The thing about air, you never appreciate it until its gone. Somehow, I have a feeling I said that before. The person behind me sure had a lot of strength, I wasn't sure if his iron wire was meant to strangle me – or simply yank my head off my shoulders. Was that the end of the original Blue Ranger? To die at the hands of an unidentified person in a bus next to a kid wearing earphones larger than some of the morphers I've seen? Not in a long shot. I reached with my left hand up, grabbing the sleeves of my soon to be killer. I reached up, forcing my legs to stretch and pick me up. I made it to his neck, and eventually to his face. I decided to do what he did – I squeezed as hard as I could. By that point, the world began filling with numerous black dots. I squeezed his face harder, and just before my hearing dropped, I heard him scream, and slightly letting go of his grip on the wire. That was all I needed, as I immediately got up and slammed my head in his chin. I ran off, getting next to the back door of the bus. I looked at the person who tried to kill me. He was a blonde man in his middle twenties, with a dark and brooding look and a face so focused I began fearing for me life. Even more so than I originally feared. Luckily, the bus just reached a station. I took off, and the man tried to follow me. The door closed before he had a chance to get down as well, so he just stared at me with the same glare as before until the bus went out of sight. I took the chance, and collapsed on the floor.
Cam waited by the final bus station, constantly peeking at his wristwatch. Its been a while, as the bus should have arrived by that time. That is, unless everything went according to plan. To Cam's dismay, the bus pulled next to the station 15 minutes late, and among the mass of people was Hunter. It should be noted that by that time, Hunter's face showed a mixture of frustration and anger.
"I take it that didn't go to well?" Asked Cam, sarcastically as always.
"That Billy may be a little harder to kill than we thought. Why did we take this job anyway?" Commented Hunter, throwing the iron wire into a nearby dumpster.
"Money." Replied Cam, and with a grin on his face added: "So, how's your record for now?"
"237 to 1, and that one is about to change. Hey, where's the car?"
"Right behind this corner. So, what took you so long?"
"Traffic was a bitch. Speaking of bitch, when does the boss wish to see us?"
"In about three hours, we have some time to visit your brother." Said Cam, as he pressed a tiny remote control, and their car began making its way to them. Hunter smiled.
"Oh Billy my dear man, you look like hell." I opened one of my eyes, I can't remember which, I was still a bit drowsy. I tried to look at the person leaning over me, only to identify a woman with dark hair touching my neck. "Trini?" I asked, as if from within a dream. Maybe the term hallucination would've been better suitable. As my eyes focused, I began recognizing her face. "Cassie?"
"He's alright!" Cassie raised her tone to say that, which hurt my head. "Sorry."
As she helped me sit up, I realized I was on the grass, which was rather wet. A tall, African-American man approached me, and leaned next to Cassie. "You… Theodore J. Jarvis…"
"Please, call me TJ." He said with a smile. "I have to give it to you Billy, for a computer geek you're really a tough guy."
Computer geek? No one called me that since high school, and that was a long time ago. "Where am I? How did you guys find me?" That was until I noticed a bump under TJ's jacket. I felt my way to a nearby tree, and leaned against it. I tried to force myself into getting up and running, but every time I tried my legs failed me.
Cassie and TJ looked at me puzzled a bit, until Cassie finally reached and took out whatever was behind TJ's jacket. An old fashioned, battle worn Astro Blaster. She smiled at me, and TJ simply added: "Never leave home without it."
"Don't worry, we're on your side." Cassie said, putting on a comforting face to calm me down. "We're the good guys."
My god, how many former Rangers are in this? My head felt like a merry-go-round that went out of control. And when I say out of control, I mean Squatt and Baboo operating it. Getting the picture? I didn't, my head kept spinning.
"What do we have here officer?" asked Eric, as he approached the first man in uniform he saw standing next to the bar. The officer, a man in his mid-forties, signaled towards an ambulance next to them. Eric counted medics treating about six men with a variety of bruises.
The officer pointed to a slightly overweight individual thick, straw like hair and mustache, who was treated for a cut in his temple. "According to him, he saw a good looking girl in the bar and tried to win her over. He claimed he was drunk, so he may have been a little aggressive towards her. When he refused to leave her alone, he said this guy jumped on him, and started beating the crap out of him."
"Watch your language." Said Eric, with an unusual demanding tone. "Is the attacker among the injured men?"
"No, he's the reason they are all there. Hey Gary! Bring Bruce Lee over here!"
A second officer came by, this one was about as old as his partner, and sported a doughnut-loving belly. He was pushing another man, shackled in a pair of handcuffs. The man's face was almost completely covered by a messy net of ungroomed brown hair. His jeans were once, back in 2003, blue and neat, but they have become white and shredded from years of mistreating. All the time he was dragged, his eyes were focused on nothing but the floor.
"Hello Ryan." Said Eric. Behind his sunglasses his eyes looked at the former Titanium Ranger in disgust.
Ryan raised his head a bit and looked directly at Eric, his hair covering half his face including his right eye. With his left eye red as if he didn't sleep for many months, and a face that gave out depression, he said: "Eric… you look good…"
"Wish I could say the same for you my man." Said Eric.
"Want to tell the Silver Guardian why you attacked these guys?" asked the cop, mockingly.
"They're not real! None of them exists! None of us exists!" he began yelling like a madman.
"Un-cuff him officer." Ordered Eric, the officers arched an eyebrow at him.
"We don't recommend that, sir. It took seven of us to bring him down, one of us even requires stitches." Despite that, Eric's face remained as demanding as before. "Alright, don't say we didn't warn you." Unwillingly, the heavier officer took out a pair of key from his belt, and opened the handcuffs around Ryan's wrists. At first, it seemed like everything was going well. But then, Ryan leaped and threw a kick aimed at Eric hand, only to meet his open palm. Eric caught his leg, and Ryan tried to use that to balance him and thus allow him to kick with his other leg. Only Eric leg go of his leg just in time, and Ryan fell to the floor. On the ground, Ryan used both his legs and arms to spin into a stand. He then tried to jump once again, but this time he delivered a kick with both his feet to Eric's chest, sending both of them to the floor. The two arched their backs, and threw them straight up in order to stand on their feet again. Ryan held both hands clenched like fists, while Eric held both his hands open. Ryan tried to make a punch with his right hand, throwing him completely off balance. Eric grabbed his forearm, and used Ryan's own weight to force him to the floor for the third time. Ryan quickly smashed his other fist against the side of Eric's ribs, taking the air out of his lungs. Ryan did the legs thing all over again in order to stabilize himself, only this time he stuck his ankle in Eric's face. By the time Eric rubbed his nose, Ryan was already standing up. Ryan greeted his opponent with an uppercut to the face, who in turn returned the favor with a roundhouse kick. This time, Ryan's body ached enough in order to prevent him from getting up as fast as before, and Eric took advantage of the chance to knock him out with a hammer punch to the cheek.
Eric got up, looking at the cops looking at him, completely dazzled. Wes on the other hand was holding a cigarette between his lips, and a lighter in his right hand, as he clapped his partner. "Good one partner!"
"You could have helped, you know!" called the pissed, and rather exhausted Eric back at him.
"You looked like you could handle yourself well enough. Arms or legs?"
"Arms, I did all the work this time." Said Eric, and grabbed Ryan by the armpits. Wes stretched his shoulders, and grabbed Ryan by the ankles. The two then carried him to their SUV, and put him in the backseat. To make sure he doesn't resist too much, they chained him with three sets of handcuffs: one for each leg, and one for his left wrist. Eric grabbed a tissue from the glove compartment, and wiped the blood off his lip.
Wes smiled, and put the lighter closer to his cigarette.
"Need a light?" asked Eric, and when Wes turned to look at him, he showed magnificent marksmanship ability by shooting the cigarette and slicing it without hurting his partner. Wes looked at the tiny portion of smoke he had between his lips, and spit it out. "You know, I have a feeling this case might get me to stop smoking."
"What happened?" I asked, this time I was in an alley, and the daylight was covered by nightfall. Cassie and TJ leaned right next to me. "You passed out, again." She said.
"Yeah, whoever did that to you did a hell of a job. I think that's going to leave a scar." Added TJ with a smirk, and both he and Cassie peeked into a large restaurant/theatre, which read in highlighted gold "Stone's".
"How did you know I needed to get here?" I was puzzled, but this time my head didn't spin.
"You told us, right before you passed out, remember?" asked Cassie. To be honest, I didn't remember.
"Look man, this is where you need to be right now. We'll be there in the background, should you need us." Said TJ, as he gestured towards the restaurant.
I looked at my watch, 9:30 PM. No time to waste, I was scheduled to meet Kimberly at 10, I didn't have time for suspicions. I nodded to the two, and walked towards the restaurant.
"Green!" the TV monitor switched from one of Friends' highlight episodes, to an image of a person clad in a black hooded robe. He addressed the man sitting in the office, who was wearing a green hooded robe. "Everything is going according to plan."
"Excellent Black. Is your man going to be there as well?" asked Green, who much like his partner used a voice scrambler.
"He will be there, he's my best man – he isn't about to screw up."
"Better hope so Black, or the entire operation might go to the drain. I'm sending one of my own guys, he'll perform as backup in case your man fails." Said Green, as he began dialing the number of another person. "It's time for Billy Cranston to tell us what he knows, and who else he talked to."
As he finished speaking, both of them simultaneously disconnected the conversation.