298 Juez St., Elmond

Don groaned when his alarm started buzzing in his ear. He reached up and slammed his hand down on the alarm. It didn't stop. Grunting in annoyance, he propped himself up on one elbow and glared blearily at the red digital display. He gave the buttons another annoyed tap and this time the clock silenced itself. Don's entire body was sore, he felt as if he been in a fight. Then he remembered that he had been.

Moaning and groaning he sat up all the way and slipped on a pair of house shoes. He rubbed his eyes and then tussled his hair. He had never been much of a morning person. He stretched his arms and cracked his back. He stood up and went over to his thin vanity mirror. He turned his shirtless back to the mirror and looked. There was no evidence of the knife slash he had received in the brawl yesterday.

He went across the room and opened his double-door closet. He fished out a plain white T and slid it on, next came pajama bottoms and a pair of socks. By the time he left his room and went to the family bathroom he had finally begun to wake in earnest. He rattled the handle to the bathroom. Someone else was already in there.

"Come on, Hank," Don croaked. "I have to piss like a race horse."

"Should have run like one then, bro," Hank laughed inside. Don heard Hank clink something against the bathroom counter, he sighed, it would probably be another twenty minutes before he was going to be able to get in the bathroom.

Don turned in defeat and headed down to the dining room. His father sat at the table, carefully reading the newspaper. Don could hear the news going on in the background as he took a seat for himself. His father had a bowl of bran flakes in front of him with an empty spoon in his hand. He didn't say a word when Don entered.

"Local police are baffled for clues today as they investigate the robbery of local millionaire Westin Brooks' apartment," a reporter declared on channel 4 morning news. "The robbery apparently happened sometime last night, after mister Brooks had retired for the night. What has police baffled is that despite extremely tight security in the well-known "Crown Estates" high-rise apartment building the burglar didn't trip any alarms and wasn't caught on any of the hundreds of security cameras."

"Are you heading back to work tomorrow?" Don asked.

"I haven't decided yet," his father told him without taking his eyes from the paper. "Why haven't you showered yet?"

"Wow," Don sniffed his white T. "How could you tell without even looking at me? Do I small that bad?"

"Yes," his father deadpanned. "Now, why haven't you showered?"

"Hank's hogging the bathroom again, as usual," Don answered.

"Hank!" their father shouted.

"I'm out already!" they heard Hank shout back, as he tried to stealthily close the bathroom door behind himself.

Don stood up to race to the bathroom. "What are your plans for the day?" his father's question made him pause mid-step.

"Actually," Don stopped himself. "I was hoping I could go and just hang out with Mark, I'm tired of sitting at home."

"Try to make sure your brother gets out today too," Irwin Hall instructed. "It does him no good to sit at home moping with me."

"Okay, dad," Don said aloud. Under his breath he whispered something more. "Hank's been doing anything but moping."

"The Birds and the Cat"

Part 1: New Cat in Town

By T. L. Veselka

Downtown Elmond, five hours earlier

The Crown Estates had long been the place for the elite of Elmond to live and enjoy themselves without being bothered by the pesky outside world. These apartments didn't belong to the richest people in the state, though the general attitude of the residents belied that. It was the tallest building in all of Elmond at fifteen stories tall.

One of the reasons that the millionaires of Elmond felt so secure in their hideaway in downtown Elmond was the security cameras. There were exactly one hundred cameras placed throughout not only the grounds and parking lot but also inside of the building itself. Another reason was the well-staffed security with a minimum of two guards on duty at any given time with more usually on call ready to come if called.

The staff had thorough background checks, if you wanted a job at Crown Estates you might as well be working for government security with all of the requirements needed to obtain a position. The residents, being the local stars, were usually up at all hours of the night, but parties were kept within local residents and a few others. General members of the public weren't allowed on the lot and even public services had to go through a thorough security screening. Emergency services were the only exception.

Despite all of the extra security measures someone was at the perimeter fence, looking in. The man was dressed entirely in black and even had gone through the trouble of painting his face black, though it was covered in a ski mask. Various tools and pouches were sewn onto his strange all black outfit, and his hands, holding onto the fence, were covered in black leather gloves.

The fence had triangular bars only five inches apart that made it harder to enter than to exit the fence. The man crouched low and stuck his head in-between two bars. At first anyone would have laughed at the thought of the man sliding through the fence. Then, with a little wriggle the man's head slowly began to press through the angular bars.

Slowly his head passed through the bars until it was his neck that was between them and his head passed to the other side. The man sidled into position again, forcing his torso sideways so that his shoulders were parallel to the bars. He slowly began to push through the bars and as if by miracle inch by inch his body passed through until his buttocks stopped him from sliding through any further.

The man blew out all of the air in his body and with a quick thrust and a grunt his buttocks were through, the rest was easy. He reached back through the fence and retrieved a small black bag, turning he ran towards the apartments. As he ran he zigged and zagged in a strange pattern that no one would have recognized, but the cameras surveying the grounds never even caught a glimpse of him.

Crowne Estates, Elmond

Being one of the star college football players had its perks, especially in Elmond. By noon Hank had heard about a hundred times about how Westin Brooks had burglarized. He smiled as he approached Crowne Estates with a fellow player, Fernando Jimenez, in his yellow Mustang. Fernando lived here with his rich girlfriend, her parents paid for everything.

"Man, with security like this I am shocked they didn't catch the robber on camera for even a single frame," Hank commented as they stopped at the guardhouse. "How do you think he did it?"

"Man, I don't got any idea," Fernando shrugged and drove through the gate as security permitted him through.

Hank had sought out Fernando earlier that day after hearing that Crowne Estates had been burglarized. Fernando didn't really care about the robbery though, he probably figured it was a onetime thing, Hank hoped it wasn't.

"You're sure Westin lives on the eighth floor?"

"Yeah man," Fernando's voice was getting irritated. "Since when did you and your brother decide to become the Hardy Boys?"

"My brother?"

"Yeah he was playing twenty questions about the robbery, just like you." Fernando parked at his saved space.

Hank tried not to look suspicious as they exited the car and he glanced around for cameras and other security measures, after all he was going to have to know how to avoid them too. He was coming back tonight to find this burglar.

Later that night . . .

Hank stalked along the security fence. He had wanted Don to join him but his brother had already gone out for the evening by the time Hank had gotten home from Fernando's. He didn't know why he always felt better when his brother was nearby. He had always thought of Don as an annoyance but ever since their mother had been killed Hank hated to be far from his father or his brother.

He was getting close to the corner of the property, if he turned to the front it would greatly increase his chances of getting caught by security. He glanced around, no one was nearby, and all he could hear were crickets chirping.

"Hawk!" He called out as quietly as he could.

With a flash of light Hank changed into Hawk, his muscles expanding, his bones strengthening. If he turned into the Hawk then trouble must be present. It had to be the burglar. Breathing a quick prayer under his breath Hank leaped and somersaulted over the fence. He landed on the other side with an exhalation of relief, he hadn't been sure could do that.

Usually there were several parties going on every night but tonight the tower stood dark and silent, a grim visage waiting for trouble that was sure to come. Hank realized there was no way for him to avoid being seen, at least he had already been able to turn into Hawk. He rushed toward the building, searching out the best cover he could in the dimly lit garden lawn.

"Alright, burglar," Hank whispered to himself as he drew near the fancy apartments. "What are you searching for?"

Hank approached the building and psyched himself up, breathing deeply in and out, bouncing on his restless legs. He was going try something else he had never done before tonight. He placed his hands against the wall, they were more sensitive to touch than they had ever been even through his scarlet gloves. He found small almost insignificant crevices to jam them against and using his greater strength he began to scale the outside wall of the tower.

Apartment 52

The apartment was dark but it was far from silent. The crashing of glass and clattering of paraphernalia falling to the floor rattled the otherwise still air. A single beam of light, emitted from a small flashlight, traced a path over drawers and paintings, anything that could be of value.

Holding the flashlight was a man dressed all in black with a black hood that covered all but his yellow eyes and grinning mouth. He shoved anything in his way aside, littering the floor with broken memorabilia. He found some random cash and pocketed before moving on to the paintings, tearing them off the wall. He was so busy ransacking the place he didn't notice a window behind him slowly open.

In a flash of crimson and white Hawk collided with the man in black. Hank struggled to get a grasp on the mystery thief, the man twisted and turned in his grasp better than anyone ever had on the football field. It was like trying to keep a grasp on a greased eel, every time he thought he had a good grip on the man he just slipped through his fingers.

Hank was glad no one could see him as they tumbled about on the floor. The strange floor wrestling match would have looked awkward and embarrassing, maybe even gay. Hank tried to punch the shadowy thief but the man seemed to easily dodge all of his blows. Who was this guy?

Hawk pulled back and brought his fist crashing down as hard as he could. Again he missed, smashing his hand into the polished wood floor.

"Son of a –" Hank began, just as the man kicked him in the stomach, knocking the wind from him. The thief slid out from under him, and odd sound coming from him. Hawk couldn't figure out what it was at first. The man kept making the sound until Hawk realized it was laughter.

The man was actually laughing as they struggled against each other. Now Hank was pissed off.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Why the hell would you ask me that?" the man's voice was kind of high and grated against Hank's nerves. "You gonna tell me who you are?"

"Fat chance," Hawk grabbed a chair and threw it at his black-clad opponent, the man dodged the flying furniture easily, but it had only been a distraction. Hawk was upon the thief once more and this time he had more success.

One heavy punch finally landed on the thief's face, sending him stumbling back over the mess he had made. Hawk dove after him. The man scrambled to his feet impossibly fast, though still a little uneven on his feet.

"No one's been able to land a punch since I've become the cat," the man's unusually colored eyes narrowed on Hawk. "What exactly are you?"

"The guy whose gonna bring you in," Hawk proclaimed, lunging forward again. The man agilely jumped aside avoiding yet another blow.

I don't think so," the man snarled. "You wanna be Batman." The Cat leaped forward and slashed at Hawk with his hands.

Hawk was shocked when the man's blow connected and searing pain ran down his torso. The Cat had claws.

The pain was blinding, more than a few simple scratches should have been. Hawk stumbled a little in surprise. By the time he regained his footing he glanced around only to find that the Cat had fled the coop. Hawk was so busy looking for his vanished opponent he failed to notice as the front door to the apartment open up.

"Oh my God!"

Hawk spun around. A young woman about his age stood there with a cell phone pressed to her ear, her perfect mouth hanging open. Hawk knew this was the absolute wrong time to be thinking this but this girl was perfect. Her hair, flowing just past her shoulders, famed her perfectly formed face with gently curling locks, her shocked eyes a stunning green.

"Erm, this isn't what it looks like," Hawk began, stumbling over himself verbally and physically.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!" The girl let loose and ear-piercing scream that caused Hawk to slam his palms to his ears. She took a breath then screamed again.

Realizing it was a lost cause Hawk turned and sprinted across her living room and dove out the window, forgetting for just a moment that he was five stories up.