Three Threats, Three Shields

He took a long sniff. He smiled at the smell that wafted up his nostrils. The mixture was exactly right for what he wanted to do. He poured the formula in a series of plastic containers in a rack he had constructed. The formula would eat at the plastic until it was exposed and ignited.

A perfect automatic timer.

One way to stop it would be to drop the container in fresh water. The water would prevent the mix from igniting when it released itself. Then it would dilute the chemicals into uselessness.

He made sure the containers were closed tightly. Then he carefully placed each one in its own spot in a carrying case he had altered. Quick snaps of the catches locked the lid on the precious cargo.

One bad move would be all it took to turn a few blocks of the city into a crater.

He took the case, and headed for the next step of his plan.

Walter Cates looked at his assembled men. He had gone over the plan until he was sure everyone was on the same page. They would have only one chance at this. One missed cue could bog a squad down long enough for the police, or worse Leaguer, to respond and capture them.

Photos taken with hidden cameras had let Cates show each man where they needed to be and what they needed to after they entered the target zone. Small mockups of each area had been practiced on until the men were tired of looking at the shells.

City maps with marked streets had been handed out to each of the designated drivers. Traffic had been examined for possible flow problems. Alternate routes had also been marked. Their vehicles were already fueled up and ready to take to the road.

A dealer had gotten Cates and his army enough weapons to wage war on the city, explosives, body armor, and head sets. A bullet in his forehead prevented any leaks from that end of things.

"Everyone ready?," Cates asked. Silence was the only response. "Let's suit up and do this."

The sun appeared, climbing to gaze down on Church Hill. It would begin to heat the streets, causing discomfort to pedestrians. That was later. In the early morning, things were still cool and slightly breezy.

That made the heat haze in the middle of Creighton Street impossible. The air began to whirl in a small dust devil that turned into a narrow tornado. The wind died down after a cloud of dust had been scattered up and down the street. The floating debris settled quietly without the influence of the disturbed air.

In the spot where the wind had danced, a fiery horse reared with a scream of fire. Its rider gripped its barrel sides with smoky legs. The horseman waved a wide bladed sword over his head as he laughed. Small flames danced where eyes should be in a helmet. He spurred his strange mount forward.

Marvin Kincaid was late again. He was supposed to be at his desk at seven sharp. Instead he had pushed the snooze button until he realized he was going to be late. He dressed on the way to his car, glancing in his brief case to make sure he had everything. He slid behind the wheel, putting the keys in the ignition.

A wave of cold washed over him as he turned the key. If he had more time, he would have wondered what was going on. He just jammed the stick into DRIVE and pulled out of his driveway.

Marvin turned to head into town. As he rolled to the stop sign at the end of his block, a fiery horse reared into view. The armored rider sliced through the roof of his car, shearing the window easily. The upholstery caught fire from the blade's aura.

"Grant me protection against my enemies," Kincaid said. "Grant me strength to pursue justice. It is time to battle for the right. So say I."

Kincaid's personality submerged behind the driving mask of Johnny Shield. The silent avenger materialized around the accountant as the blade drew back for a second swing. The flaming sword descended again. It bit into the empty seat as Johnny pushed out of the passenger side of the vehicle.

The dark rider pulled back on his reins, rearing his horse. The horse stamped down, carving the asphalt. The horseman kicked his mount to action, charging on the blue clad fighter.

Johnny Shield tensed his legs, hands at the ready. He waited. The horseman was almost on the silent hero, when a gloved hand pulled the car door open again. The metal slammed the horse in the thigh with the full weight of Johnny's body behind it. The rider held on dearly as the horse stumbled from the impact.

The nondescript man hauled each of his prepared cases to the points indicated on the blueprints he had taken from the hall of records. He carefully placed the contents of each box where the explosion he planned would rip a support out of place.

The next step on his agenda was to rig the doors under the guise of checking the locks. Small rods of his formula were glued to the metal frames of the door. He could weld the doors together but if someone became desperate enough, they could break the glass windows apart and escape.

That was why his next step was to lay a thin layer of thermite down in front of the doors disguised as welcome mats. A remote would allow him to detonate the mats and cremate anyone caught on them.

The expert double checked his preparations before he decided it was time to take up his position in the control center he rigged near the roof access. He still needed to check his booby traps for any daring roof assaults.

Since the Riflemen had been arrested, Walter Cates's Specialists were the biggest robbery experts in Church Hill. Meticulous planning allowed them to assault their target and escape before any interference arrived. Cates liked to wait until he was sure the Leaguer was out of town, and preferred to work in the day to avoid the Fear, the vigilante who had taken down the Riflemen.

The advance team left to take up position outside the target zones. They were snipers and observers. If the police arrived ahead of schedule, it would be up to the various squads on the advance team to arrange a distraction for them.

As soon as the advance team was in position, Cates ordered his four takedown teams to their SUVs. He got in the passenger side of the lead car. One by one, the jeeps rolled out on the street.

Shelly Kroger cursed under her breath as she gave the horn to a guy on his cell phone not watching what he was doing. He gave her the bird. She gave him two back with both hands off the wheel of her Metro.

She was late for work, and not in the mood for other people's crap.

Shelly pulled into the East Summit Mall's parking lot. She pulled into a space close to the front door. She was supposed to park at the far end of the lot, but she wasn't about to walk any distance when she needed to be at work right then. She locked her car, and headed for the front entrance.

Let Security give her a ticket if they wanted.

Shelly worked in a small Mexican restaurant inside the main entrance hall. She pulled on the single entry left open for the early people going in to work and the Greyhounds that walked the mall floor for exercise. She put her key in her restaurant's lock and raised the grill just enough to get in. She lowered the grate behind her.

Time to go to work.

Johnny Shield leaped on top of the damaged car as the rider twisted his fiery horse around. The armored thing brought his sword back as he charged the faceless avenger. One blow should end this contest. It swung its blade at the silent hero. Johnny jumped over the burning sword. His leg extended in a kick that knocked the rider from his horse. The villain landed on his back as his enemy dropped to his feet. The sword went skittering along the street.

Johnny kicked the rider in the face as the killer tried to get to his feet. The armored horseman fell back to the ground with a clang of metal on asphalt.

The horse reared to kick the silent crusader away from his master. The smoking hoofs came straight down in a killing blow.

Steve Harkins checked his watch as he rode the subway train to Downtown. He thought about getting a car for the thousandth time as he waited for his stop. He was used to the train, and didn't want to get a vehicle.

Set in his ways, his dad had told him once over dinner, like an old man.

Steve had laughed at the thought. He was only thirty three. If anyone was set in his ways, it was his old man.

Still Steve rode the train in to work, stopped to smoke one last cigarette across the street from the huge clock that dominated Church Hill's center, and made a breakfast of a doughnut and coffee from a corner shop just as he had for the last five years since he had been transferred to the main branch of the bank he worked for.

He didn't mind being a creature of habit. It helped him with his job as a teller.

Steve checked his watch one more time as the train pulled to a stop. He stepped out with the rest of the commuters on the platform. The station was a few blocks away from the bank, but he should be able to grab his doughnut and coffee before work if he hurried.

Johnny Shield rolled over his shoulders, bringing his feet in touch with the ground, popping back up in his defensive stance as the horse's hoofs dug divots out of the asphalt. He turned his dodge into a leap for the reins before the steed could shy away from him. He seized the golden chains in both hands, pulling on the horse's head.

The burning rider got to his feet, looking for his sword. He saw the smouldering blade and grabbed the hilt of the weapon with a hollow laugh. Time to deal with this interloper and continue his spree.

Johnny swung at the end of the horse's reins as it tossed its head. He used the motion to drop in the saddle, turning it to face its real owner. The horse tossed its head angrily. It began to buck, trying to throw its burden to the ground where it could stomp on the silent hero. The cavalryman waved his sword, undecided where he could strike without hurting his borrowed mount.

Johnny waited until a particularly strong heave happened. He used that to spring high in the air. He flipped, aiming at the swordsman's head with both feet. He connected with the slap of leather on metal. Both combatants went down, but Johnny landed on his feet again.

The rider swung his sword, trying to get to his feet. Johnny caught his wrist with one hand, taking the sword away with the other. He kicked the swordsman away as he released the trapped limb.

Johnny took the burning blade in both hands. He brought the flat of the blade down against his knee. The strange steel broke under the quick move. He watched as rider and horse vanished in columns of smoke. The broken sword streamed out of his burned hands.

Thermite settled in the wheeled chair he had dragged to his command center at the top of the mall. He had laid cables to the cameras that watched the building, plus the cameras he had installed to watch the roof.

He had planted several surprises for anyone who tried to use the roof to get around his demands. The threat of a collapsing roof would help to keep the Leaguer and his ilk at bay.

Thermite flipped the switches for his monitors. Color images filled the screens. He smiled as his trap glimmered to life. All he needed were his flies to drift into his web.

He went over to his lunch box. He had a thermos of Pepsi, two sandwiches, and a bag of Gold Fish crackers. Before he set things in motion, he would take the time to stock up in the food court. For now, the crackers would tide him over as he checked the traps he had set around his nest to keep any pest out as he waited on his ransom.

The Specialists descended on their targets casually. Each team went into their bank, the driver remaining at the wheel of their jeeps. A show of force allowed them to loot the individual bank's teller drawers before any alarm could be triggered. The teams then retreated to their vehicles for a successful getaway.

All except one.

Cates's lead team made their way to the glass doors to make their escape. As they exited the bank, five of Church Hill's finest pulled on the scene. The Advance Team opened fire to make the cops duck for cover, but Cates's men were trapped as the police opened fire on them. The Specialists retreated back inside the bank as they fired back. The police cars were holed by the firepower.

Cates growled in frustration, knowing he was trapped for the moment.

It floated along the city's crowded streets, passing through anything in its way gently. It hesitated as it seemed to listen to a radio in a storefront. The invisible column changed direction.

It used passing vehicles to head across town. Chances were Leaguer would be there to deal with the situation before it could reach the scene. Just in case, it should try to get there to do something if the police needed the assistance.

Part of its reason to keep existing was to help those that couldn't help themselves.

The spirit of Johnny Shield worked its way to the hostage situation. Someone there would give it a body to help resolve the situation.

Steve Harkins sat on the floor in front of the long counter the tellers sat behind. He had his arm around Dorrie Clodfelter, trying to calm her down. Dorrie had two kids waiting for her to come home. Steve had been able to grab some deposit slips for her to blow her nose. Fear was making her cry uncontrollably, and he was afraid she would do something to get hurt.

The leader of the robbers listened in his earphone as he watched the police force form roadblocks to keep bystanders away from the bank. He nodded at what was being reported. He gave a set of directions into the mike at his chin.

Steve thought the man would be angry, or distressed, about being trapped in the bank with no way out. Instead he seemed to be examining the place for something. Steve watched as he walked around the room. Finally he drew an 'X' on the floor with a small paint can.

"Blow it," the guy said.

One of the robbers pulled a block of explosive from his back pack as he dropped it on the floor beside the mark. He embedded a small pencil detonator in the block and squeezed the brick into a pie shape on the carpet. He gave the leader a thumbs up as he backed off, pulling his bag with him.

Steve felt a chill wrap around his shoulders. He shifted, wondering why he was cold and sweating at the same time. The explosion punched a hole in the floor as expected. The loud boom turned everyone's eyes toward the smoky cloud rising from the carpet around the new exit. Something urged Steve to scoot back behind a chair. Words flitted from his lips, but he couldn't understand their meaning. Each syllable made the world recede into a dark cloud. Then Steve wasn't around anymore.

Johnny Shield emerged from behind the chair, using it to vault across the room in one silent spring. The hostages' guards only caught a glimpse of him before he kicked them both across the room.

"Set off the bag," Cates ordered as he fired his submachine gun at the blue blur ducking toward the writing table in front of him. Bullets chewed up the piece of furniture as it became a shield in Johnny's hands.

The explosive expert set a detonator in the remaining block of plastique in his bag. He threw it across the room as soon as he saw the ready light. Cates sprayed the rest of his clip out for cover, waving his men into the new door.

Johnny caught the bag as he shoved the desk at the robbers. It flew like a swooping eagle, smashing two of the men out of the way. Cates and his explosive man jumped into the hole, reloading as they ran along the revealed tunnel under the bank.

Johnny took the bag to the hole in the floor. A glance inside told him that he didn't have much time left to get rid of it. He slung it along the tunnel as hard as he could. He knew it would do collateral damage to the city's underground network, but lives were more important to the silent avenger.

Johnny ran the opposite direction, kicking the doors open as he shoved a chair out first. He ushered the freed hostages out in front of him, waving his hand. Policemen were rushing the front of the building, hauling people down in the street.

Johnny waved at the police before taking off along the front of the bank. The bomb in the sewer went off, providing cover for his escape as he hurtled the hood of a blocking police car.

He would have to track the gang down later. First he needed to shuck this body and let the man get on with his life.

Johnny ducked in an alley, running to the end. A small army of dumpsters blocked the view from the street. He willed his release, blue leathers becoming a cloud that faded to nothing but a cold chill.

Steve Harkins walked out of the alley, rubbing the back of his head as he tried to figure out why his bank had partially collapsed, and why he was alive to see it.

Walter Cates picked himself up out of the sewer water, wincing at the pain in his back as he moved. Small pieces of rubble clattered behind him. Pym, his explosives expert, had got caught in the blast. He was under the debris that had descended in the wake of the explosion.

Cates had plotted an escape route on a map of the city's underground before the robbery. He pulled out a flashlight, and played the beam along the walls of the tunnel. He started walking, looking for the street signs that should be posted on the walls.

Cates found a ladder a few yards down the tunnel. He climbed up, shouldering the heavy cover to one side. Luckily, traffic was light enough to let him climb out of the hole, and take cover in an alley. He pulled out his cell and called for a ride.

He didn't want to be stuck in the open for too long. Someone might want to know why he was covered in muck, then start taking a closer look at him.

Cates hid his weapons and gear in the trash can while he waited for one of his Specialists to show up.

Church Hill was reeling from the bank assault so the closing of East Summit Mall wasn't noticed until people with cell phones called out to let their families know they couldn't leave the building.

They knew they couldn't leave because a mild voice sounded from the public announcement system to tell them what was going on. Then a statue in the central fountain melted when the speaker pressed a button on a remote. Steam filled the central court in seconds, scalding some of those who had been too close to the demonstration. Two other demonstrations had been arranged for those who weren't near the center hall, and couldn't see the instantaneous destruction that had taken place. That was the only warning Thermite felt he should provide to his hostages.

A few mobbed up in a panic and rushed the main doors. Thermite waited until they were close to his booby traps before triggering the door melters. The heated metal and glass threw the people back before they had stepped on the mat he had placed in front of the entrances.

He wanted to save that for the police, and not burn the legs off his meal ticket.

The expert sipped on his milk shake as he watched the building through his cameras. All he had to do now was wait for the police to arrive to negotiate his victims' release. They would try some tricks first so he might have to kill some to get his way, but he would get his way.

Only a ghost could get into the mall without him seeing it, and he doubted the police would risk lives without knowing where he was. He turned on the news, keeping an eye out on any hero who wanted to interfere in his plans.

One wrong move would cause the East Summit to turn into a pool of slag in the middle of a tar pit.

The unseen vapor poured through the front doors of the taken mall. It looked around, swimming through the air. Occasionally it would grab a hostage walking along the storefronts to achieve a running speed.

The mist completed its search of the first floor, then worked its way through the second and third. If it had a hand, it would have scratched what would have been a head. There was no warders keeping these people here, but no one went for the doors.

The phantom ascended through the access ways to the roof top area. It found a man watching a variety of televisions, eating a sandwich from a lunch box. A half empty cup of milk shake sat in a holder on the side of his swivel chair.

The man finished his sandwich as he concentrated on the view of the police surrounding the building. He sipped on his milkshake as he waited for their initial attempt to take control of the situation.

It wouldn't be long, he decided as he drank.

The vapor rolled back downstairs. It was time to get a body and put a stop to this.

Walter Cates sipped his coffee as he watched his men at work. A shower, change of clothes, and weapon cleaning had put him in a better mood. His other teams had secured their targets and returned with their loot.

Still his team had left three bodies behind. It would take a while for them to find the last one, but the risk of exposure had climbed exponentially with just one of his men. That's why Cates had ordered his primary headquarters cleaned out. They would have to set up in a new headquarters that couldn't be tied to the dead men.

"We're ready," Wilkins reported. "All the gear and teams are divided up, vehicles cleaned and ready to go."

"Get them mounted and rolling, Sergeant," said Cates. "Staging points to the base, standard watch out."

Wilkins nodded, turning away and crossing the room. He shouted the men to get started as he walked to his own waiting driver. The identical nondescript SUVs started up as the small platoon cleared out in twenty five minute intervals to avoid suspicion.

Cates got in the last vehicle, waiting for the Specialists to roll out by the numbers. He didn't need any more problems before they concluded operations and moved to the next town.

Shelly Kroger grimaced as she looked out in the small lobby of the restaurant she worked in. People were blocking her view of the main hall, staring at the main doors like they were going to levitate out of the mall by mind power. They were scaring the paying customers, as if they weren't scared enough.

Shelly felt a chill, wrapping her shoulders. She felt a need to go to the bath room, shuddering at the clamminess playing along her skin. Maybe she was coming down with a cold.

Shelly stepped in the women's room. She sat down on the toilet, words forming in her mind. She didn't grasp their meaning as she repeated them out loud.

"Grant me protection," Shelly heard herself saying, "against my enemies. Grant me strength to pursue justice. It is time to battle for the right. So say I."

Shelly vanished in a cloud of blue, a featureless mask covering her suddenly empty face. Johnny Shield stood, pulling her jacket straight with gloved hands. She checked the small hall outside the rest room before stepping out. The flag waver stepped in the employee entrance to the back of the place, then crossed to the emergency exit before any of Shelly's coworkers could see her. She glanced around as she headed through the back corridors to her destination.

Johnny Shield walked around to the back elevator to the upper floors. She stepped inside after calling it down to her, but didn't start it moving up. Instead she jumped up, pushing the emergency hatch aside. She started climbing the inside of the elevator shaft to the access ways she would need to reach Thermite.

The mentality that had seized Shelly Kroger's body paused at a junction. It finally decided to climb as high as it could before trying to reach the holed up mastermind. It was aware that traps had been set to stop what it was about to try.

Johnny was willing to take a certain amount of risk with a host, depending on its armor and speed to protect it. It was not willing to walk into certain death. The host could not appreciate the danger as long as it had her mind buried.

Johnny pulled herself into a crawl space, moving quietly along the metal duct work with smooth movements of her arms and legs. Several trip wires were taken apart as she crawled to her goal.

So far, so good.

Johnny reached the air way leading to the fabricated control room without a major incident. She examined the room again, white eyes drawing together at the sight of the man donning a breastplate as he watched the multiple televisions in front of him. Time to go, whether she wanted to, or not.

Johnny got her feet against the grill in front of the duct work. One kick spun the rectangle across the room while she slipped out of the ventilation system. She was on her feet in an instant as the extortionist turned with an upraised hand.

Johnny froze in place, raising her hands.

"I should have expected something like this," Thermite said. "I warned the police department to keep you vigilante types away. I guess you didn't get the message."

Johnny Shield waited impassively. She could probably land one punch, but he would be able to set off any explosives he had armed with the remote he held in his hand before he hit the ground.

"I am going to give you two minutes," Thermite said. "If I don't see you outside the building, a bunch of people on the first floor will go up in smoke."

Johnny shook her head. She was not going to back away from a face off after getting within a few feet of the man. As long as she was standing there, he needed a bargaining chip to keep her at arm's reach. If he used it, he would go down in flames with the building. She held out her hand.

"Are you insane?," Thermite asked, pulling back from the reaching hand. "Get out of here if you want the hostages to live."

Johnny gauged the distance. His thumb was away from the switch. She stepped forward, still holding out her hand. He pulled back again, bumping into the desk with the back of his knees. The extortionist looked around to make sure of his footing. It only took a moment. Before he could look back at the flag waver, she closed the distance and knocked the remote from his hand. It skittered across the floor as she got in front of it to keep Thermite away from his bargaining chip.

Walter Cates smiled as he sat behind his new desk in his new office. His platoon were busy setting up their work environments, with a steady stream of reports being supplied by Wilkins.

This was a temporary situation. Cates was thinking of setting up somewhere else after one more heist. He and Wilkins had selected a target already. One last score and they would move on to another city.

He didn't need a visit from the local long johns on top of the failed robbery, and the loss of his squad. There was no telling how much information the police and FBI had after they had finished going over the scene. They would find a link to him. He was sure of that.

Cates would let the men have a night out after they were done. Then he would start planning the next job. None of them would break discipline and start talking. They were the most professional mercenaries he could assemble. Any slackers had been canned with a bullet.

Cates placed a clock on his desk, and pressed the button. A digital timer started running backward to zero. That was how much time he would allow for the next operation. After that, it was time to move on.

"I don't know who you think you are dressed like Johnny Shield," Thermite said, pulling on a gray helmet. "You're going to regret coming up here."

Johnny leaped forward, foot extended. She wanted to take this guy out in one hit before he could do something to the building. A long, drawn-out fight would give him that chance.

She struck his chest, hitting a protective plate. She bounced away as he fell backward toward his command center. He steadied himself with a hand on his desk as he raised his other hand. A small rocket erupted from a launcher built in the back of his wrist. It burned the air as it sliced towards its target. Johnny waited until it was in arm's reach before ducking to one side. It flew over her shoulder to hit the wall behind her. A new exit was punched out of the concrete wall.

Johnny kicked the remote out of the way, before rushing the mastermind. If she got in close, he wouldn't be able to hit her with another of those rockets. The silent avenger leaped, slamming both feet against Thermite's head. This time he did go down, despite the heavy ceramic plate protecting him.

The explosives expert pulled a block from a pocket on his belt. He pressed the timer attached to the plastic explosive as he flung it at his attacker. He hoped his armor would protect him from the resulting bang.

Johnny Shield swung her right fist, as she slid forward. She connected with the explosive block, knocking it across the room. It exploded as it flew behind the monitors. Shards of plastic and metal rode the blast wave suddenly filling the room with fire. She tried to drop below the fire ball. It crushed her against the floor, setting her hair and jacket on fire.

Johnny slapped at her hair, as she rolled the fire on her jacket out. At least white phosphorous had not been added to the explosive. That would have kept burning, even cutting through her shell into the bone of her host body.

Thermite grimaced at the destruction of his base. Things should have been easy. He didn't know how this pretender had located him, but he had to get rid of her before anyone became aware of his distraction and pierced his defenses on the building.

The papers said Shield was a man, so a woman had to be some kind of joke.

He fired a volley of rockets at the faceless woman to cut this battle short. The warheads should punch through that red, white, and blue coverall like a paper target. That should take care of things.

Johnny bounded over the bullet-like projectiles, smashing down with both feet. Thermite's helmet clanged against the concrete floor, rattling his fillings. Hands seized his shoulders, before he flew through the air. He bounced against the wall, rolling to the floor.

Johnny grabbed the helmet and pulled it off. She tossed it aside as she held the villain down with one arm. One head slam ended her part in the mall ransoming with decisiveness.

Walter Cates examined the blueprints on his desk closely. His target was on the waterfront, surrounded by the law, and natural barriers as well. It would be a real coup to raid that warehouse and clean it out. The street value of its contents was worth the risk.

As soon as Cates had determined the entrances to the place, he had started looking at getaway routes from the building. Once he was sure himself what he wanted to do, he and Wilkins would look the place over physically. That would help them get a grip on their battleground.

Then assignments would be handed out once a plan of attack and extraction had been determined.

Cates already knew this would be the last job they would pull in Church Hill. That vigilante had shown him he was pushing his luck. He had already designated members of his platoon to set up safe houses in Cutter Bay. After they were gone, he would start laying out the future operation for the Specialists that remained. That would minimize the risks of capture for all of them in his opinion.

Cates rubbed his eyes, as he pulled out a pad to make notes about what he wanted for the job. He decided to put someone on watch for the local vigilantes so he could minimize operation risk.

Walter Cates looked over his men before he started his briefing. He had already sent his away teams to prepare safe houses after this robbery. The bulk of their equipment had also been moved. The weapons they were going to use for this job would be thrown in the bay after they were finished.

Blueprints and pictures of the target were displayed as Cates pointed out where wanted his men to attack, then retreat with their loot. Getaway drivers were tasked with securing transport away from the building. These vehicles would also be discarded after use.

At the end of the briefing, Cates answered any questions his men had. Then he told them to get ready and get into position. They would do the job, retreat to their gathering spot, then leave town as quickly as possible.

Cates waited for his men to leave before he got into the jeep driven to be by his executive officer and started to his own position.

The ghost that used to be Jack Buckler stood at a crossroads. It had scoured the city for the felons that had escaped its grasp. It knew that the robbers had not left yet, at least not all of them. The police has shut the city limits down while they searched for the Specialists. He had not heard of any trouble on that score.

They had to be in Church Hill.

The mentality spotted a familiar face walking in the crowd. He latched onto that person for lack of something better to do. He could follow Marvin Kincaid around until he came up with another idea.

Marvin dragged Johnny to the waterfront. He seemed unaffected by the earlier time he had been possessed. The ghost tried not to possess the same person more than once, but emergencies sometimes made that happen whether he liked it, or not.

The two of them wandered along the docks for a few hours as Marvin went into receiving offices and asked questions of the people on duty. He made notes of any answers he got. That was few since some people didn't want to talk about their operations.

Gunfire attracted the two men's attention as they stood by the water.

Johnny urged his companion to say the words to set him loose to look into this. Marvin looked undecided, torn by conflicting impulses. Then he said the incantation to turn over his body to the silent avenger.

The cloudy form of Johnny Shield took on form and substance as he rushed toward the sound of the guns firing. He hoped this was not a new criminal deciding to go into practice after the last day of handling threats.

He still felt bad about having to leave Shelly Kroger on the mall's roof top after the battle with Thermite. It had been necessary to protect her from anyone that might think she was him, but he knew it wouldn't be good for her to be rescued by the cops and firemen.

They might think anything but the truth.

Johnny couldn't worry about that now. He had a robbery, or murder, to stop.

The silent hero cleared a corner of a warehouse. Men in green uniforms, and masks, were taking boxes from the building, while others stood guard with automatic weapons. Three boats waited with drivers behind the wheels.

Johnny recognized the uniforms, and one man in a mask recognized him as he rushed forward to interfere. He could see it in the man's eyes. Someone from the aborted bank robbery, maybe?

Walter Cates was standing as a lookout one side of the marching line. The operation had gone just the way he planned it. Then the masked freak showed at the last second. And he was charging the group faster than a man should be able to.

Cates leveled the assault rifle he carried. He pulled the trigger, and held it. Hot brass filled the air as his magazine emptied out in a cloud of gunsmoke. He dropped the weapon to pull his pistol. He had reacted without thought.

The problem was Johnny Shield had reacted faster than Cates and threw himself out of the way of the stream of bullets. He was tough, but not tough enough to stop a steady stream of bullets. His host might die under the stress.

The other Specialists opened fire at Johnny in reaction to Cates. They didn't quite have a bead on the blurring thing coming at them, but filling the air with projectiles was a good way to stop it. They weren't quite ready for the vigilante to leap over their field of fire and start using his agility and strength on their bodies.

The Specialists were good against normal men, against men who had didn't move like lightning. Their faceless foe was in their grouping, striking at will. That made it doubly hard to draw a bead on his blue form without also taking aim on another man in their small platoon.

"Fall back," ordered Cates, dropping an empty clip out of his submachine gun. "Drop the money, and fall back."

Johnny Shield took a moment to look around as he threw a man to the ground as hard as he could. If he had possessed a better angle, he would used the man to batter two of his comrades out of his way as he tried to take the leader of the group.

Most of his punches had taken out a man apiece when they landed. He had kicked two down when they tried to shoot him. The rest had gathered the far end of their loot, some trying to reload their weapons as Cates was doing. Johnny's headcount told him that half of the thieves were down.

All he had to do was round the rest of the crooks up.

The Specialists took aim, and let off a concentrated volley at the silent avenger.

The automatic fire chewed up the concrete dock as hot brass filled the air in a tinkling spray. The blue-clad Johnny Shield leaped for cover as bullets reached for him. He would have to pick off stragglers now that he had forced a retreat. There was no way to cut into a massed group like that unarmed.

The remaining Specialists dropped into waiting boats bobbing below the docks. Cates waited until his men were clear before he dropped into the last speedboat. He made sure to drop a grenade on the loading area to keep the faceless hero back.

Time for his group to clear out of town before another vigilante got on their trail. A rescue mission for his men would also have to go on the planning boards. That was a guarantee that he had made when he hired his men.

He couldn't, wouldn't, leave them behind bars.

Cates didn't know that his persistent foe was following his boat along the shoreline. If he had, he might have had his driver turn the boat towards the sea until he was lost from sight. Instead he cruised south to a pier where he could dump the boat and make a slow getaway in a parked rental car. He would have just enough time to catch his flight.

The driver pulled into the slip, holding the boat steady for a man to jump to the dock and tie the bow down. Then he cut the power as another man tied off the stern. The group disembarked, throwing their disguises and weapons into the boat. Cates used a silenced pistol to punch holes in the bottom of the boat before they cut the lines again. The boat drifted from the dock, slowly sinking as it went.

Cates led the way toward shore, confident that he was going to make a clean getaway. Then he could see about extracting his men from the jail, or prison. He just needed a chance to recover from the beating his group had taken.

A blue blur leaped from a moored sailboat to Cates's left. He brought his hands to defend himself as two of his four men went down with one blow. The third went into ocean after a gloved hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. Cates swung, aiming to crush the attacker's throat with one punch. He saw himself miss as the world seemed to turn itself upside down. He hit the dock hard, passing out from the blow.

Cates woke up in a prison ward at a hospital. A police guard stood at his door, and handcuffs held him to his bed.

epilogue

A cloud stood on a street corner. High overhead, a giant clock triggered a bell to sound the hour. The cloud shivered as people walked through it. They shook from cold as they passed.

The cloud smiled to itself as it latched onto one of the pedestrians and walked with him. A shadow had been on the city for the last few days. It had helped shine a light in the darkness and dispersed it for the moment.

If you were trapped between life and death, you couldn't ask for anything more than that. You took what success you could, and enjoyed it.

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