Chapter Six

"Hey, I'm just heading out," called Brendan, pausing at the front door. "I'll be home sometime tonight." His hand on the door, he waited for a reply that never came. Indeed, the house was completely silent except for the feint hum of a television set somewhere within. Leaving his backpack by the door, Brendan turned and headed back inside.

He found his quarry in the loungeroom. Beth Watts was curled up on the couch silently watching the television. She must've been half-way through breakfast when the morning news had caught her attention; her dark shoulder-length hair had been hastily tied in a ponytail, her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers were still firmly in place and a cup of coffee was steaming on the table, forgotten. Brendan smiled - during term, it was always impossible to imagine teachers letting their hair down over the holidays as much as the students, but he was reminded every break.

Stepping slowly into the room, he glanced to the television and recognised from first-hand memory what had captured his mother's attention - the ruined city of Taloqan. It was the first time he'd stopped to catch some television the whole week, actually - the camera was sweeping slowly over the fields of destruction, pausing for broken families, the despair in their gazes tangible even through the comforting shield of the lens. Unable to keep his eyes on the screen, he stepped forward and leaned down close.

"Hey," he said softly, and Beth turned to Brendan with a startled intake of breath. "I was just leaving. I called out before, but..."

"I'm sorry," she replied with a quick smile. "I was making breakfast, and I guess I sat down and got caught up in the news." She turned back to the television. "It's just so sad, you know?"

Brendan nodded, and couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I just want to charge in there," she continued, "and make everything right again, like the Power Rangers did."

Brendan allowed himself a small smile. "I don't think it'd be that easy," he replied. "Not to mention," and he looked back to the screen, now showing a team of rescue workers digging through a destroyed building and lifting survivors free of the rubble, "not all heroes have superpowers."

Beth smiled and turned back to Brendan. "And when did you get so philosophical?"

Brendan grinned. "You pay enough attention in class, you pick up all kinds of cool stuff."

"And you're still only managing a B in my music lessons."

"No shop talk on the holidays, we had an agreement," he replied with a grin, and Beth raised her hands in defeat. "Anyway, I'll see you tonight."

"You know, you're awfully busy for someone on his winter holidays," Beth began, as Brendan stepped back. "What are you kids all doing?"

Brendan froze in his tracks. "Uh," he began. Come on, think of something. "We're, uh, helping..." C'mon, anything. Damn, the others make this look easy. "...helping...Ernie, at the Youth Centre, organise a, uh, big winter holidays type party." Yeah. That was convincing.

But his mother seemed to buy the story, at least initially. "Hmm. I haven't heard or read anything..."

"It's a big secret, big surprise," Brendan added. Might as well run with it. "That's why the twelve of us are so busy, you know."

Beth nodded. "You know what? I'm proud of you, spending your holidays helping somebody," she said. "Just don't work too hard." Leaning forward, Beth reached up to hug her son, but Brendan felt the pressure on his ribs and pulled back involuntarily. 'Must be a growing thing,' she thought, and settled for a light kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," Brendan replied, blushing slightly and heading for the door. "See you tonight." Picking up his backpack and stepping outside, he pulled the door shut behind him, raised his communicator and spoke.

"Hey Grey, you there?"

Ian's voice crackled through the communicator. "Right here. You on your way?" he asked.

"Yep," Brendan replied. "Listen, do you know if Ernie is planning anything over the two-week break?"

There was a pause. "No, I don't think so," Ian said. "Why?"

Brendan slapped his forehead. "Do you think we could convince him to?"

"Morning guys," called Trini, as Brendan and Ian arrived in the Command Centre in showers of aqua and silver light. Everyone else was already gathered under Zordon's plasma tube, going through our suspect lists and sharing some ideas.

"Good morning everybody," Brendan smiled, as he and Ian joined us.

Zordon smiled. "Rangers," he began, and everybody looked up to him, "now that you're all here, we can begin. Alpha and I have been monitoring various radio frequencies, specifically the police bands, since late last night. So far there have been two reports of people kidnapped by 'shadows'."

Zac nodded. "That's our psycho."

"He's started early," said Scott.

Jason looked around the room. "Because he's planning something big today," he said. "He's angry. I just have a feeling, whatever today's spectacle is, it's going to be massive."

"Which is why we have to stop him today," I said. "We can't risk another confrontation with civilians caught in the middle."

Jason nodded. "Exactly. Trini, Sarah, Tommy and Zac," and he glanced over to each of them in turn, "you guys need to keep looking into the original four victims, finding out everything you can. We can predict where Fury might show up, but until we have that link, we still don't know anything about him."

The four Rangers nodded, and Jason continued. "Billy, I need you to work on taking out the shadow advantage. Can you have something put together by dusk?"

"Affirmative," Billy replied. "But I will likely require some assistance."

Scott stepped forward. "Would you mind if I gave you a hand for the day?" he asked. "Everybody else seems to be busy, and I'd like to help."

The senior Blue Ranger nodded. "I'd welcome the company."

"It's settled then," said Jason. "As for the rest of us," and he looked to me, Kim, Ian, Teresa and Brendan, "we'll keep working down the suspect list. There's thirty-six people on the list. If we work in pairs, that should give us...uh..."

Trini smiled. "Twelve."

"Twelve people each," he continued. "It's eight o'clock now, and we've got about nine hours until sunset. Plenty of time to solve the mystery and save the world," he added with a small grin. "If all else fails, we'll meet back here at five. Let's break."

With this, everybody nodded, and reached for their communicators.

"Alpha and I will monitor the situation from here," boomed Zordon, as we all prepared to teleport. "Good luck Rangers, the city needs you."

It felt like the wrong kind of day to be searching for a crazed serial killer with the powers of a three-thousand-year-old demon. Arriving in Caloundra, Jason and I immediately saw that it was a perfect July morning. The sky was a cloudless, beautiful soft blue, the air was chilly but not cold, and the main street of the city was already bustling with life.

"You get the feeling we should be playing a game of cricket on the beach or having a picnic in a park somewhere?" I asked, as we headed downtown.

"It is a nice day for it," said Jason. "I can't believe we've been on holidays for a week already. Fury owes us. Who's first?"

I glanced down to the first name on our suspect list. "Anthony Mitchell, a forty-four-year-old lawyer from what it says here. He lives in one of those apartment blocks overlooking Bulcock Beach." I paused, and shook my head. "Twelve suspects in nine hours. You really think we can do this?"

"I know we can," nodded Jason. "We can't kung-fu our way through every problem, after all."

We came to the corner and stopped, the council building beside us, the police and fire stations opposite and Bulcock Beach further down on the left. Glancing around, I saw James Pratt, the civic libertarian on TV yesterday, standing with a small group of people behind a protest table in front of the council building. A banner with the slogan, 'Where will it end?' was hanging above them.

"They're still there," I muttered. "You'd have thought they would've gotten bored by now."

Jason looked around to see who I was talking about. "Don't worry about them."

"But do you think they're right?" I asked. "Should we go to the police with what we've got? Let them do their job instead of doing it for them?"

Jason shook his head. "At the moment all we've got is a list of names and a Persian fire demon," he said. "We're gonna need more than that. Plus, sending the cops after a guy who can throw cars like tennis balls, probably not a good idea. Zordon was right, we're gonna have to take Fury down and then hand him in ourselves." I nodded, and he continued. "So where does this Mitchell guy live?"

"Westwind Apartments, the big blue building," I replied.

"Cool. We're helping our parents, lost a puppy, or just doing a school assignment?"

"Doesn't worry me. Just let me play bad cop this time."

Scott could barely contain his amazement, looking from side-to-side as he and Billy headed away from the Central Chamber and further back into the building. As near as he could tell, they were still on the same level. But until now he'd never ventured past the training room, and couldn't help but stare in wonder at the various doors they were passed, some emitting strange lights while others were locked shut.

"Man," he murmured, "ever since that first day in the Central Chamber, I've wanted to know what else was back here."

Billy glanced to the junior Blue Ranger and smiled. "I remember when the six of us first learnt of the immensity of the complex, my curiosity was almost overwhelming. Zordon eventually allowed Alpha to guide me through the building to familiar myself with the layout."

Scott turned to Billy. "So what did you see?" he asked. "I mean, how big is this place? If it's okay to ask."

Billy nodded, seeing an all-too-familiar curiosity in Scott, as the pair reached the end of the hallway and faced a wide and airy elevator. "Beneath the Central Chamber there are eleven more levels in the complex, all connected by walkways, hatches and this elevator," Billy replied. The two Rangers stepped forward and the elevator immediately began to descend, although there was no sensation of movement. "The lowest two levels house the generators that power the Command Centre - they occupy an entire floor - as well as storage and maintenance for the automated droids that maintain our zords and weapons. The two floors above that house the physical hardware that keeps the twelve of us connected to the Morphin' Grid. The power core also feeds into the Central Chamber above."

"Wow," said Scott. "I bet those floors are heavily guarded."

Billy nodded. "Zordon told me the physical barriers protecting those levels were designed to withstand Ultrazord blasts," he replied. "Above those floors is a level for security and detainment, should the Command Centre ever need to be used as a temporary jail. The level above that contains the vaults for storing items such as the Book of Hades and so forth, as well as a medium-sized laboratory. The next level is primarily storage - a trophy room, of sorts, containing keepsakes and artifacts from many quests and adventures. Above that, level five is the building's armoury, containing everything from crossbow bolts to working plasma cannons."

"The things you learn," said Scott. "And the top four levels?"

"Level four houses the databanks that store the Command Centre's computer archives," Billy continued, "but also features a small library. I wasn't shown level three, but Alpha explained that it's a disused storage area. Level two contains living and sleeping quarters, as well as a small kitchen and medbay, while level one has the training room, a smaller armoury and the Central Chamber."

Scott nodded. "Cool. So where are we working today?"

"The very lowest part of the complex," replied Billy. "Beneath even the generator and power core."

As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open, and the two Blue Rangers stepped out onto the metal floor. Scott looked up and around in dumbfounded astonishment - his first thought was that he was in an aircraft hanger, but that was immediately dismissed as he realised this place was several thousand times larger. The walls and floor stretched on for kilometres - he could barely see to the other side - and the roof must have been at least thirty storeys above his head. The sheer size of the space was staggering, its immensity beyond description.

"The final stage of the tour," said Billy simply. "The Zord Holding Bay."

9:17.

Trini shook her head, looked away from her communicator and continued walking. Worrying about the time would only make it go faster. The possibility that Fury would return tonight was a certainty. That he would be planning something to make up for his two previous failures was a theory of Jason's - which meant it might as well have been a certainty. Time always seemed to be the team's greatest enemy.

The Yellow Ranger glanced through the information she'd collected as she walked. The folder of information carried everything she'd spent the last two days researching about Troy Simmons, and it had finally led her to the address of the woman Troy had killed during the bank robbery. The woman's name was Margaret Ellis, and she'd lived here with her family before Simmons had intervened in her fate. Maybe they still lived here, and wouldn't mind talking to a complete stranger about their mother and wife who'd been so crudely taken away from them.

Maybe nothing. Trini sighed. There was a greater good here, though, and as long as she kept reminding herself, hopefully the rest wouldn't be too bad.

Turning to a letterbox on the curb beside her, Trini stopped and looked up. 15 Allora Drive. She'd arrived.

The house was a two-storey red brick building, with a sloping tiled roof and concrete driveway. Curtains were drawn across all the windows, and what had once been a nice garden was slowly being conquered by weeds. The front door sat under a second-floor balcony, and Trini slid the folder into her backpack, climbed the steps and pushed the doorbell, her heart pounding in her chest.

A full minute passed that felt like forever, and still the door remained shut. Regretting her decision more with every second, she was about to leave when the door opened slightly and she caught sight of a dark figure beyond.

"I already told you, go away!" shouted a voice, young and male from the sounds of it. "There's nobody else here, and I don't want..." but the voice trailed off, and the door was suddenly pulled open.

Trini had guessed right - a teenager stood before her, looking about the same age, with scruffy blond hair, dark brown eyes and a smile that hadn't been used enough lately. He looked familiar, though.

"Trini?" the boy said, his brows raised. "Trini Kwan?"

Trini smiled nervously. She hadn't known what to expect, but this wasn't it. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

"It's me, Brayden Ellis!" he replied. "I was in the seat behind you last year in chem class. We were in the same lab group for the first semester!"

Thinking back, Trini began to remember Brayden's face. He was right, they had shared grade nine chemistry. Hazy memories began drifting to the surface - Trini could see him in his white lab coat, could hear him saying good morning every lesson, could remember him roasting marshmallows in a bunsen burner one morning before class.

"Oh my gosh, Brayden! It's great to see you," she said with a smile. "I'm so sorry I didn't recognise you. We haven't shared any classes this year, so I hadn't..."

"That's all right," Brayden nodded. "It's a big high school and all. I'm sorry about before, I didn't recognise you either, and reporters have been showing up all week. This whole vigilante thing, you know. After they found the first four bodies, people have been digging up stuff all week. The police showed up yesterday to talk to Dad..." He stopped, his voice weary. "I'm sorry. How have you been? What brings you around?"

Trini lowered her gaze to the welcome mat. Lying to Brayden suddenly felt like the worst crime in the world. "I was walking past and...I saw a dog by the road, I thought he might have belonged to somebody who lived here," she said quickly.

Brayden shook his head. "No pets here, and I don't think any of the neighbours have any either," he replied, glancing past Trini to the street. "I can't see anything..."

"His owners must have found him then," she said, mentally sighing with relief. "Problem solved." She paused, looking into Brayden's eyes and feeling even worse than before. "I guess you've had a rough week. I do have to be somewhere this afternoon, but if you like, I could hang out here for a while, if you need somebody to talk to."

Brayden nodded. "Yeah, that'd be nice," he said, and held the door open. "I think I could use a friend. Come in, I'll put some tea on."

"Thanks," replied Trini, but as she followed Brayden into the house, the Yellow Ranger couldn't help noticing the time on a clock hanging beside the door.

9:37.

"Damn," swore Brendan, stepping back from the doorbell and scribbling a tiny 'not home' beside the corresponding address on his suspect list. "This is the third house straight. Are they seeing us coming?"

Kim nodded. "This is frustrating. It's so close to lunch, you'd think more people would be home."

"Do we have time to wait for them?" Brendan asked.

"No, we should keep going," Kim replied, and the two Rangers turned and walked back out to the sidewalk. "Next house is about two streets down."

Brendan shifted his backpack from his left shoulder to his right, and looked up to Kimberly. "You think Jason's right?" he asked. "That Fury is up to something today?"

"Totally," Kim nodded. "It makes sense, and Jason has a great track record."

Suddenly their communicators chimed, and they ducked into a nearby bus shelter. But as Kimberly raised her communicator, about six voices simultaneously crackled through the device.

"Rangers, forgive me," came Zordon's voice, "but I've opened the communicator frequency. There is something you need to hear."

"Zordon, what is it? What's wrong?" asked Teresa.

"Alpha and I have been monitoring the news feed since you left the Command Centre," the sage explained. "So far, Fury has kidnapped three more people, but we just heard a report that a seventy-five-year-old man has mysteriously disappeared from the 'Ocean Breeze' retirement home, a Mr Robert Pembleton. There were no witnesses. For all intents and purposes, he just vanished."

There was a second of silence across the band.

"But how do we know it was Fury?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," agreed Zac. "Does he have like a criminal record or something?"

"No," replied Zordon. "But we thought it worth investigating. It's a good thing we did - Alpha found that before his retirement, the man was a judge working in the Caloundra Magistrates court."

"If Fury is reacting to a specific incident where the law failed him," I began, "Judge Pembleton could've been the original judge who let him down."

"Our thoughts exactly," said Zordon. "Rangers, this man is in extreme danger..."

"Yeah, if Fury doesn't beat him to death with his infinite patience," said Brendan, "then his heart might give out."

"All right, thanks for the heads-up," crackled Jason's voice. "Everybody keep working. We've only got a few hours before nightfall," and the communicators fell silent.

Brendan turned to Kimberly. "I almost can't believe this is happening."

Kim nodded. "I know what you mean, but Jason was right, we gotta keep moving. C'mon."

"Thank you sir," said Teresa, taking her clipboard and stepping back from the door. "We're sorry for taking your time."

Ian nodded. "We'll let you know if you've won the free holiday to Tahiti."

The man they'd just finished interviewing, a thirty-six-year-old Arthur Walton who had once been attacked and hospitalised by a still-unknown assailant, nodded and stepped back. "Happy to help you kids. Just call me if I win."

"Count on it," smiled Ian. "Have a good day," and the two Rangers stepped back off the porch as the man disappeared inside his home.

"Ian, we don't have a free holiday to give away," said Teresa curiously.

The Grey Ranger shrugged. "He doesn't know that."

Teresa smiled, and checked their list of suspects. "Well, at least that was the last one," she said, crossing Arthur Walton's name off the suspect list. "Ten people, all with alibis and in the clear. Two we couldn't find." The White Ranger paused, glancing to her watch. 3:30. "Where did the day go? We've only got a few hours left." Looking up, she saw the sun was indeed on a slow descent towards the western horizon.

"We've still got plenty of time," said Ian, "and don't let it get to you. I mean, we've cleared ten people, that's gotta count for something."

Teresa nodded. "You're right, of course, it's just that, I don't know. I have this feeling we've already solved the mystery, it's just a case of looking at it." She sighed. "I'm going to head back to the Command Centre, check in and cross these ten off the overall list."

"Good idea," nodded Ian. "I'll go back and try to catch these last two. Good luck."

"Thanks, you too," she replied. "Call if you need me."

"Count on it," Ian smiled, and the Grey Ranger turned and quickly walked away. Glancing around, Teresa spied an empty alleyway a few houses down the street, with high brick walls on either side. Jogging over, Teresa lightly tapped the top button on her communicator and immediately vanished from the scene, reappearing seconds later a thousand kilometres away.

"Teresa," boomed Zordon, as she materialised in the Command Centre. "You're early. I assume that you and Ian have eliminated all of your possible vigilantes?"

"For the most part," Teresa replied. "Alpha, ten of the people on our list had solid alibis for the last few nights. Can you take them out of our database?"

"Consider it done," Alpha replied, and taking the list, turned to one of the consoles and began typing.

Teresa looked back up to Zordon. "Ian's going back after the two we missed," she said. "He'll call if he needs us. I suppose everyone is still out?"

Zordon nodded. "Billy and your brother are currently working in one of the holding bays deep under the mountain, and the other Rangers are still following their own assignments. Trini has not checked in, but she said earlier she was going to interview somebody connected to Troy Simmons, so I assume she's still pursuing the lead."

"Thanks," she said. "Guess I should head back."

Alpha turned to her. "Is there anything else I can do for you before you leave?"

Teresa paused, then nodded. "As a matter of fact there is," she replied. "Can you put the original four victims and their profiles up on the viewing screen?"

"Not a problem," the robot replied, turning back to the console.

"Something troubling you Teresa?" asked Zordon.

The White Ranger shook her head. "Not really, I just have this feeling we're missing something, you know? That everything we need to solve this is already in front of us, it's just a matter of seeing it." She sighed, and turned around to face the viewing screen. Four faces looked back.

"Simmons the bank-robber," she said aloud, "Lee the arsonist, Fitzgerald the murderer, and Harris the drug-pusher. Why did Fury pick you four?" She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "What did you all get away with to earn Fury's attention?"

But the faces could only stare back in silence.

A sudden flash of yellow light a metre away from Teresa, and Trini materialised in the Command Centre.

"Oh, hey Trini," said Teresa, glancing away from the viewing screen.

"Hi Teresa," the Yellow Ranger replied, before stepping forward and looking up to Zordon. "I'm sorry I haven't checked in," she said quickly. "I was building my profile for Troy Simmons, and I found the son of the woman he shot. I know him, he was in one of my classes last year, and he was so depressed, I couldn't leave him. I'm sorry, I didn't find out anything to help us with Fury."

"But you spent the day helping someone in need of a friend," replied Zordon. "I think we can forgive you for that." Trini smiled, and Zordon continued. "Now that you're here, perhaps Teresa could use some help...?"

But Teresa was still staring at the faces on the viewing screen, lost a universe or two away. There was something there, something Trini had just said.

"Sorry Zordon," she said, turning away from the viewing screen. "Trini, who did you spend the day talking to?"

"A guy called Brayden Ellis," Trini replied. "He's the son of the woman Troy Simmons killed during the robbery..."

With that one sentence, the haze lifted. Teresa could almost feel the lightbulb exploding above her head as the truth - the glaringly, painfully obvious truth - suddenly became clear.

"That's it," she said softly. "That's the link." She looked up to Trini and Zordon, speaking excitedly. "That's it, that's what links them, I can't believe we missed it!"

"Teresa," began Trini, "what do you mean?"

"It's children," said Teresa simply. "That was the link all along." She raised her hand and began counting. "The woman killed by Simmons has a teenage son, Sarah said that the family killed in Lee's hotel fire had a daughter who escaped, I overheard Kitty saying that she used to baby-sit for Fitzgerald's son, and of course somebody like Anthony Harris would be well-known among school kids." She glanced up to Zordon, suddenly inspired. "And didn't Ian say that one of the victims from the second night had been charged for beating her stepson? All the crimes that Fury is punishing for have in some way directly harmed children." She paused triumphantly. "And that's the link."

Trini nodded, comprehension dawning on her face. "You're right, of course! That has to be it!"

"Alpha," began Teresa, "can you go back through the suspect list and search for anybody who, I don't know, deals with children on a regular basis, maybe a teacher or a sports coach or something?"

"Ayeyiyi!" cried Alpha, barely two seconds later. "There's only one person left who fits that profile. Twenty-five-year-old Ryan Anderson. He's a child psychiatrist, and from what it says here, he's currently working as a guidance councillor at the high school."

"Mr Anderson?" asked Trini. "Alpha, why is he one of our suspects?"

"His grandfather was killed by a drunk driver when Ryan was nine," Alpha explained. "Laws about drink driving weren't as strict fifteen years ago, so the driver was let off on a technicality."

"That's him," nodded Teresa. "It's gotta be," and she raised her communicator and spoke. "Jason, you there?"

"Go ahead Teresa."

"I think we've got him," said Teresa. "Ryan Anderson, a child psychiatrist. He's currently the high school guidance councillor."

There was a pause. "Mr Anderson? Are you sure? He seems like such a well-adjusted kind of guy."

"I'll explain later. Trust me, he's our killer," said Teresa.

A few feet behind them by one of the consoles, Alpha suddenly burst into a fit of 'ayeyiyis', and both Trini and Teresa turned to him.

"Alpha, what is it?" asked Trini. "What's wrong?"

"I just checked Ryan Anderson's employment records," Alpha replied. "He was employed briefly as a police officer, but he was discharged for using excessive force when apprehending suspects. I just need a second to access the database... Rangers, look at this! The reason he was fired - the actual words in the file are 'like a form of vigilantism'."

There was a second of silence. "Jason, you get all that?" asked Teresa.

"Loud and clear," the Red Ranger replied. "You guys are right - that's our psychopath. Do you have an address listed for him?"

Teresa glanced down to the screen. "101 Kurtz Drive."

"That's only a few streets back from the Youth Centre. Zordon, can you open the communication line?"

"Already done," said Zordon, and across the Sunshine Coast, ten communicators chimed simultaneously.

"Okay," began Jason, "guys, we've got ourselves a vigilante. Ryan Anderson, the high school guidance councillor. I don't have all the details, but trust me, he's our badguy. Anybody who can, meet me at the Youth Centre in five minutes." The communication band fell silent for a second, before Jason continued. "Teresa, Trini and Alpha, good work. We're closing in."

Everybody except Billy and Scott (who were still busy in the Command Centre) and Trini (who'd volunteered to stay back and help) teleported into the Youth Centre, and we all met up beside the Juice Bar. It was only five minutes to Kurtz Drive, and as we walked Teresa filled us in on everything that had happened in the Command Centre. Turning the corner into Kurtz Drive, Ryan Anderson's house loomed before us.

Sarah glanced to the letterbox on the footpath. "101, this is it," she said.

Single-storey and brown-brick, the house looked distinctly out of place compared to the homes on either side. The curtains were all tightly closed, the garage beside the house was locked shut, and it had been a great many weeks since the garden had seen the hands of a gardener. Indeed, it looked as if nobody had actually lived there for months. Even the front yard was silent - there were no birds or lizards anywhere in the garden. It was like some kind of malevolent presence had manifested around the house, and everything that could was now avoiding it.

"I remember this place," said Kimberly slowly. "We came past here yesterday and nobody was home. I am so creeped out right now."

"What if the victims are inside?" asked Ian, as we slowly approached.

Zac shook his head. "Would he even keep them here?"

"I agree," said Teresa. "I don't think we'll find anybody in here. Fury, on the other hand..."

"If he's in here, we'll just try and talk him out of whatever he's planning," said Sarah, checking her watch. "It's 4:47, there's still time before sunset."

Brendan peered through the windows along the front of the house as we reached the front door. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm kinda hoping he isn't home."

Teresa nodded. "We can't risk a battle with the families in all those homes caught in the middle."

"You needn't worry Rangers," chimed Alpha's voice through our communicators. "You nine are the only people on the property."

Jason nodded. "Thanks," he said, and he turned to Tommy standing beside him. "Let's make an entrance. Everybody else, hang back for a second..."

The two sized up the heavy wooden door, and turning to face each other, they simultaneously slammed their heels into the door. It shook under the impact, raining a small shower of dust, and just one more double kick was enough to bring the door down, taking most of the door frame with it and smashing a small wooden table to splinters as it hit the floor.

"Whoa," said Zac, as the two turned back to face us. "Demolition plus."

Jason smiled. "We do our best," he said. "Okay, check all the rooms. Either there's something in here that proves Ryan is guilty, or we owe somebody a new front door." He paused. "And turn on every light you find."

Wary of any traps, the group entered the building and split up. I headed down the hallway, finding a room towards the back of the house that looked to be a study and hitting the light switch on the wall as I entered. A desk and computer sat in the corner on my right, with a bookcase on my left and several chairs in the centre of the room. At the far side of the room was a shelf displaying several framed pictures and photos, but it was the large noticeboard hanging above that caught my attention. Crossing the room, I soon saw why.

Newspaper clippings - dozens of them, hundreds of them - were pinned to the noticeboard. There were stories about brutal crimes and prisoners walking free, pictures of grieving families and crying children, statistics and profiles all relating to the law. In the very centre was an ancient-looking cutting, yellowed and torn. Beside the text was a picture of a young boy. The photographer had captured tears streaming down the boy's face, but his eyes looked empty, like there was nothing behind them. This was the face of a boy who'd lost everything to a world that simply hadn't cared.

I glanced to the story accompanying the photo, but only made it through the first paragraph.

Noted figure in the community James Anderson was killed yesterday by a drunk driver, while only yards away, his grandchildren watched on helplessly.

Holy...

"Guys, get in here, quick!" I cried.

Jason was first through the door, the rest of the team right behind him. "What is it?" he asked.

"I'd say this counts as evidence," I said, indicating the noticeboard, and there was a second of silence as the Rangers all glanced over the newspaper stories.

Teresa scanned the centre article, and the pieces finally fell into place. "And there's where Fury was born," she said. "Watching as his grandfather was killed. Judge Pembleton failed him, so he spent his life preparing for the day he could take his revenge."

Jason nodded. "But he was too brutal for the police force, so they fired him. The system failed him twice."

"Hey, check this out," said Brendan, pointing to an article pinned at the top right-hand corner of the noticeboard. We all glanced over the text - it was a simple obituary, barely three sentences long, about a retired man named Daniel Everett who'd died of heart failure about six months ago.

"Look at the man's name," said Sarah, glancing back at the centre article. "Daniel Everett, the driver who killed Ryan's grandfather, fifteen years ago."

"That's most likely what set Ryan off," I nodded. "He was robbed of the opportunity to take revenge, so he became Fury."

"You're right," said Jason, looking back at the centre article. "The street where James Anderson was killed was just a vacant lot fifteen years ago." He turned back to us. "But they eventually built the magistrate's court there. That's where Fury is going to be tonight. The ultimate message he could deliver - destroying the courthouse itself."

"Got us another clue," called Zac, over by the desk. "There's a property deed here for a disused warehouse behind the industrial district." He turned to Brendan. "Looks like you were right, bro."

"That's where the victims will be," nodded Tommy. "That's where he'd keep them."

Jason nodded. "Let's go check it out. From this point on, we're in full Ranger mode. Brendan," and he turned to the Aqua Ranger, "I need you to find Ian's dad, and tell him everything."

"You got it Jason," Brendan replied.

"Okay then Rangers," he said, and we all reached for our back pockets. "It's morphin' time!"

"Iguanodon!"

"Dilophosaurus!"

"Rhamphorynchus!"

"Velociraptor!"

"Stegosaurus!"

"Dragonzord!"

"Mastodon!"

"Pterodactyl!"

"Tyrannosaurus!"

The warehouse sat amidst the scrub a fair distance behind the city's major industrial district, accessible only by a narrow dirt road. Like Anderson's house, the huge rectangular building was sealed tight, but now we were suited up, stealth was no longer an issue. Arriving on the scene, Jason immediately summoned the megablaster and blasted a hole in the building large enough to drive a truck through.

Charging through the cloud of dust and smoke, Jason held the megablaster at arm's length, swinging it in a wide arc as the rest of us spread out on either side of him. But aside from several small rooms in the far corner of the building, the warehouse was empty.

"I guess nobody's home," I said, my voice echoing through the building.

"Which means he's already preparing for tonight," said Jason.

Kimberly glanced up to the ceiling. All the fluorescent lights hanging from the roof appeared to have been violently destroyed. "This is definitely where Fury kept his victims during the day."

Sarah jogged over to the cells in the corner, peering through the doors into each. "They're all empty," she called.

"We did miss him," said Ian. "What now?"

"We get out of here, first thing," I replied. "This place is giving me the creeps."

Jason nodded. "We need to be ready for tonight," he said, and everybody walked back out into the late afternoon sunshine. "We know who Fury is, all we have to do now is stop him. Billy," and Jason raised his communicator, "are they mobile?"

"Affirmative," came Billy's reply. "Scott, Trini and I are almost ready. I have some reservations though, Jason. Is it entirely probable this strategy will succeed? We may be able to contain Fury, but we still might not be able to stop him."

Jason nodded, realising that Billy was right. They needed a back-up plan, just in case. Thinking back to Ryan Anderson's house, he pictured the wall of clippings and the framed photos underneath. "Don't worry, I've got it covered," he replied, and turned to the Green Ranger beside him. "Tommy, when we get back to the Command Centre, could you do me a favour? I need you to look a couple of people up for me..."

But as the eight Rangers left, none of us noticed a pair of fiery eyes burning in the darkness, watching us intently for a few minutes before winking out of existence.