Chapter 4: Los Angeles, part 2

I zip around the city, handling things as quickly as possible. As always, I try to be discreet with the use of my powers. I listen in on the radio, hearing that 25 lockups have been made in one night. The LAPD are still in awe as to how the crooks were captured. I even went as far as leaving evidence for them. That will get them to work harder.

I decide to turn in for the night. Los Angeles is a long way from the artic, and even I need my rest. I stop in at a Hilton hotel at the front desk. Luckily I remembered to bring a hammer space projector with me to pay for my suite. I reach into my left pocket and push a button. A plastic card appears in my right pocket and I pull it out. The card has an American Express logo on it and for humor's sake, Superman is in the background. I swipe the card through the reader and go down the hallway to my suite.

The inside of my suite is big, but not that big. I stand in the living room by the front door with the kitchen to my right. A gold chandelier hangs from the ceiling in the center of the living room. I walk past the kitchen and open the wooden slide doors to the bedroom. The bed sits to my left with a small television on a dresser at the foot of the bed. I walk into the bathroom to the right and prepare my shower.

Minutes later, I dry myself off and put on my boxers. My hand held hammer-space projector sits by the television in the bedroom. I lay down on the bed, hoping to have a good dream tonight. I lay there, pondering about the work I will have to do in the morning as I stare at the ceiling. I take one last look at my hammer-space projector, seeing the bluish purple lens and its small, flat and silver square shape. It only has one button, and you can guess what that is for. I then start to think about how often I used it whenever I go into a town or city and stay there overnight. Normally I don't carry money on me, so I would use my hammer-space projector to produce gold, jewels, or a debit card. Using jewels will allow me to get away without being asked any questions, but I was too tired to think straight. As I finally slip away into sleep, I ask myself if I have truly done any good, or create more problems.

I start my morning by watching the news. The LAPD are still trying to figure out how so many criminals were locked away in one night. Regardless of my silent intervention, the city still needs my help. Right before I turned in to my suite, I was reading some police files on powerful crime lords in Los Angeles. I could shake them up a bit with my powers, but then I think about another crime lord that I exploited. A news bulletin shows up about a bank robbery just earlier this morning. The crooks made off with 30 million dollars in marked bills. I turn off the TV and walk over to the hammer space projector, picking it up. I aim it at my left wrist and push the button, materializing a black, rectangular wristwatch with a small switch on the right side. The switch is in the off position, and I keep it that way as I put on my clothes in seconds. I put the projector into my left pocket again, then I flip the switch on my new device. Like a chameleon, my body turns invisible, showing that the device works. I meant what I said about being discreet with my powers, I only wish that I had thought of this device sooner. Now I can go anywhere and use my powers freely without anyone catching me.

I follow the getaway car to an abandoned warehouse. I stay in the air so they won't hear any footsteps. Four men in black gear wearing stockings over their heads step out of the gray station wagon, all of them carrying sacks of cash. The passenger walks over to the door to the warehouse and tries to turn the doorknob, only to find out that it is locked.

"I thought you unlocked that door before we left," said the driver.

"I did. I don't know why it's locked."

The poor fools. The door isn't really locked; I'm putting my hand against it from the inside. The driver and passenger both turn the knob, but can't get the door to budge. The driver then motions for the other two to help, but they still aren't budging it. The four robbers combine their strength to try and push the door down, but to no avail. Then the driver takes out his pistol and shoots the lock. "That should do it," said the driver.

"Yes it did," I said from behind them. The four bank robbers turn around to see no one there, but I am standing right in front of them. "Who's there," asked thug 4. I decide to end the game and melt their weapons while they are holding them as they drop them from the heat burning through their black gloved hands. Police sirens can be heard nearby and the thugs decide what to do next.

"Back to the car," said the driver.

I wasn't going to let them get away, so I melted their tires. They decide to try and run, but the police cars surround them before they can run. The officers jump out of their cars and point their guns at the bank robbers, and without their weapons, they put their hands up.

I spend the rest of the day speeding and flying around the city, while cloaking myself so that no one can see me. I stop a bus from falling off a bridge, divert tremors away from the coast, put out a fire or two, and stop petty crimes. I'm hoping that with the criminals I helped put away, the crime lords will notice that someone is hurting their income. Soon they will show their true colors, and then I can expose the Big Man of Los Angeles. I only hope that once he is exposed, he will stay behind bars rather than have a high paying lawyer get him off Scott free. All I need to do is force their hand a little while longer, then the crime lords and the kingpin will unite to try and find out who is attacking their empires.

As night falls over Los Angeles, I relocate to a motel rather than stay at the Hilton to avoid questions. During my daily rounds, I flew out of town to a coal mine and grabbed a few chunks of coal to make diamonds. I stopped at an auction house and sold the diamonds, getting a big wad of cash. As I claim my room key, I fly off to do my nightly rounds. At night, I don't need the cloaking device, so I can use super speed to avoid detection. As I continue to save lives, I still question myself, wondering if the day will come that someone will help me. Having a sidekick would be cool, but what if I give them powers and they become addicted? What if I create a monster? I put that out of my mind as I resume my mission.

I hardly give myself time to relax because I am always on the go, trying to forget that the world is a rotten place. I try to inspire people from the shadows, but it is not enough. I finally slow down for a few moments as I walk down a sidewalk in the ghetto of L.A. I find myself passing up the same prostitute from before, the one that called me a Goth freak. I stop this time and hand her a fifty, then I escort her to a nearby alley. She looks around and makes a look of disappointment.

"You know, I would expect someplace more romantic."

"I only paid you to talk with you," I said. "Yeah, well I'm on the clock, so do you want a good time or not?"

"Your name is Gretchen Wells. You have been a prostitute for 4 years. How am I doing so far?" Gretchen looks at me with disbelief, then speaks in a questioning tone of voice.

"How do you know that?"

"I know that your pimp is an employee of the L.A. crime king. Tell me what you know about him, and I can guarantee your protection."

"You can't protect me. If I say anything, he'll kill me and you too. Plus, the kingpin has a lot of power."

"I know a thing or two about power. Just tell me how to get to him," I reassure her.

Gretchen shakes her head, having a twinge of fear in her eyes. I walk over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. I look her in the eyes, trying to comfort her. "I understand that you are scared, but I will handle it. I can free you from this life." I then scoop her into my arms and she smiles at me. "Oh, so you're ready to take me back to your place then?"

"Maybe." I think to myself, wondering how I can make her believe that I can save her from her pimp and from the kingpin. I don't do this often, so I look at her nervously.

"Gretchen, look down." She looks down, and sees that we are miles up in the air. She grabs onto me, and becomes slightly hysterical. "What the hell, you're flying?"

I take her back to the motel and land right in front of my door. I put her down, and she paces, rubbing her hands and then folds her arms. "S-so, you can fly? What are you, like Superman or something?"

"Something like that."

"So, are you bulletproof too?"

"Yes."

"And super strong?"

"Gretchen, are you going to help me or not?" She is still in awe about what just happened. She grabs my hand and pulls in the direction of my motel door. "Okay, I'll help you. Let's talk inside."