of the girls gasped at once.  Erica
stepped up to him.
 
    "You son of a bitch."  She slapped him, hard.  The girls
all noticed that Paladin did not attempt to stop her.  Soon, a line had
formed, and Steven received a vicious slap from each of them.  When the
men started to form up, Paladin stepped in.
 
    "As nasty as it was for you, they were the ones who were
violated.  Let's see who contestant number two is, shall we?"
 
    "Mr. Cantrell!" a couple more girls shouted.  He received
similar treatment.
 
    "Ladies and gentlemen, you may try to call the police on
these two if you like.  Understand that I cannot testify in court, and
it may be sticky for you to explain exactly how you found out about
their identities.  You might find it more satisfying to destroy their
careers."
 
    Paladin turned to the two men.  "As for right now, walk!" 
Paladin marched the two men - still naked - down the fire stairs.  He
found, not surprisingly, that all of the men and women followed him.
 
    When they got outside, Paladin forced the two men to stand
between two light poles, set about fifteen feet apart.  He withdrew
some pre-fabricated bindings from behind his back, and handed them to a
couple of the men.
 
    "One loop on each hand, binding their hands together."  He
showed them exactly what he meant, loosing their current bindings,
forcing the men then to stand front-to-back, with Steven behind Tommy. 
The two men's hands were bound together at the wrist, and then another
rope was tied around their waists.  The two men were now in what
appeared to be a very lewd position.  After a few more instructions,
they were tied in such a way that Steven was hugging Tommy, and their
bodies were immobilized between the two light poles.
 
    Paladin stood back, and was satisfied that the scene looked
enough like they were fucking each other to be extremely embarrassing. 
He saw several snapshots taken, and knew that one of them would end up
in the public eye, if not in the paper, at least on the internet.  He
nodded to himself.
 
    "How can we thank you?" one lady asked Paladin.
 
    "I did this to clean up our city.  That doesn't require
thanks.  Try to get on with your lives."  Paladin turned and walked
away, knowing that a few more things needed doing.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Mr. Whitfield just got dropped by his law firm," Mel told
Bobby.
 
    "Gee, I guess sending them that tape sort of changed their
opinion of him."
 
    "So it would seem.  What's next?"
 
    "We'll just wait and see what happens.  Anything new on our
horizon?"
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    "Mr. Curtis!" Tricia said.  "How good to see you again."
 
    "I came by to wish you both the best of luck," he said,
shaking Aaron's hand and kissing Trish on the cheek.  That his news had
come on their wedding day was merely a special blessing.  "And to
perhaps close an ugly chapter in your lives."
 
    "What do you mean?" Tricia asked.
 
    Bobby handed over the daily paper.  "Have either of you
read the front page today?"
 
    Tricia looked down at it, and then up at Aaron, who looked
at the paper's headline:
 
 
 
Former CEO, suspected rapist, commits suicide
 
Thomas Cantrell, former CEO of Comstock Enterprises, Inc., was found
dead this morning, drowned in his hot tub.  The medical examiner's
preliminary report shows a high level of prescription sedatives in his
bloodstream, along with a massive quantity of alcohol.  Police are
classifying it as a suicide.  Cantrell was recently forced to step down
from his position at Comstock under allegations of serial sexual
assault on dozens of women in the Narville Heights area.  Cantrell's
accused associate, Steven Whitfield, was just yesterday voted out of
the law firm of Cutter, Davis & Whitfield.  It is reported that he has
left the state to avoid the scrutiny.  While no official charges have
been filed, several women have come forward to accuse the two men. 
Pictures of these two apparently having intercourse in public have also
circulated around the Internet and local electronic bulletin board
systems.  Two civil lawsuits have been filed against the two men, and
it is thought that perhaps a larger suit involving all of the women
involved may be filed.  Neither Whitfield, nor Cantrell's estate
replied to a request for comment, and none of the women wished to speak
publicly on the matter.  One woman did say, "I'm sorry for his wife,
but I'm glad the bastard is dead.  He got what he deserved."
 
Thomas Cantrell was 48.
 
 
 
    They looked at each other and grinned, then hugged
tightly.  When they separated, they turned to thank Bobby for his
help... only to find he had already left.
 
 
 
-----
 
 
 
    Bobby got in the car, and looked over at Russell.
 
    "Where to?" he asked.
 
    "My place," Bobby said.  "I have a date tonight."  Having
Mel's permission, he looked forward to getting to know Alice better.
 
 
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
...---=== http://netwolf.wolfpub.org ===---...
 
 
 
    

