Any similarity of characters in this book to real people or buildings is merely

coincidental.

This is solely the work of the author.

The Avenging Angel
by Kevin Cossentine

Chapter 1

Returning to work after that compulsory week long vacation everyone at TelCom Network had to take was
bad enough, but knowing that four people had lost their lives on this very floor while discussing a rumor
about unexplainable deaths just three weeks prior was another thing altogether. It was some guy, probably
the same one who was responsible for wiping out a whole bank full of customers then slipped out from
right under the police's very noses as they surrounded the place.

In here, the rampaging blood bath had wrecked the carpet, the walls, the ceiling and cubicles not very far
from one man in particular. After finding his station just as he had left it a week ago, except for the bullet
holes of course. Turning, he glanced at the little mirror he had strategically positioned so that that
annoying cubby-neighbor of his could not come up behind him unannounced. Immediately, John Davidson
began to feel overwhelmed with feelings of uselessness and guilt for not being able to do something for
those poor souls. "What could I have done to save them," he murmured himself, "I would have been just as
dead if I tried, so you have to get control of these emotions man, or it will destroy you."

Living in a city of such great technologies, one would think they would be sheltered from the mass of
criminal activity, but in this day and age, no one is spared the assault of attack. Breaking into his reverie,
he hears, "That's what you get for being in a big city of southern California, dude." Tony, his annoying co-
worker from the cubicle next to his said abruptly after seeing the sorrow, the concern, and the frustration on
John's face.

John countered with, "What do you mean, Tony?"

"Ah man, can't you see this job and place is killing ya?" Leaning on the top edge of the divider wall
casually he continues. "It's like I said from the beginning, two years ago man, this is not the place for you.
You get affected by just about everything. You're too kind-hearted to brave the storm of life in the big city
where all the big criminals are."
"Oh, come off it Tony, I can too handle it! It's just... well, these past few weeks have been kinda hard on
me, ya know. After all, I nearly bought the big one right here, and we both know it." John blurted out
defensively.

"Hey, woe there buddy, I'm on your side, not the shrinks the company sent you to last month. Remember
that," he countered, "when the chips start falling and ya need someone to back ya up."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry for taking it out on you like that."

"That's ok Johnny boy, that's what friends are for," he quipped. "Hey, I have to run off for awhile, why
don't we have lunch later on today."

"Yeah, ok. That sounds like a good idea. Thanks."

After Tony rushes off on his errand, John slumps in his chair for a brief respite hoping no one else took
notice then headed for the men's room to freshen up abit. Feeling sorry for himself, he looks into the mirror
for encouragement. "Well, John, four days ago was your 34th birthday and you still haven't told a soul.
You, have nothing really to show for it but a few stories that were placed on the internet." Their short
lifespan was due to the fact that one of his readers removed them without saying why. "You have no social
life to speak of. What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked the one that stared back at him. "Come
on John boy, snap out of it. After all, things couldn't get worse that they have, could they?" The reflection
in the mirror was not something he cared to see these days --a troubled but an everyday, so-so face. The
silence was not reassuring to him. Coming away from the mirror, he leaves the men's room with a foul
taste in his mouth and a sinking feeling in the gut. He stops as he gets a weird premonition, stares off into
nowhere. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he continues on toward his cubicle to finish an overdue
story.

Settling into his chair and facing the console that sat humming silently and awaiting more input, he thought
"what else can I put into this story before turning it in for appraisal. The bad guy's out of action and justice
prevails once more. What more could there be?" Suddenly, he hits upon an idea that would, he hopes, spur
an interest in the reader to want to read the next issue of his story.

* * * * *

"Core!" Phalor shouted in his mike.

"What is it? Did you find something?"

"Come here, quick!"

Core was the quiet, analytical thinker, while Phalor happened to be the excitable one... which at this very
moment is banging the arm rest as if that would speed up Core's actions to come where he sat. "Come on."
He rasped.

"All right. What is it this time." Core is doubtful there is anything new this time around. It's been like this
for nearly a decade which was the last time they thought a likely candidate was found but wasn't. They've
been scouting this little blue planet with little success at finding a good candidate for their assigned project.

"I think this is the one. I really do!"

"Give me the status on him." Core says.

Phalor then proceeds to give him the stats excitedly. "The individual is a male of 34 cycles, is what the
Earthy's call Caucasian. He resides just outside the major target area but works within it. He's a bit over
five of their measures. No siblings or parents survived the last planet quake ten cycles ago. He is what
they call a fantasy writer. His stories are of beings like themselves who possess incredible powers. The
most outstanding and qualifying characteristic --he possesses a desire to rid his planet of the injustice that
pervades to its very core, even though he is incapable of doing anything."

"Why is that?" Core asks.

"He is somewhat of a timid man who is wishes he were different."

"According to many of the citizens down there, they would call him a 'softy' and a 'visionary' because of his
kind heart. Many of these people feel that anyone who still believes in "justice for all" is considered an
idealist and a fool. His believes in a being called God, a tradition among a sporadic few lately. He beleives
a criminal have no rights once they break their universal code of conduct and should pay for their criminal
activity... instead of going free unpunished. He believes in an 'eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth'
philosophy."

"A real wannabe hero of his kind, it looks like." Core says. "Well, it's the best we've come across in
decades since our arrival and we can't spend any more time looking for another. Headquarters just flashed
us about returning to base in the next cycle turn-around, so let's do it. I'll contact HQ and give them the
rundown to see if we might be allowed more time to stay, considering the present situation."

"All right! I'll get preparations underway for translation." Whirling about in his seat, Phalor gives up a
whoop of delight. "Man, oh man. Are we going to have fun with this world!" He grins, jumps about in his
seat, and starts making an unusual sound he picked up from these Earth's.

* * * * *

Off in a private compartment of the ship, there is a heated conversation between Core and an older man.

"...I repeat, after translation you will not remain more than one of their weekly cycles. Is that clear,
Scoutmaster?" Councilman Maneer stated from the comfort of his private chamber's comm station. Core
began to look away and bored by having to hear this same speech the Councilman have been giving for the
past few assignments handed out. "We may have already used more resources and time than we should
have on this secret project. Remember, their world is primitive, they have been surrounded by misguided
fools since their technology abruptly began after their 20th century. We cannot allow them to detect you
two and cause more chaos." With this his demeanor changed to a more warmer attitude. "Make sure the
candidate is imputed the maximum capacities we supplied you with. There is a new monitor stored in the
compartment marked 'Slash A'. Set it in their lunar's orbit with the proper shields activated. We don't want
them to discover what is up there before acquisition is made by the new candidate. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Councilman." Core replied grudgingly.

"Very good. You may proceed. Afterwards, I expect you back at HQ by one fifth of our cycles..."

With that over with, Core breathed a sigh relief. Then abruptly Councilman Maneer speaks once more, but
in a personal manner... "Safe journey my son."

Core pauses for a moment before replying. "I'll see you then father."
Chapter 2

As John was driving home alone and despondent, he continued to have this nagging feeling that something
was about to happen. Then abruptly a delivery truck blares at him and yells at the top of his lungs. "Move
out of the way or next time I'll run over you."

Shaking out of his reverie he grips the wheel tighter. "Whew, that was a close one. Another foot my way
and I would've been a grease spot." He chuckles at the thought of becoming a grease spot and the rescue
squad trying to figure out which was heads and which was tails.

Before he could do anything else, the earth starts trembling. He looks around to see what could be making
that happen. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he proceeds southeast to his suburban apartment.
Casually he says, "These quakes are becoming more frequent these days. A regular shake-n-bake town."
But deep down he feared the quakes -- ever since the big one ten years ago that took his parents and sister,
he has felt skittish when they occurred.

Finally he can relax from the turmoil of city life, he thinks. Turning on the TV and switching to the world
network news channel, he watches as another criminal is released from court from a lack of evidence. With
a deep sigh of grief and resignation, he shakes his head and thinks, "Will justice ever prevail?"

* * * * *

At this very moment, high up in orbit directly above John Davidson's home, there is an air of excitement
permeating throughout the ship.

"All systems are go," says Phalor excitedly.

"I read you." Replied Core. "Ten sectars from... my... mark."

As the counter ticks off the numbers, even Core is overwhelmed with expectation as he awaits the
transformation to take place down below. Viewing this event on the long rang viewer, the man named John
Davidson is unaware of what is about to transpire as Core is focused on his task. "Stay put fella, don't
move off from that lounger. Just… a few… more… sectars. Gotcha!"

Soon the ship's tractor beam zooms down below gripping the human subject. Outside the range humans
can detect, a beam focuses on John as he is frozen in his seat looking for all the world like a scared rabbit
trapped in a tight spot by a hunting dog. He shouts, "What's... hap...pen...ing... to... me?" As each word
and syllable is uttered, the intensity of his words change from a high tenor to a solid baritone, but nobody
hears him because the neighbors have not yet come home, for it was only 2pm eastern standard time.

Even before the words escaped his lips, he feels his muscles expanding and solidifying more densely than
he could have imagined. Likewise, his whole physical frame began to lengthen to accommodate his new
muscle and skeleton structure. No sooner had his body apportioned itself, then a plasma beam catches him
in the chest causing him to rise from the couch he was sitting on and hang in mid-air, a foot above the floor
with his head, arms and legs hanging lax and downward.

From up above in the station, there are alarms going off right and left. The two scouts stare at each other in
shock. This has never happened before, what could it be? Phalor looks over at Core as if he would have
the answer which he doesn't. In the meantime, he is racing to and fro from one station to the next trying to
find the problem when all becomes dead quiet. On the main control console, a set of green letters are
flashing across the monitor. 'SEQUENCE COMPLETE. SPECIMEN STATUS NOMINAL' causing both
scouts to breath a sigh of contentment.
"Whew, that was a close one, Core." Phalor exclaims with intense relief. "Another sectar, and we would
have been destroyed."

"Phalor, you make the necessary check on the monitor while I check out the cause of the overload." Five
minutes later Core found out why. "Phalor, listen to this." Sounding mystified. "It appears we chose a very
unique human. That overload we experienced was attributed to his emotional state at the time of
translation and an unusual chemical development took place. He was subconsciously drawing more power
than we were suppose to provide."

"Is that suppose to happen?" Phalor asked with a look of horror. "We never gave that much translation
power to any being before."

"Well, it's too late now, but I think this project is going to turn out far better than we ever expected."

From their viewing monitors, they witness the results of their experiment. John Davidson is no longer a
poor weakling but a fine 6 and a half foot tall human male. His muscles rippling with raw power.

"It's time for me to explain to him his mission." Core announced after his monitors detect him moving
about.

"Be careful, Core."

With a nod of acknowledgment and a flash of light, he was transported planet-side to a spot close to his
intended subject's vicinity --his back yard.

* * * * *

After a half hour his time, John gets up from the floor shaken but not unsteadily to his feet. Bringing a
hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, he stops. This can't be my hand and arm, can it? he asks
himself as he stares down at the body that is attached to that arm which is his --but yet, not his.

Running to the mirror in the hallway, he freezes with horror mixed with fascination as he sees the person
staring back at him in the reflection. Instead of dark brown hair and a face with hazel eyes, the one looking
back at him has jet black hair and steel-gray eyes. He comes nearer to the mirror to get a closer look and
while he stares with concentration at the stranger's facial features, the mirror starts to change. It's form
begins to bulge from where the eyes would have been and flares outward like ripples in water with hot
sinks of liquefied glass. Stumbling backwards aghast, he notices the mirror halting its meltdown action and
begins its cooling process. "This has got to be..." he breaks off in mid-sentence as he hears the voice that is
not his own, but a stranger's, speak from his own mouth.

As he wonders about all this he turns to the sound of static. With the look of surprise, he sees what appears
to be a 3-d monitor display hanging in mid-air at the center of his living room. While investigating up
close, there is an abrupt change in frequency as if someone was just tuning into a radio station when a very
strange man appears on its surface. "What the..."

"Don't be alarmed. My name is Scoutmaster Core. You must be wondering about a lot of things right now
and how I am able to talk to you this way. It would be a little difficult to do in length at this time, in this
way, so I would very much like to speak with you face to face --but only if you are willing to."

"Uh... sure, I don't mind." John replied. Inside he was thinking, 'as if I had a choice in the matter.'

Abruptly the transmission ends and instantly the man on the 3-d display appears beside him dressed in what
looked like a two-piece maroon colored spandex outfit holding a container. "Greetings John Davidson. It's
a pleasure to meet you."
"How... how do you know me?" he inquired.

"We, my scout partner and I, have been watching your world for over three decades searching for a suitable
candidate such as yourself."

"Candidate? Candidate for what?" He implored suspiciously.

"Why... to bring justice and order back into this world of yours." He politely states.

"So you're responsible for this transformation of mine!" he said pointing an accusing finger at this stranger.

"Yes, we are. I am sorry that it had to happen this way, but had we asked you, you may not have accepted
our offer, and we do not have much time left for us to seek out another possible candidate. No one, and I
repeat no one, must know about us or how you have become as you are. For you see John Davidson, I am
not from your world."

'Oh great, just what he needed. A confrontation with aliens after being changed by them.' He muses
silently, but out loud he says, "Aren't you afraid I might blab it all over town after you go?"

Amused, Core continued. "That would not be in your best interest. If you 'blabbed' or if anyone found out,
there would be groups who would more than likely want to put you under the blade and a microscope to
determine how you came about or the power you now have."

"You mean my being able to mess up my mirror?" John intoned as he pointed over to the one on the wall in
the hallway with distorted round pockmarks.

"Oh, much more than heat rays. Much more indeed." Core explained. "You have been endowed with
power that rivals this comic book hero in this here document." Handing him the latest copy of a local super
hero magazine.

"You have got to be kidding," John says.

"No... I am not. In our observation of your world, we have determined that crime and injustice outweigh
the good. What is in your heart was found to be greater than what was in the hearts of many --the desire to
place your life on the line for a total stranger. It appears that most of your fellow citizens are not willing to
do so, not even to challenge the forces of evil and fight the injustice of the world. You are rare."

"Is that why you chose me to be similar to these fictitious characters?" he asked.

"With all the fantasy literature this world had produced, none has come close to what one of these
characters are like. Your world needs a savior to help it along and to be its banner over crime. What better
figure than one like this character here. “Pointing at a figure dressed in red and blue. “After all, your
people ache to have real heroes dwelling amongst you to do for them what they are afraid to do themselves.
They are indifferent, yet wish for something or someone to do it. So, we decided to give what this planet
so much desired, and with our technology combined with your desire to help, we chose to give you a make-
over in lieu of your new line of work."

After moments of deep thought in an attempt to comprehend it all, he says, "O...kay, I accept." says John.
"Just what kind of power and capabilities do I have?"

Impressed with his ability to adjust to extreme circumstances, he sits down beside him on the couch. "To
start off with, we made it possible for you to have nearly the same capabilities as this character is described
as having. You will be able to defy the forces of gravity at will...”

"You mean I will be able to fly?"

"Ummm... yes."

"Kewl!" John exclaims. "I've always wanted to do that."

"May I continue without interruption?" Sounding off with parental exasperation. With a nod of meekness
from John he continues. "Thank you. You have noticed that heat beams come from your eyes. You will,
in time, be able to focus them to be of any intensity you wish creating a sort of laser with them. With your
new transformed body, you will be nearly impervious to nearly all known weapons and viruses your
civilization is capable of creating. There is a small percentage that you are capable of being destroyed if
you are not careful, but it’s not worth mentioning. You will more than likely die of extreme old age than of
anything."

"You have the following capabilities: able to fly at great velocities; heat vision, acute hearing; capable of
freezing items with your breath, since your lungs are now stronger than a normal person's, thereby creating
lower air currents and you are also able to hold your breath for an extended time period. Your strength is
so great, you may be able to pulverize steel with your bare hands, but that is not certain. Your power is
generated by digestion of food and drink as well as absorption from the magnetic influx created by all
celestial bodies. Not only will your unique physiology prevents detection by any surveillance devices your
people are capable of devising as you travel, but also visually should you desire it, since the material that is
now part of your DNA, the microscopic components that have infused with your own are not of this world
but from afar. You can also pass through solid material."

Without waiting for an injected comment during a pause for breath, Core continues. "For your further
enhancement and education, there is a monitor in orbit surrounding the lunar satellite of this planet which is
stationed on its dark side. It is protected by massive deflectors & screens and has evasive thrusters to avoid
anything approaching it except for you. It can be accessed in two ways: it will automatically detect your
presence via a device in this container should you fly up to it, or by using a device I will show you shortly.

When you are within Luna’s dark zone, it acknowledges your presence and will allow you to board it.
Inside, you will find technologies your species have only dreamt about ever existing; what you call
artificial intelligence along with a physical rejuvenator should you ever need it. The precautions have been
established so it will be undetected by this planet's technology and will powered by an energy source that
can last for many hundreds of your earth cycles. If you die without an heir, the monitor will implode
within days leaving no trace of its existence. However, that heir will inherit the capabilities you now
possess. If you so desire, you may share some of this knowledge with a select few of your scientists you
absolutely determine as trustworthy."

As Core explains all this, he stopped talking abruptly and looks him squarely in the eyes and says, "Do not
think this new life you have will be one of fun, glamour and glory. It will not. You may have cycles of
unending work, sadness, maybe even regret for things you did not accomplish, but you will help millions of
needy individuals. Since these types of fictional characters have already indoctrinated your people, you
may be accepted rather quickly, depending on how you handle yourself. It's all up to you. This is a most
grave and honored responsibility you are given. Use it wisely."

"Well," John says, "Now that we have this settled, do I stay here or will I have to relocate?"

In answer to that query, Core replies, "That's really up to you. But, you would be better off being near
where you would be able to maintain your double identity, as a free-lance writer you have always wanted to
be, and also by your constant travels. I know of the perfect place. It is presently unused and ready for
occupancy. If you wish we… may check it out now."

"That sounds interesting. Yes, lets do that." John answers with enthusiasm.

In response, Core reaches to his belt, presses a recessed button and they are instantly transported there in a
blink of the eye.
As they materialize at the front door of the house, John asks in somewhat shock, "Exactly what do you call
what just happened?"

"That? Oh… we call it "matter transference. This device operates in connection to an individual’s brain
waves. This one maintains a connection with the scout ship. You will have use of this technology also."

They enter the house and walk down the hallway to a door that opened to reveal an “elevator.” In truth, it
is a transporter. It takes them down to an area below ground level. As they step out, they entered a modest
sized room. A myriad of lights came on automatically sensing the presence of life. There was some source
of lighting he knew nothing of which illuminated the whole room, dispelling all shadows. Before them
spanned electronic devices, computers and equipment of all types. The computers were arranged in a semi-
circular fashion facing a wall with a large flat screen. Core said these items would aid him in his duty to
protect and meet out justice. Off to one side was a scientific lab to be used as required to design any useful
tools I thought would be useful, or to troubleshoot such as needed.

To the opposite side were a collection of various pieces of equipment he might want to use as the need
arose. Bewildered, John said, "You had everything in order… before I was selected, didn't you?" Core
nodded in admission.

"Thank you. I won't disappoint you or let my people down." To that confession, he only nodded approval
as he led the way back to the “elevator.”

Returning to the first floor, John was led through French doors on their left that opened into a comfortable
study, his office, with walls of such magnificent Mahogany wood he’s never dreamt existed before. There
was a ceiling high bookshelf with a myriad of books lined up on its shelves, waiting to be explored, with
another computer on the desk that was linked to the mainframe in the room below but without cables.
Before leaving the study, Core explained there was another way to access the basement. There was a
section of the wall that was of a slightly different shade as compared to the remainder of the wall, but Core
explained that only the right person could detect it with their enhanced vision, or operate it, since it was
linked to the person’s DNA.

Once the initialization was finished, Core said that if an unauthorized person approached the wall, it would
remain in its normal state, looking as any of the other walls in the room to the unsuspecting, but because
John was now able to pass through solid items, he could pass through the wall and into the “elevator” with
ease as thought there was nothing to obstruct him.

Then he was led across the hallway to the living room that was designed with ample room to house any
décor, furniture, etc., with a few zigs & zags for variety sake. The fireplace was not real. It was something
one might see in a SciFi or HiTech movie that emanated unusual “flames” without actually being able to
catch anything on fire yet produce warmth to the whole room. How it was powered was a mystery, yet it
could be set like most modern thermostats.

After being shown to the other rooms in the house, Core asked with anticipation,"Well, what do you think
of this place? There's plenty of room for whatever you wish to do with it."

John admitted it was magnificent with its structure and design being quite advanced. He absolutely
LOVED the way everything was laid out in simplicity, charm, and yet… with an intended purpose!

Upon hhearing this, he said, "We must now return to your former home. Come."

________________ ________________ ________________

After an hour of instructions had come and gone in the use his new abilities, Core stopped, looked at John
and said in a somewhat mischievous yet whimsical manner, "Now then. I have one more thing that will be
of great help to you. My people designed an outfit that would be appropriate for when you appear in public
as your new self helping others." With this said, he laid a container he had been keeping close to his side
since returning to John’s home on the table with a flare for the dramatics. Upon pressing a secret panel, the
top dissolved displaying its contents. There nestled inside were neatly folded items of clothing and several
interesting devices.

Removing the outfit, he handed it to John. "Your costume brave hero," he said with a grin.

Most outfits they provided for regular use were self-adjusting, while others were made specifically for the
selected frame once their bodies had been transformed.

He groaned inwardly and blurted out, "I should have known," however… there was a bit of surprise and
humor detected in his voice. Looking at the dark blue outfit and high boots, he was skeptical of being
taken seriously, saying as much.

"Don’t be such a pessimist. Why don't you try it on and see how it looks." Core prompted.

After several minutes, John walks out rather embarrassed. "Well, well. Aren't you a fine specimen of your
kind!" Core exclaimed with more of his natural humor, but also with a touch of admiration.

In truth, John was truly an incredible sight. Muscles were bulging in all the right places, but were not in
any way grotesque as some bodybuilders might look. He was the epitome of what a human ought to look
like in their finest hour. His cape came down to around the his calves, overlapping the boots he wore. This
body suit was a two-piece unit and of thin, self-sealing material that stretched over the whole surface once
it was put on. It was an intense blue that seemed to reach out and grab you. The form fitting boots, the
letter across the chest, and the cape were a dark navy blue. The deep red cape, when hooked on around the
neck and shoulders would meld to its mountings that were within the fabric of the main body suit and could
be removed only by the touch of his hands so as not to be lost in flight.

"Is this outfit truly necessary?" John asks.

"Yes." Core replies. "The blue combination is symbolic as well as practical. The lighter blue represents
'the sky's the limit' to one's dreams. The deep blue color of the cape represents the sacrifice that is required
of the wearer who gives for the sake of others, and also… that which is worth fighting for is not always
easily attained. The color will also make it more difficult for someone to notice you coming while flying.
The dual color tones signify your experiences through good times and the bad.

You may be wondering what the double 'A' is for. Although John nods to that inquiry, he initially thought
it was just a fancy "M" instead. "It stands for 'Avenging Angel'. Your fellow beings are obsessed with
flying creatures, and the obsession of angels is the strongest of them all.

Explaining the ideals he must always uphold while dealing with criminal activity, Core wound it all up by
giving his farewell to the Avenging Angel.

“Ok, but wait. Wwhat about my face? I mean… shouldn’t I have a mask or something?"

Core replies, “Not really. While this suit is activated, your face automatically takes on a slightly different
appearance, thus you don’t need one. Press the collar at your throat and see what happens.”

Complying, the suit becomes cloaked. He then looks in the mirror only to see that he looks just as he had
before donning the suit. After re-activating the switch, all while peering in the mirror, his face takes on a
slightly different appearance. “That is kewl, man! Wow."

He nods, and bidding him farewell, he vanishes from his site and is transported back to the scout ship.

* * * * *
Back aboard the scout ship, Core looked totally enthralled at Phalor. "Our job is complete now that the
monitor is in place. I’d like to observe him during his first encounter to record the reaction of the people"
He said.

"That may be a problem." Phalor mischievously said.

"And why is that?"

"Well you see, while you were tutoring our friend down there, Councilman Maneer flashed us a quick
message... to return at once. It appears the other Council members have decided to relocate him --to.., to..,"

"Well... to where?" Core demanded impatiently.

"To the outer ring world where the center of attention seems to be these days. He requested you hurry as
fast as you can to finalize this unusual experiment. So I took it upon myself to activate the monitor in
'Slash A' to record everything that involves him, as you mentioned before you left planet side so that we
could start out immediately upon your arrival onboard. Core, why you of all people, does Councilman
Maneer asks for? You are just another Scoutmaster like myself... aren't you? I mean, we've been through a
lot together in many missions. Why you?"

Core slowly sits next to his longtime friend without saying a word. After a moment of extreme silence and
discomfort while looking down at his hands, he looks up and says, "He's my father, Phalor."

Shock and bewilderment crosses Phalor's face. "What do you mean, he's your father. Your parents are
both dead and that's why you and I were raised in the Children's Ward. We were selected and trained to do
this type of work, 'to search out other life forms' and if they are capable of integration into the collective
community, we bring back this news to the council members." Sadly, Core shakes his head sadly then
began to tell him the whole, undiluted truth, this time.

For all intents and purposes, Core's family was destroyed during an accidental tour to the outer ring society.
But in reality, the day his father was offered the position of chancellor to the then Master Councilor Jor,
Core's mother disapproved and left him the baby without notice or saying good-bye. No one knew she had
just given birth to Core except the Birthing Aid, so when the shuttle boat exploded prior to docking with
the outer ring, Maneer decided that it would be better if Core did not stay with him without a mother.
Maneer felt that to be brought up in a home of a council member without the tender love of a mother to
raise him would be unforgivable. He would be chastised and harassed beyond tolerances as he grew up, so
Core was placed in the Children's Ward where other children who did not have parents would treat him
more kindly.

As the years progressed, Maneer kept his eye on the young man and was constantly manipulating situations
that would lead him to where he was now; Space Exploration, Recon and Special Projects --or Scoutmaster,
if you please.

"But, when did you find out about your true identity, Core?" intoned Phalor.

"It was during the Last Cycle switch over." He said. "I was just returning from a harrowing mission ahead
of schedule. It was the one you were kept from participating in, because it a very secret and sensitive one.
Remember? Well, Maneer was in a link-up conference session with Hanger Bay Administrator, Tulok.
Before they were finished, I had reached the holding room outside his portal and overheard part of the
conversation." Hearing this, Phalor was shocked to hear Core would have been so bold to do such a thing
as eavesdrop on his superiors, but Core ignored his friend's expression. "Tulok thought no one was
scheduled to arrive any time soon, so he left it open. What was one to do, pretend one wasn't talking about
them behind their back? Anyhow, my father was saying to him that the mission Tulok sent me on was too
dangerous for the likes of his son, me, and that he would be reprimanded for placing me in harm’s way.
From then on, I started to piece together the reason my life took the course it did and realized it was
Councilman Maneer who was behind it all, every step of the way."

"What did you do then, Core?"

"I didn't do anything about it... immediately that is. It was after a quarter cycle that I approached him about
my origins."

"Did he deny it?"

"Of course. Wouldn't you!" Core said. "But, when I relentlessly pointed out all the events that shaped my
career… that only he could have done, he surrendered and began telling the truth."

"It mustn't have been easy knowing your true identity when everything you've come to know was a lie, I
suppose." Phalor said trying to console his friend.

"We have a long way to go, him and I, before we are close. Nobody else must ever find out I am his son,
do you hear?" He said fiercely grabbing his friend's shoulders tightly.

"Ow! Hey, let go. But why not?"

"Because there are those in position that would not hesitate to use this secret against him. If it were made
public, it could ruin his reputation and standing in the council chamber. He’s too good at what he does to
let something like this ruin his career, that’s why."

"Oh. That must be why he was summoning you in the way he did." Phalor stated expectedly.

"We shall see." Abruptly switching from a somber mood to one of business, he asked. "Has the monitor
responded to your verification code?"

"Yes."

"Then let's return to HQ and see what we shall see, whether it be for the good… or for bad." Core said in a
deadpan voice.

Moments later, with a streak and a brief flash, the scout ship hurtled through space as the trans-warp
engines operated at maximum speed leaving the tiny blue planet to itself and their new savior.
Chapter 3

As the excitement and the thrill of flight was sinking into John's being, he realized that this was not just a
game, or joy ride, but was a great privilege and responsibility that Core’s people had bestowed upon him.

Breaking out of his reverie, he heard gun shots down in the streets below. Immediately he dives to the
scene. In a blue streak, he settles between the gunmen and a group of bystanders who were cowering in
fear of this incredible being who abruptly appeared out of the sky and by whom was assaulted by the spray
of bullets being fired at him. The gunmen paused briefly at this person who suddenly dived down and
stood in their path of flying bullets intended for the passerby's.

Staring with disbelief and shock, they recover. Using the remaining amount of ammo, they attempted to
riddle him with bullets. Holding his cape out wide so as to deflect and catch any stray bullets that could
have gone around him to the onlookers behind, he just shook his head in a reprimanding fashion that
could've been comical in any other circumstance. After they emptied their weapons, he lowered his cape.
The sound of the impacted lead bullets falling to the pavement could be heard over the stillness of the
crowd.

"That was not a good idea, gentlemen," he said casually. "Attempted murder will not go well for any of
you." After the shock wore away, some tried to run from this blue clad stranger, while some were tripping
over each other trying to escape this wonder of wonders. Within seconds they were rounded up by a blur
swirling blue.

Moments later, the cops were on the scene wondering how these men happened to be all tied up. As they
were being lead to the squad cars, they were rambling hysterically about a flying man. Some of the by-
standers were also trying to explain through semi-hysteria that a man in blue tights and a cape had saved
them from a massacre these men would surely have brought upon them.

It was too incredible for the cops to believe when they heard their accounts. 'Surely these people are in
shock and in need of medical attention,' thought the officer in charge. Instead of protesting, they pointed to
the sky to where the man in blue went. Scouring the sky, he was nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, the Avenging Angel was busy inspecting his suit several miles up in the sky, directly above the
incident that just took place. "Not a scratch on me," he said incredulously. "Incredible! With all those
bullets blazing at me, one would think there'd be at least a few nicks or scratches, but nothing! It looks as if
that small force field emanating from this suit's material actually works." With that said, he dove down to a
new emergency he detected 4 miles away from the first encounter.

* * * * *

That evening, he had nothing else to do, so he went soaring high across the sky just under the cloud layer.
This happened a lot, because it enabled him to see a larger expanse of land. Just then he detected a
disparaging sound below. Still unable to pinpoint sounds from such a great height, he descended lower to
investigate.
The blaze in the retirement home was too intense, in many areas, for anyone to approach. Screams and
sirens could be heard... even above the roar of flames. As the local fire departments tried in vain to
extinguish it, they all felt it was a lost cause. While the fire chief was explaining a few options to one of his
firemen as to how they might extinguish this hellfire, a young nursing attendant, Sharon, was frantically
calling out for one of her charges with the hopes of finding her. With no reply, she kept calling her name in
hopes of hearing her reply. "Louise, Louise," but with no answer.

"Sharon… Louise didn't come out with the rest of us. Maybe she is in another group." An old weathered
resident said as she hobbled up to her.

"What?! She didn't come out with you? Then where could she be? I've already checked the other groups
and she's not among them." Sharon couldn't believe her ears. 'Not sweet, dear Louise. Oh dear God, not
Louise.' She was a close friend of hers since coming to work for the retirement home 6 years ago and she
was the closest thing one could call family. Getting frantic, she panics. Without thinking, she sprints
towards the entrance and shouting through sobs to any of the firemen close by. Her plea for help seemingly
useless. "Please, somebody help me, Louise is still inside! Don't let her die!"

Immediately, the fire chief is in motion. Running to her side he halts her progression towards the burning
building and asks what she is talking about. In reply he says, "Ma'am, nobody can go in there. It's just too
hot… even with our suits. Nobody could survive that inferno."

"But you have to send somebody in, she's my friend." She cried.

"I'm sorry, ma’am, but..." Suddenly, they are knocked down with a whoosh of air. "What... was... that?"
the chief wondered after seeing what he thought was a faint blue form racing towards the building seventy
five feet away. "Must've been my imagination,” he thought.

Searching the area with his enhanced vision, John scours the area of the complex. Suddenly, the ceiling in
the main lobby begins to creak and give way, but he doesn't care. He needs to find the woman, Louise,
before it's too late. Hearing a moan in the direction of the kitchen, he finds there a small figure of a woman
lying partially in the opening of the walk-in freezer. Quickly, he rushes to her side taking the most direct
route possible, through tables, which are in his path and securely bolted to the floor. Flipping them aside as
if they were matchsticks, he reaches her tiny frame in a brief moment and checks her vital signs. "Great!
She’s still ok," he murmurs under his breath and giving a sigh of relief. "It's not your time to die, old
woman," he quietly says.

Thinking she heard someone's voice, Louise opens her eyes. As she briefly looks upon her rescuer, she
faints from a shocking sight. She saw not a fireman in rescue gear but a man in tights with nothing else
except a look of concern for her. Seeing that she will survive, he rushes out moments before the ceiling
collapses completely throughout the first floor in the building.

* * * * *

"Chief, who or what is that coming out?" the chief's most seasoned fighter asked in amazement.

"Whatever it is, Jake, it can't be human, that's for sure. No man could go in that mess and come out alive."

"Well, whatever it is, it's coming this way. Look! He has something. Why... it's the old woman," Jake said
flabbergasted, as John emerged with Louise in his arms and wrapped in his cape. As he is walking away
from the building, everyone not fighting the flames stand and stare at the sight before them --a tall
costumed man with a besmudged face.

Instead of gaping at the stranger like Jake was, Anthony O'Tool, Chief from fire station 17 meets the
stranger at the ambulance. John says pointedly, "The only thing I can detect with her is extreme smoke
inhalation. The cool air must’ve protected her… by being halfway in the walk-in freezer when I found her.
That must've been what kept her alive until I reached her," he said to the attendee, who was overwhelmed
by being this close to this strange man.

Chief O'Tool gathered up what remained of his failing courage and spoke to this tall stranger. "I... I would
like to thank you, sir, for... for helping us here." He stammered unconsciously for the first time in his life.
"Did... did you see anyone else inside?"

"No, I didn't. It was just this woman, Louise, here."

"How did you know here name was Louise?

"I heard that woman over there crying out for her before I got here." the stranger replied.

"But... that's impossible!" Chief O'Tool declared.

"Sir, nothing is impossible,"to which he stepped away from the ambulance and flew up and out of sight.

"Chief, hey Chief."

"Huh... what, Jake? What did you say?" he said in confusion, all while trying to see where this fellow had
flown off to.

"Who was that guy?" Jake inquired of his boss.

"I don't know, Jake." Trying to reason it out, he said. "You saw him, didn't you. He walked out of those
flames undamaged, and then he flew away. I mean he actually flew! But... that's impossible. Isn't it,
Jake?"

"I don't know what I saw, but I do know one thing. He's a Godsend, that's for sure."

"Amen to that." intoned the Chief.

Chapter 4

Turning on the TV in his new home, the Avenging Angel, a.k.a. John Davidson, began watching the
evening news. On nearly every station, there were stories of a mysterious being that flew off after coming
to the rescue of several instances that day. One person being interviewed, was saying in an animated voice,
"It's one of them, I tell ya, it really is. In flesh and blood. It was a real live superhero!"

"Sir," the female reporter was saying, "Whoever or whatever you saw could not possibly be what you
claim him to be. Those are just fictional characters, whereas the one doing all these impressive feats was
real, of flesh and bones."

"You weren't there, I was. How can you deny what I saw with my VERY OWN EYES!"

"Well folks, there you have it. Straight from the horses mouth. A real live flying superhero of some sort,
coming to our rescue. This is Global News Network for this evening. I'm Julie Edwards. Good night."

When the cameraman had turned off the video camera, she slumps in exhaustion against the news' van
looking at her co-worker. He has this 'I told you so' look, which always drives her crazy in times like these.
"Oh, shut up, you," she fumes and hands him the pick-up mike.

"What did I say now, Julie?"

"You didn't have to say anything," she says in sarcasm. "I know that look you gave me and what you must
be thinking."

Scott Tribidou, her cameraman says, "Who, me?" ever so innocently.

"Yes, you, dodo brain."

"Ah. Every time you call me that, my heart goes pitter-patter knowing how much you truly care about me,"
he said dreamily.

"Can it, lug head." Almost every day he does this to her. 'Why.' She asks herself, 'why does he do it. He
knows it drives me crazy.'

* * * * *
"Edwards, get in here, now!"

"Oh boy, here it comes," she says to Scott. "He doesn't sound too happy about something."

"Maybe you mispronounced a word or two while on the air."

"Oh, your real funny," she responds.

"Edwards..., NOW!" His voice reverberates the office walls and she cringes upon reaching for the knob.

"Um, did you want something, boss," she asks brightly with head poking around his office door.

"Get in here, you." he says tightlipped.

Just as she feared, 'Nope, this does not look good.'

"What is the meaning of this little stunk of yours on the air this evening?" Roger Filmore booms out at her.

"Well, sir," she stammers. "There were reports of some guy..."

"I know all about that!" he yells. "What I want to know is where were you and Scotty during all this
time, while this fly boy is performing all around town?"

"Oh," is all she can say.

"Is that all you can say is, 'oh'?" he demanded. "You're paid good money to catch ‘live action’ shots,
when it happens, not to do interviews after something has happened. That's why you are allowed to have
all that electronic gear and satellite linkup stuff in the van you are allowed to drive home ev...ery night."

"Sir, the van had a flat during that bank robbery this morning and… by the time Scott and I arrived, no one
was around. Then, there was too much traffic to get to the fire, which was 4 miles away. It was said that
some of the fire engines couldn't even get thru as they should have. The traffic was just too heavy. We
didn't even know about the DC plane that nearly collided with that 747, sir. I mean...”

"Alright, alright. I get the picture. I'm sorry for yelling at you like I did. Thought you were slacking like
last month." he quipped.

"But sir, last month wasn't my fault either," she pleads.

"Last month was too your fault, and we both know that to be the case. Don't we? Well, enough said about
this. I think you get the idea."

Relief washed over her tensed up body as she realized she was holding the chair arms too tightly, and that
she was off the hook --at least... this time anyhow.

"I want you to focus most of your attention on this fella that supposedly can fly. Keep your ears on all the
time, ya hear me, girl?" She translated it as his way of saying, 'keep the scanners going including the ones
in your apartment 24 hours a day from now on, or I may decide to find another reporter who can do the job,
Miss Edwards.' A definite warning to take serious.

Seeing her come out still alive but looking solemn instead of bristling as she often times will, Scott asks
her, "So, are we still a team or what?"

"Yeah, we're still a team, bozo."

"Oh, I love it when you use such language. Oooh." Shaking his upper body for effect was usually funny,
but not today.

"Come on Romeo, we've got work ahead of us, leaving little time to play." With this said, she pats him on
the arm in a tired way and walks off.
Chapter 5

"I told you to keep the spare tire in the van, but, noooo, you said we needed the extra space for equipment
and we wouldn't need it." Scott says in a mocking tone of voice.

"Oh, hush now. Just get it fixed, quick. I don't like being stuck in this neighborhood any longer than it is
necessary." Looking around anxiously, she smacks the side of her leg in an attempt to encourage Scott to
work faster.

An hour later, he is still favoring his sore thumb and scraped knuckles from the repair job while racing off
to another supposed citing of this flying man. The last lug nut holding the tire on was stubborn coming off
when the tire wrench decided to have fun by slipping off, causing his hand to crash into the wheel rim. All
because this woman sitting next to him was getting paranoid and just had to rush the repair job. Women!

* * * * *

Do you see him yet, Scott?" she says peering into the clear blue sky two days later at 11 in the morning.

"Yea, I see him alright, but I don't believe it."

"What don't you believe?" She asks.

"I'm looking at him with binoculars, right? Well, from this distance of about a mile, he shouldn't be able to
see me, right? Well, there he is staring right back at me, smiling no less, and... Uh, oh…!" he gasps
scurrying about trying to get down from the top of the van.

"What's 'uh, oh' suppose to mean Scott?" she hesitantly asks.

"He means, 'Uh, oh' I'm here," the stranger in tights says suddenly by her side.
"Whoa there mister. Don't ever do that to me again!" She yells.

"Sorry." He exclaimed meekly. "Didn't mean to scare you like that, ma'am."

"First off, don't call me 'ma'am'. That's for old women, and I'm not old or decrepit."

"That's for sure." The stranger says brightly. "And might I add, I'm glad I stopped by." Saying this made
him smile at her. Inside he's thinking, 'Man alive, John, she is one heck of a woman. Some guy will have
quite a catch should he nab her for his own. She's tall, athletic, and beautiful to boot. What a gal!'

Sneering up at him, she pauses, seeing that his eyes bore into hers with an intensity she never known
before. She suddenly feels very weak in the knees, vulnerable and shy. 'Nobody's been able to do that to
me before with just his eyes. Now, why would that be?' she wonders.

Continuing, he says to her, "Saw you were having a problem earlier with the tire and when you stopped
again, thought I would drop in and see if everything was alright. Are they? Besides, I wanted to know why
you two have been following me these past few days."

"No, we're ok, right now. Um, you know about our following you around?" she said in awe.

"Yesssss."

After an awkward moment lingered between the two news team, all while Scott just stands there at the front
of the van snickering at her discomfort, she speaks up. "So, mister. Who are you? Are you from around
here. Lastly, what are you doing wearing this silly outfit that belongs only on some lame actor in a short
lived TV series?"

"Oh, that's a good one. OK... let's just say I'm your Avenging Angel, as it were. I'm here to get justice
back on line and to rescue fair maidens in distress." This last part he says jokingly, knowing full well it
will set her off.

"How dare you!" Flaring brightly at him. "What right have you to say that to me? I can take care of
myself, thankyouverymuch!" she sputters.

He laughs wholeheartedly at the face she makes and from the tease, but stops abruptly as he hears a siren
off in the distance. Looking at her kindly, he says, "Duty calls. If you really want to know where I'm
headed off to, it's, oh, around 34th and Main Street I'd say. You can reach it by taking a short cut through
Elm and Broadway. From there, it's a clear shot to the scene."

"Yeah. Thanks mister," she says loudly as he zooms off for another rescue.

In a whoosh, he's gone. "Oh wow.... what a rush!" exclaimed Scott.

"Come on, space cadet. Let's move it!" As she too comes out of her own dreamy haze, she calls out while
climbing into the driver's seat and revving up the engine of the van.

Starting off before Scott can close the sliding door, he looses his balance and bumps his shoulder on the
equipment. "Hey, take it easy, will ya!" yelping like a wounded puppy.

"You heard him." She said excitedly and jumping around in her seat. "If we take Elm and Broadway, we
might be able to see him in action. That's only a few blocks away from here."

"Yea, but let's make sure we get there alive to do it."

"Oh, stop whining, will you," she says, sticking out her lower lip in a pouty fashion that adults do to
imitate little kids that sulk.

* * * * *

"Man, oh man! Is this good stuff or what, Scott!"

"That it is, Julie!" He says, with hurt in his voice that continues to linger from the reckless race to get there.

They both watch, along with fifty other spectators as the Avenging Angel goes into in action. There are ten
construction workers pulling pieces of plaster and concrete from the outer ridge of the collapsed building in
hopes of finding a live per person while he lifts mighty chunks of steel and concrete that was covering two
more people --one was a baby and the other, it's mother. Both are unconscious.

All of a sudden, someone lets out a blood-curdling scream as more beams fall from above directly over the
three people. "Hey stranger, watch out!" Quickly he spread-eagles over the two to protect them. The
sound of tortured metal is heard in an attempt to crush him. <Crash, crunch, screech.>

With sounds of anguish coming from the crowd as they witness this horrible sight, they see nothing
moving. As each one holds their breath with the hope that they are still alive, the dust begins to settle
and… they see the carnage of stressed and mangled I-beams heaped up where they were. The crowd
continues to strain their eyes to see any sign of life from the pile.

With their hope of a miracle waning, a faint sound of movement under the pile can be heard as I-beams
begin to shift aside. An arm appears, then the black hair of the blue clad stranger surfaces, followed by the
woman and her baby that is crying from sheer fright. The crowd roars with delight at the sight of the
survivors and rushes toward them.

Not one for taking the credit for doing what needed to get the job done, John goes back to scanning the
remaining debris for life signs. Noting where each one is, he quickly flies up to the second floor and
rapidly fastens an over hang around its perimeter just in case more beams decide to come crashing down,
causing more problems for those trapped.

As the last one is safely in the clear, the construction foreman is asked whether they were building it up or
tearing it down. "It's was suppose to come down, but I don't dare let any of my people go in there to do it
after this incident, what with its weakened state and all."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," this tall stranger says to him. "Just make sure everyone is safely out of
harms' way."

"No problem, mister." Using a megaphone, he yells, "Everyone, get way back... it's coming down."

With the grace and speed of a humming bird, the Avenging Angel carefully maneuvers within the structure,
that years ago, was a famous building in which people controlled the stock market, but after the second
major economic upheaval, the city closed it down. Its six stories that remained were carefully removed
piece by piece in fast motion with a blur of blue swirling around it. As the crowd watched in wonder, the
components were being neatly stacked according to their shape and size. Three hours later, it was
completely disassembled. Like he has in the past few days after helping others, he makes sure all are ok…
then zooms off into the air without a backward glance.
Chapter 6

Stepping outside on his way to the supermarket, John sees the van that Julie Edwards drives around the city
hurdling past him on yet another of her wild stories. Thankfully, he does not have to go to the site.

It's been almost four months since his debut. Now that things had simmer down a little, he needed to get
out as a regular guy. So with a need to buy food for the next week to come, he's on his way to the local
market.

* * * * *

"Excuse me, but could you reach that package of Lasagna for me."

"Yes, of course." John replies without turning to look at the one who asked the favor. Upon turning, he
realizes who it was that asked. There before him stood a woman of the average height of five foot six
inches, graceful build and beautiful eyes. Knowing full well who she is but not letting on that he did, he
hands her the package.

"Thank you. I don't know why they have to put these way up high for those who aren't tall enough to reach
them. That's inconsiderate of this store, don't you think?" she remarked then catching herself momentarily.
"You look familiar. Have we met somewhere before?"

"Um, I don't think so." He says brightly, but with his guard going up. 'Be careful John, don't blow it.'

"I have seen you before."

'Uh oh, here it comes,' he thinks.

"You're John Davidson, the writer, aren't you?"

With an inward sigh of relief, he says, "Yes, that's correct. I freelance. I'm abit surprised anyone even
makes out my face from the photos these publishers use nowadays. Why they insist on placing them on the
back covers is beyond me. I don’t even look like those photos, really."

"Oh, your pictures aren't that bad, really. It's just that that smile of yours is a little lopsided that’s all." She
countered good-naturedly. "I hear you recently moved to the San Diego area. Anyplace interesting?"

"It's that tan colored Colonial house near Mission Trails Regional Park --the one no one seemed to want."

"Oh... I've always wondered if anyone would buy that place. It was said that the owners were very picky in
who they sold it to. I suppose congratulations are in order then."

"Why, thank you," he said with as much modesty as he could muster; for he knew no one ever lived in it
since being built decades ago.

"Have you been around to see the sights or meet anyone since arriving?" Asking ever so coyly, hoping
against hope he hadn't had the chance to meet anyone or be committed to anyone. Stopping herself short,
she wonders why she hoped that just now. Normally, when it comes to personal relationships, she is very
inept. Just the contrary when it comes to doing her job.
"Actually," he whispered in a conspiratorial fashion, after looking this way then that way, "I haven't been
having the opportunity to do so, what with being caught up a whirlwind of activity my work demands of
me these past few months."

"Well, since we’re both grocery shopping and you are still fairly new in town, how about us having dinner
together... tonight... at your place?" Looking up into his dark steel-blue eyes, she nearly caught her breath.
'Where have I seen eyes like those before?’ she wonders.

"Sure, that sounds fine with me. How about six thirty? Is that ok with you?"

"That would be splendid." She purred.

* * * * *

Arriving at 6:30 on the dot, Julie finds a note attached to the front door. At first Julie began to think he
skipped out on her. Instead, the note read.

Julie,

Will be back in a few moments,

had an unexpected errand to run.

John

"Well, at least he didn't leave me wondering what happened," she said, musing at the message.

"Reading a love note from someone?"

Startled by the voice, she nearly dropped her bag of groceries. "Oh, it's you. When are you going to stop
sneaking up behind me?" she yelped angrily. Behind her was Scott. He had been following her to her
secret rendezvous and had snuck up from behind to scare her. "What are you doing here, anyhow?"

Ignoring her first question, he goes abruptly to the next one. "Thought I would check to see if you were
going to be alright in this area, at this time of the night. That's all."

"I'll be alright, don't you worry any. Now get out of here before you're spotted," she said drilling him
with her eyes before he decided to relinquish his position. 'How dare he follow her on a dinner date. The
nerve of the fella.'

Before his car rounded the corner, the front door started to open. Twirling around once again, she now
faced the one she doesn't mind looking at. "How did you get here without being seen?"

"Oh. Well, there's a rear entranceway to the house where the garage is located. I came in that way. Were
you waiting long?"

"No. As a matter of fact, I just got here."

"Well then, let's get started." He proposed.

Upon finishing the simple but filling meal, Julie speaks up. "That was delicious, John. Thank you for
inviting me over." Leaning back in the chair with contentment, she wipes her mouth with the ornate napkin
then taking note of it's design.
"Well, actually it was you who did the inviting, but that’s ok. If it weren't for the pasta sauce you brought,
it would not have tasted as good." He countered.

"True." She says lightheartedly. "So. What do you have in mind for an encore?" Hoping for a little
flirtatious activity but not daring to bring it up herself.

"Do you like videos? I have quite a collection that tends to spark my imagination while writing stories."

"You do? I never knew of any writer who did such a thing. That's interesting."

"Would you like to see them?"

"Sure."

Upon entering his study/writing room, her eyes bugged from the scene. There were two 6x12 foot walls
from top to bottom, displaying nothing but videos --all in categorical order.

"This is too much!" She exclaimed. "What did you do, clear out a video shop?"

"No, not exactly." He chuckles. "I have a contract with some major producers to evaluate their completed
works. In return, they allow me to keep the discs, along with receiving a modest fee, of course."

"I'll bet you do," she said with admiration.

"So, what types of movies do you care for?"

Walking over to the Science fiction-fantasy-romance section, she gives a noticeable start, as if caught off
guard, and says demurely, "I like the ones where the hero comes away with the fair maiden." Nearly
choking on the last few words, she almost ruined the mood she was trying to create with him. For some
bizarre reason, what she just said and the feeling she was having, reminded her so much of that encounter
she had a few months ago with that blue clad flying man and what he had said to her.

"Well, there is a list that is automatically updated for each section if you wish to review it before deciding."
All of a sudden a beeping noise is heard and he reaches down to the beeper at his waist then excuses
himself for a private phone call.

Quickly he removes his outerwear and zooms out the back door to an emergency across town. It was a
good thing he took the governor's offer of having that special beeper to summon him should there be an
incident requiring his immediate help.

As he flew overhead, he noticed the problem. The drawbridge had stopped ten feet up. Instead of
stopping, the person driving the car had continued to race onward hoping to cross over in order to elude the
police. At the last second, the car was snagged on the edge of the seam where the two halves meet, holding
the car in place. If it were just the criminals involved the authorities would not have bothered to summon
the Avenging Angel, but inside the car was a little boy they had dragged away from the convenience store
as their insurance of a safe get-away. The car was now teetering dangerously close to slipping over the
edge. With all the jostling in the car due to the men arguing over their lousy luck, the car decided to go
over the edge while its passengers screamed. They continued to scream as it fell twenty feet when abruptly
it was caught gently in mid-air and lifted up over the embankment to the spot where the authorities stood
watching.

The words, "You in the car, throw out your weapons and come out one at a time," was the last thing John
heard while flying back home and to his evening guest.

"That must've been a one sided conversation, coz I didn't hear a word from your end." Julie stated as he re-
entered the study/writing room.
"You wouldn't have heard a word no matter how loud I spoke. The walls were sound proofed after
acquiring this place." He said. "I prefer my privacy in the few areas there is in my life. One could scream
at the top of their lungs without being heard from within, or from outdoors."

"Is that so," she says in a husky low voice and with half closed lids. "I think I found the one to watch."
Handing him a double disc pack labeled, 'The Charmed Life', she moves to the viewing couch.

"Um... Are you sure you want to watch this one?" He asks nervously, not remembering all of it but just
enough to know that it had a few really sentimental/steamy scenes that almost always caused people to
want to be with another.

She insistently declares, "Definitely!"

As the second disc was being activated Julie began edging as close to John as she possibly could without
being too forward. She was going to force him to make a move on her. If he didn't soon, she was.

Not able to take his being a gentleman any longer and rejecting the feelings she was experiencing while in
his presence, she turned to him and whispered in his ear, "If you don't make love to me this very moment,
I'm gonna go out of my mind."

Staring at her in surprise, he told her that he enjoyed her company very much, but to do something like that
would ruin something beautiful they had going.

"Well, at least hold me so I don't feel so alone. Please?" She murmured in a little girl's voice.

Hearing her plea and seeing the look on her face, he decides that that would be acceptable. That evening,
they watched two more double length movies of a more lighter note. With Julie resting in his powerful
arms while dozing off after the last movie was seen, he beholds the gentle beauty she possesses. By now it
is early morning with the sun just coming up over the horizon. Suddenly, she jerks wide awake and stares
up into his steel-blue eyes. With a demure "Good morning," she slips out of his arms and freshens up in the
hall rest room. Returning slowly, she thanks him for the grand evening they had and asks if they can do it
again sometime. He eagerly agrees.
Chapter 7

As she pulled into her parking slot at work a few hours later with a natural high, she was hoping to do a file
check on a recent story before starting out on the road. Instead, she was intercepted by her cameraman,
Scott, before she could reach the garage elevator alone.

"So, how was your dinner date with Mr. Davidson?" Scott asked innocently as they rode up together to the
eight floor.

Trying to hide a smile but failing miserably, she explained that he was quite an entertaining gentleman with
a love for the arts.

"Yeah, I bet he does."

"Get your mind of the gutter, why don't you. I don't give in to any man no matter what you might think."
She exploded unexpectedly. "So what if he is charming and... and... irresistible! What kind of girl do you
think I am, or take me for?" She tried to hide these very thoughts and her embarrassment of wanting John
last night, her guilt was triggered all too easily by Scott.

"Take it easy, lass. I was just wondering, that's all." Saying this, he backs up to the far wall with hands up
in defense. "I was just curious, nothing more. I know the mood you were in, especially after meeting this
fellow at that grocery store you stopped at. You meet him, then suddenly you're seeing him that same day.
Well… it caused me to wonder about your safety and vulnerability. Lonely people can sometimes do
crazy things unexpectedly, ya know."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she admitted peakedly. "I'm sorry for tearing your head off like that."

"So. Why are you here so early and bright eyed? Inquiring minds want to know."

"There's a few things I want to check on before heading out on the road. Any objections?" Seeing none
coming forth from him, see walks out of the elevator to the reference center on their floor.

Several months later...

"Edwards… Tribidou," Roger Filmore, their boss shouts from his office door opening, "get your butts in
gear. There's a terrorist at the Rocketfeller building claiming to blow it, himself, and 26 hostages up if his
demands aren't met in one hour."

* * * * *
One small man is shouting at the top of his lungs from the twelfth story. After arriving at the scene, Julie
and Scott clamor through the crowd for a vantage point to capture the action undisturbed. Not seeing a
good place to set up, she spots an unlocked door and motions Scott to follow. Sneaking in the back
entranceway, Scott begins to complain about the possibility of getting caught.

"Scott, don't you have the guts for this anymore? Where's your thrill for adventure?"

Bending over trying to catch his breath from all the running they've done so far, he looks up, stops dead
cold, and says stony faced, "I'm... afraid I just lost it."

"What are you talking about?" making a face and being exasperated with him in a time like this.

"He means, my dear, 'he just lost it'. Someone says behind her as he mimics Scott's own words.

As she whirls around, he cuts her short by barking out, "Don't!" and emphasizing it by pointing a menacing
automatic in her face.

* * * * *

The Avenging Angel, a.k.a. John Davidson is walking down 133rd street when he over hears a commotion
coming from the next block up ahead. Hurriedly, he makes his way there as a normal pedestrian would
upon hearing such a disturbance. Making sense of all the commotion, he scans the building in hopes of
detecting the bomb the terrorist claims to have rigged to go off in 45 minutes.

Finally he sees it and almost forgetting where he is, he nearly leaps into the air with his civilian clothes on
--in front of everyone no less. Looking around frantically, an empty alley is spotted and he races down far
enough not to be noticed. Seconds later, in a blur and a whoosh, he does a low flyby just above the crowd
to the portico on the building at the twelfth floor closest to the site of the bomb. To his surprise, there is an
electrical forcefield that prevents his being able to deactivate the bomb. Touching it causes his fingers to
go prickly numb. "There has got to be a way to get to it." He mumbles.

"What's the matter blue-boy?" A haughty but whiny voice behind him says. "Is there a problem?"
Twirling around, he stops in mid-step as he sees what is in this man's possession. A multi-switch
detonator... and a terrified Julie Edwards. “Careful! We don’t want any accidents. Now do we?”

"What do you want with the girl?" This powerful man asks of the tiny, but arrogant man, trying desperately
to sound neutral --though his heart is racing. "What does she have to do with this? Let her go." He
commands.

"Awhhhh, what's the matter?" turning, he says to the other hostages which had been tied up and sitting
against the far wall. "Looky here folks, the flying wonder has a heart of putty when it comes to pretty
women in danger?"

"Just let her go, or you'll be sorry."

"Ohhh, 'I'll be sorry,' he says. I doubt that."

Stepping forward ever so slowly to get within proximity of both the girl and the detonator without being a
threat to the man, he stops as the terrorist pantomimes flipping a switch if he came any closer.

"Don't try it big boy. All I want is the money I asked for and a safe getaway, so don't endanger these
wonderful people with your heroics."

Seeing the look of concern on his face for her and the others, Julie’s mind races through a collection of
similar faces who possessed such a look in those eyes. 'Where have I seen that look before.' This very
morning there were several things she wanted to check out that seem to be troubling her dreams as of late.
'If you get thru this Julie, you are gonna have to check out a few more things, even if taking a vacation
from work is necessary to get it taken care of, you will do it.' Her future planning schedule is broken by
the forceful way in which the one in blue tights just said, 'let her go,' for the third time.

'You can't hurt me while I have this girl and this detonator, and we both know it." He speaks as though he
believes he has the upper hand in this show of force.

"I see you leave me no other choice."

The little man intones. "You're finally seeing the light, fly-boy. That’s good. It's about time you did too,
because we only have ten more minutes to go before we all...”

Before the arrogant little man utters his last few words, he sees the strangest look on the suited man's face.
All of a sudden he screams in utter pain and watches in horror as the detonator is being melted. At this
time, the girl breaks free of his grasp and falls to the ground out of harm's way. The material of the
detonator's casing & its internal components dissolves and spreads all over his hand. Sparks and crackling
noises erupt from the electronic components that were once fuses, condensers, resistors, along with a
miniature atomic power pack.

Looking up in disbelief, he screeches out a protest to this freak in tights that stands in front of him before
he collapses in a sobbing heap of despair. All his plans have been ruined by this... this... THING coming
towards him. "Stay away from me you freak! Don't you touch me!" he shrieked. "Stay away!!!"

Walking up to a few feet of him, the costumed man quietly says to the shriveling, curled up man, "I said
you'd be sorry if you didn't let her go."

Just then, as always, the police show up --looking just as dumbfounded at the scene. Checking the bomb
for any signs of activity but finding it was deactivated when the detonator was melted, they turn to the man
in blue for questioning. After informing the authorities of what had transpired, the man in tights walk over
to the girl named Julie seeking her welfare. "Are you going to be alright?"
Looking up into his strong face with fear and wonder, she nods affirmation. Before he is able to fly away,
she grabs his powerful arm and implores, "Who are you? What are you?"

"I'm just a man who wants to help those in need," was his only answer.

"It looks as though your going to need help yourself. Look at your fingers." At this he did and notices
they all have burn marks on the finger tips and turning blackish as a result of trying to grab the bomb with
his bare hands. As she touches them, it produces a tingling/numbing effect as pain shoots up his arms.
Seeing his discomfort, she apologizes immensely.

"Don't worry, I'll be ok." And with that he flies off.

Chapter 8

"Well Mr. Davidson, it appears that you have somehow burnt the tips of your fingers but royally. The
only way I can think of one could do that is by coming in contact with a large dosage of electricity.
Frankly, son, I'm surprised you're still alive, if that was the case." After obtaining other vital information
on his patient, the old man says, "You'll be ok in a few days. Just remember to apply this salve liberally
twice daily and keep those fingers bandaged as much as possible until the redness goes away. Otherwise,
the nerve endings might not heal properly."

"Thank you Dr. Brickman." John says.

"I'll want to see you in five days to check it's progress, but, I doubt there is much I can do for you at this
stage," says Doctor Brickman.

"I will doctor. Thank you."

* * * * *

"But John, I thought we had a date tonight," wailed Julie. "Just because the frying pan fell off the stove
and caused you severe burns doesn't mean we can't see each other. Does it?"

"I suppose not," sighed John over the speaker phone.

Hearing him sigh like that caused her to think fast. Since that is what she does best under moments of
stress, she suggests that they go out for pizza and that she would feed him every bite he takes. Afterwards,
she'll treat him to a moonlit carriage ride.

He says that he'll have to think about the carriage ride, but the pizza thing sounded like a good idea. It was
4pm already and she won't get off until 7 tonight she said, so there were still some time between now and
the date to have some gloves made in case he had to go off on a rescue. He had to keep those fingers
protected at all cost. That's when he remembered what the visitors that were responsible for his
transformation had said about the Monitor up in the moon's orbit. It was out there for him to use as needed.
'Why don't I go to it and see if some gloves can be made or if my fingers can be healed. The one named
Core said there was a regeneration device onboard. It couldn't hurt to try it out.' So with that decided, he
locates his equipment and hooks onto a utility belt the device he would need to be detected & allowed on
board the Monitor. Affixing his transporter device to his waist, he activates it and is suddenly transported to
the Monitor.

Looking about the station, John get the scare of his life. <Welcome, savior of planet Earth> the
disembodied voice echoed. It did not sound anything like a normal echo would as sound would if
ricocheting down the metallic, oblong room. It was filled with unheard of devices & undreamed of
technology. Instead, it had a warm solid sound to it. <How may I help you>

Uncertainty crept into his voice as he looked everywhere trying to find the source of the voice. Gulping a
few times he says, "Um... I... um... my fingers and the nerve endings were damaged by a high voltage force
field today. Can you help me?"

<Follow the glowing sphere until it stops and changes shape>

When the glowing orb materializes, he follows its lead until he comes to a console. Without preamble, a
low lying table emerges from the wall. <Lay down please>

After getting comfortable, a pair of laser beams come alive and scan his whole body, one blue and another
one red, starting at his head and slowly moving downward to the feet in a crisscrossing fashion. Feeling
nothing out of the ordinary as the lights rove over his frame, he thinks, 'this is almost like a massage, I
could learn to like this... alot.'

When the warm lasers blink off. He is instructed to follow the glowing sphere once again to another
station.

After receiving answers to several of his questions, John asks, "What do they call you?"

<I am called Monitor> a pause <If there is a more desirable name you wish to address me by, you may>

"Hmm. How about I call you Max?"

<Max, it is then> <You are healed, and you must go now, for you are needed by your planet in the area
zone where you live>

"Thank you, and... 'I'll Be Back'."

<GO>
Chapter 9

"Here he comes Chief!" A fireman who has kept his eyes peeled to the sky hoping the man in the funny suit
would arrive in time, shouted the warning.

As the costumed stranger lands, the fire chief says, "Man, am I glad you're here. We have a fire on the
30th floor that contains paint and other highly flammable items. They were being used in redecorating
some of the offices up there. The only thing is, we don't have anything that can reach that far up and the
stairs have collapsed just out of reach of our ladders. All power including backup power for the
emergency lift is out. To top it all off, there was a party going on up there with over 36 people on the 33rd
floor, but we don't know where they all are."

Sensing the chief’s desperation, he leaps up and into the sky towards the 30th floor and nearly reached the
right one when a series of small explosions occurred. Rushing in though the flames, he finds that each
office and hall is filled with smoke. As he is putting out the flames and clearing the air, he thinks he is
nearly done. 'One more room to search, then I can go home and get ready to relax with Julie.' Just then the
room he was about to enter exploded outward catching him with the full force of the mighty explosion.
Being dazed, he slowly gets up from the floor and goes about putting out the flames and checking for the
building's structure & integrity. With that checking out fine, he travels up the three flights of stairs to check
on those at the party up above. No one was hurt thankfully. Then after a brief period of silence, one
woman spoke up mentioning that a couple saying something about leaving early. Since they didn't appear
to be anywhere in the suite where the party was going on, they figured they must've left. Leaving to check
the way they thought the couple always went while leaving the office suite on that floor, he scouts out the
area tossing aside rubble from fallen debris.

Hearing the scuffling and moving debris up above, a man yells frantically. "Hello? Is somebody there?“

“Help us, please. Somebody, please help us!"

"I see you, hold on." From down below in a collapsed stairwell, a man and woman were hanging from the
few remaining handrails that refused to give way. Floating down to where they were, he grabs hold of the
woman who has collapsed and flies out of the building to the ambulances then immediately returns to the
site to... to an empty stairwell. 'Where is he?' he wonders. Looking about frantically, he can't find him.
"Hello? Mister... can you hear me?" With fragments of the building falling down from above, he
continues to search the area where he last saw the man and woman together. "Is anyone down here?"

The sound of stressed metal and cracking plaster produces an abrupt cry further down than he expected. "I
see you. Stay put, I'm coming for you."

"Hurry! I don't think this beam will hold much..."

As the dangling man says that, the beam bends and the man starts his dangerous plummet to the bottom of
the ruined stairwell. Before he has descended 4 floors, he sees a blur coming towards him and suddenly his
descent has halted and is now being lowered to safety. "Where did you come from?"

"From up there."

* * * * *

Arriving at Julios' Pizza Parlor, they find a quiet corner and order their specialty of black olives, onions,
pineapple and mushrooms on a large pan pizza.

Holding hands, she notices that his fingers are alright causing her to blurt out as she pulls away from him,
"I thought you said you burnt yourself this morning with the frying pan?"
"They were. I guess Dr. Brickman's ointment worked faster than he assumed it would."

"That'll be a first." she scowled at him. "He has been known to dabble in unorthodox methods for as long
as I can remember."

"How do you know that?" he asked, intrigued by her newest bit of information that she seems never to run
short of.

"He was the doctor who delivered me... he has also done many horrific experiments on me that produces
quirks at unexpected moments." she replied, first being real serious then finishing the sentence in an
imitation of Igor with a slobbering tongue hanging out of her mouth with eyes crossed in such a gruesome,
yet comical way.

"Have you ever seen another physician about this distinctive problem you seem to display? By the way, do
you have these quirks often?" John asks with a somewhat serious look on his face.

"Oh you," she declares.

And, as if fate would have it, they find themselves looking into each other's eyes and holding hands once
more. Suddenly she gives a start as inspiration clicks in. Eyes wide with surprise she blurts out, "You're
him!"

Good naturedly he asks her, "I'm who?"

"You're HIMMMM." Seeing a blank face on him, she continues. "You know... the one who flies around.
The Avenging Angel. That’s who."

"Do I look like someone who could fly and rip steel apart --someone who burns their fingers on a hot
skillet and be healed in a short period of time? I don't think so!"

"That's another thing. The same day this fella burns his fingers on that nasty force field, your accident in
the kitchen occurs. Coincidence? I don't think, buster."

"Oh... I get it. This has got to be a joke you and Scott came up with. Right?" He snorts in amusement then
stops when he sees she's not joking, but having a queer expression on her beautiful face. Looking around
nervously, he expects others to join in on the gag. Thankfully nobody has noticed a thing she said --they're
oblivious to the young couple.

Leaning forward with her head cocked to an inquiring angle she asks, "How... how do you know what his
name is?"

"Hmm? Oh... well you must've let it slip without realizing it a couple of months back after we met," he
replied weakly.

"Uh, uh. I never mentioned his name to you before. I know darn well the network don't mention his name
in the cast and credits in connection with mine, because he threw a royal fit about that a month ago." She
said. "So, I AM right after all, aren't I?"

Making a somewhat rude sound with his mouth he says, "Yeah, right." Sobering up quickly, he counters
with, "Do you realize what you're saying?" He leans across the table towards her with an intense look on
his face.

Not intimidated with that look she has seen him do with others, she continues. "Yes. I couldn't put my
finger on it, but when you looked at me at the site with that terrorist, I KNEW there was something odd
about the two of you, which seemed all too familiar. So afterwards, I checked out a few things and
wracked my brain trying to make all the pieces fit, but it didn't hit me until just now when we looked into
each other's eyes. You both had that aching desire to hold me during a critical moment like this."

Leaning back in his booth's seat in a defeated slouch and focusing on the table to keeping from having to
look up at her, he nods his head and says, "Yeah, I'm the guy alright." Snapping his head up he bore right
into her eyes saying, "You mustn't tell ANYONE of my identity. It would be too dangerous. For YOU…
For ME." Imploring her with his eyes, he allows silence to enforce what he just said.

‘Yes, there was those selfsame heartbreaking steel-grey eyes again that she saw on that fateful morning.
He loves me and doesn't want to loose me.' Swallowing hard to push the lump that accumulated in her
throat down, she just looks at him.

"Marry me!" He blurts out.

"Excuse me?" She says in a stunned, shocked voice.

"WILL... YOU... MAR-RY... ME?" He repeats in an exaggerated, drawn-out way.

Thinking about all that has happened in the past months, and the many encounters with this incredible man,
she doesn’t waste time and replies sweetly, "Yes... I will."

"You... you will?"

"I'd love to be married to one that has a heart such as yours. I love you even though sometimes I am scared
to death of the incredible powers you have displayed. Beside, nearly every waking moment, I find myself
thinking of you... even while on the job, which is quite distracting really. Why not make it better by totally
completing our relationship?"

"Can't argue with that line of reasoning. Besides, I feel the same way about you. Every time I look at you,
I experience contentment that fills every square inch of my being. Every time we part company, it leaves
me wanting more of you the next time."

"I never thought you to be such a romantic?" she says glossy eyed.

"That's the best part of a relationship. Learning more of one another and enjoying those moments we share
together."

"How about this Friday?"

"For what?" he asks stupidly.

"'For what?' Why, to get married silly."

"Ok. Sure. I just didn't think you wanted to rush it, what with all the planning is required and all, and with
Friday being only five days away."

"Don't worry about the wedding plans. I know someone who can whip up a grand program with little effort
and still have it turn out a success."

"I leave it in your capable hands then, Julie."

Just then the waiter brings over their pizza, which they consume with gusto and in no time flat. Not wanting
to stay there, they stroll through Balboa Park… watching the yachts cruising along in the harbor off in the
distance with their running lights glowing in the mist.
Chapter 10

As people were continually congratulating the newlyweds of being the perfect couple and wishes of
goodwill, his beeper once again goes off. "Sorry folks, but I have urgent business to attend to. Please
excuse me."

Before leaving the room, he could hear one of the ladies declare to Julie, "Girl, if you think that your
husband ought to be able to take off on some errand whenever some friend calls, especially on his wedding
day, how sure are you of his dependability in other areas?"

Looking in his direction, she smiles as she notices his look of amusement, knowing that he too heard the
woman speak. Thinking back to the first day they met, she realizes that he has always done that, and
coming back to the conversation, she says, "He was always a bit flighty at first, you know, taking off when
you least expect it and then popping back in the same way." But she knew he would always return in no
time at all. Under her breath, she says, "Go my love." With that, he silently slinks from the room to
change out of his tux and into his suit, which he had refused to wear beneath.

Twenty minutes later, he was back in his tux and carrying out his expected role of honored guest and
groom. Coming out of his study/writing room looking none the worse for wear from his little adventure out
at sea, a guest confronts him. "So John, I hear from Julie that you’re a freelance writer AND part-time
movie critic." The man was Roger Filmore, Julie's boss.

"Yes sir, that's correct. Whenever producers have a new release, they send me a special edition of their
movie, which I review then tell them what I think of it. As a result,” he humbly admits. “I get to keep the
disc AND receive a modest fee."

"Well, the reason I mentioned this is I have been looking for an individual such as yourself for similar
work, as needed of course. Would you be interested?" He asks.

"Well, I suppose I could squeeze you in from time to time as needed. We'll see how it goes, alright sir?"

Julie walks up to the two men and asks jokingly, "What's going on here? You're not trying to get your meat
hooks into him too, are you boss?"

"No, no. Just asking him for his perspective on something."

"Well, whatever it is he's offering you John, be VERY careful to take him up on it. He's sneaky as a
snake." Squinching up her nose and making a funny face at him for effect made her boss chuckle. Moving
outdoors to the snack bar, she asked, "Was he really offering you a job proposition, or just asking for
advice like he said?" Seeing the affirmative response reaction in his eyes as they always did almost in an
involuntary way whenever he was put on the spot, she cursed ever so lightly. So as not to startle the others
near them, "I never gave a definite answer to him, so it's not like I threw my whole career down the drain
by saying, 'we'll see'. Don't worry." To the way he said it, she brightened up dramatically. Satisfied with
her change of mood, he says, "Now, shall we participate in the festivities, wife?"

"Most assuredly, husband." She returned in like manner as they melodramatically walk back inside, hand
in hand, to where their other guests were milling about for the few remaining hours of their reception.

His decision to marry her was made sure after the look on her face when he first disclosed his double
identity in the pizza shop. Bringing her into his confidence was the best thing he ever did... for a myriad of
reasons. He disliked having to make up excuses for sudden disappearances while spending time together.
Now that they were married, there would no longer be any need to keep secrets from her. No more.

Hours after all guests had left and they return from his treating her to a touring experience she'll never
forget, they consummate their wedding vows in the privacy of their home --the way true love allows.
Chapter 11

"No John, please, not that one again. You're killing me. Stop." She has a hard time containing her
laughter as he spins around the large spare room that was set aside as their room for recreation. Stopping
periodically and striking another goofy pose with a silly look on his face, she once more splits open with
peels of uproarious laughter. By the time he finally floats down by her side and gathers her up into his
arms, she is crying & laughing all at the same time.

"Oh, you're so horrible. Don't you ever stop, my love."

“Don’t worry, I won’t… EVER.”

Bringing her joy and happiness has always been his ambition since they married two years ago to this very
day. Since then, it has been a roller coaster ride of thrills and sorrows, but they would never have given it
up if they had to do it all over again.

One of those unpleasant times occurred when an unstable scientist discovered the Avenging Angel's true
identity by accident. He had for several months been wondering where this extraordinary man hid himself,
and as he was resting momentarily from his walk thru Mission Trails Regional Park one day, he was
thinking of the various possibilities. As he was doing so, the Davidsons passed by as they trudged along
toward their home, totally engrossed in their conversation and not realizing he was sitting on the bench, nor
knowing who he was.

Not wanting to tell her of the planned meeting but holding off all week long, she was a little agitated upon
learning about it just then. This scheduled conference meeting with the world leaders was done in secret
and with his having to fly off to a location where even she wasn't allowed to know, irritated and worried her
to no end. That was the same night when they had previously planned to spend that time alone together and
where she would have him all to herself for a change. Hearing this caused the scientist to follow behind
them at a discreet distance unnoticed and where he could snoop around the outside of their home after they
entered through the front door. Unable to hear anything from within, he waited for the situation to develop
that would allow him to formulate a plan of action. That's when he heard and saw the Avenging Angel exit
the home in flight a few moments later to meet with the conference leaders.

Thinking he could barter a deal with her life, he kidnapped her for ransom. Although he got his money,
little did he know, it was laced with a traceable irradiated solution that the great avenger of truth could
follow once the prisoner was released.

He is now in an insane asylum with a mind that is deteriorating fast. That was the nature of coming into
contact with the solution --it left the contaminated perpetrator's brain somewhat like cold mush. It was
some real nasty stuff, but then again... nobody messes with this man called The Avenging Angel.

The End