Chapter Forty-four

Clean-Up Club

Jason stared after Billy worriedly as the pile of flailing limbs and colorful curses in front of the elevator tried to untangle themselves. "Ah… well… Carrie… nice talking to you, but something's just come up, and, um… sorry about randomly hugging you and everything…"

Carrie gave him a sharp look that made him trail off. "Look, Mr. Scott, as much as I hate to do this, I've got to talk to you. Alone. Now," Carrie whispered. "If you want me to keep anyone from looking too hard at Dr. Oliver's similarities to the Power Rangers, I need your help. If you let this go too far, it won't be long before someone figures it out. There's enough proof in Reefside to completely you. I should know; I've gathered it myself. Please. I promise, I'll make it worth your while."

Jason sighed, but before he could reply, the real Black Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger appeared in their midst, seemingly from out of nowhere. Carrie stared at him in shock.

"Hello!" he said loudly. "I have been made aware of the fact that, um, you think this guy—" the Black Ranger jerked his thumb at Tommy— "is me. And I'm here to prove that, well, he's not. See? Me Black Ranger. Not him."

Carrie shook her head, not quite ready for this sight on top of every other moment she'd just had in the past five minutes that had thrown her for a loop. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the hotel personnel (minus the security guards, who were now wrestling the biker) were charging for the stairs… but they all slowed down to get a good look at the Black Ranger. Without a second thought, they all turned to head towards the cluster of Rangers in the center of the restaurant.

"Thank you, real Black Ranger," Tommy said through gritted teeth. "Now, if you would be so kind as to fade back into the night before causing a public relations nightmare."

"Did it ever occur to you that I might have an ulterior motive for doing this?" the Black Ranger muttered, watching the approaching hotel staff anxiously. Other customers in the restaurant were staring or cheering, awed and overjoyed at the sight of a Ranger in their midst. He turned to shoot a look at Tommy, then paused. "Hey!" he hissed. "Is that my shirt? OW!" he yelled, more out of habit than pain, as the suit dulled most of the damage Tommy had tried to do. "I mean, uh, I have one just like that." Tommy and the Black Ranger turned to give Carrie worried looks.

"Go," Tommy growled at the Ranger.

"I can't! It's a diversion!" he replied as quietly as possible.

For what? Carrie wondered, turning around to look back towards the elevator. She glimpsed two young men in ill-fitting bellhop uniforms coming out of the elevator, their heads down and their caps pulled low, walking in the hurried fashion of two people who were breaking a rule as they carefully skirted around the two security guards who were failing to hold the biker down. The two bellhops were wheeling a bellman's cart, upon which was only a haphazardly-piled black blanket patterned with Ninja Turtles in various battle poses. Something about the bellhops looked familiar, and the blanket looked too small to make such a big pile… in fact, it looked like it was draped carefully over something. Carrie's eyes widened as she realized just where Billy Cranston had gone.

The moment they were in the parking lot, the Black Ranger sighed in relief and said, "Well, folks, I, uh, I've got people to save!" and ran for it, heading out the back entrance, which led to the pool.

Realizing the ramifications this would have on her keeping Tommy Oliver's whereabouts a secret, Carrie whipped out her cell phone and hit the speed dial for Jenny. She answered immediately, leaning over the front desk with her own phone clamped to her ear.

"Oh my god, did you just see—?" Jenny began excitedly.

"Of course I saw. I was standing right next to him," Carrie snapped as the hotel manager and his entourage followed the Black Ranger out the back, barely sparing a glance for Jason, Tommy, Kira, Trent and Carrie. "Things just got worse. I need you to delete Kimberly Hart's name from the register. Zack Taylor's, too, just in case. Bill them all to Anton Mercer and fix the 'mistake' the day they check out."

"But…"

"I'll explain later, I promise. I need you to do this for me. Please, Jen, as your best friend of eleven yea—"

"Fine! I'll do it. But I want details later."

"Done."

Carrie hung up, having almost forgotten about the others until she found them all staring at her, having overheard her side of the conversation. "What?" she asked with a wry grin. "How do you think I found you? Black magic and bribery? I prefer good old-fashioned spies."

Jason grinned, then looked at Tommy. "Take Kira and Trent and go upstairs. Get dressed and get ready to run; I want us out of this hotel as fast as possible, at least for the day. From now on, we keep as low a profile as possible in this place."

"What about you?" Tommy asked.

"I'll be talking to Carrie."

"Jase, you can't—"

"Want to try and stop me, bro?" Jason asked, his tone both amused and challenging.

Tommy smiled thinly. "Then I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because you're not going out in public with me while dressed like that. Besides," he added with another grin, "someone has to make sure my wife doesn't find out what I'm doing."

"Ah, and the real motive comes out." Tommy smiled, then nodded curtly at his two utterly confused students. "Kira, Trent, come on. Now." Throwing down some cash to cover the food bill, and adding a very large tip, Tommy jogged off towards the elevator.

"What the hell is going on, Dr. O?" Kira complained.

"Not now," Tommy said impatiently as he stepped around the brawling biker and guards and punched the button for the elevator. It opened at once… revealing two bellhops, bound, gagged and blindfolded on the elevator, one making muffled noises of protest around his gag, the other still unconscious. Both of them were in their underwear.

"Conner!" Tommy groaned in exasperation, jerking his head at Kira and Trent to follow him past the elevator. "Come on. We're taking the stairs."

A bewildered Trini pulled open the door at Tommy's frantic knock, only to have Kira shoved bodily at her. "Mild situation," Tommy barked, checking the hall carefully for eavesdroppers.

"What kind?" Trini asked urgently.

He smiled without humor. "The kind that if I tell you about now, you'll panic, but if I tell you about it later, you'll laugh yourself sick. Just stay in the room and wait for me to call. Be ready to run out of here when I do."

Tommy shut the door and Kimberly and Trini looked expectantly at Kira. Kira just shook her head and sat down on the bed, trying to catch her breath from the mad dash up the stairs while thinking up a good cover story. Dr. O had specifically said not to tell Trini anything. Well, actually what he'd specifically said was, "Not a word to Trini—or Kim—or I'll do some of the things Conner makes me want to do to him when he breaks one of my possessions," so she was definitely going to comply.

"I don't know what happened," Kira said shakily. "Trent and I were eating breakfast and… Dr. O sat down with us and it all went downhill from there…"

Kimberly and Trini looked at each other. "Ah," Kimberly said wisely, "welcome to life with Tommy."

"Just so you know," Jason said as he and Carrie seated themselves in a secluded corner of the patio surrounding the pool (under the balconies, so that Trini couldn't look down and see them), "if my wife finds out about this, she's gonna kick your ass."

Carrie chuckled. "Is that a threat?"

Jason shook his head. "It's a warning," he replied, only half-joking.

"So, I take it you married the Yellow Ranger?" Carrie asked.

"Yeah." He sighed. "How long have you known?"

"About you? Just since you walked up drinking Red Pop. I've known Billy Cranston was the Blue Ranger and Tommy Oliver the Green for about two years now. Figured it out after that island explosion. What was going on there, anyway?"

"You've heard of Mesogog, the arch enemy of Reefside's Power Rangers?" She nodded. "Anton Mercer was experimenting on himself, and something went wrong. He disappeared a few days before the island blew up… and came back to Reefside as Mesogog."

"I always thought there was something else going on there than just Power Rangers searching the ocean for a comrade… makes sense, especially since Dr. Oliver is the Black Dino Ranger."

Jason looked impressed. "Figured out his color and everything, did you?"

"Reports in Reefside claimed that the Black Ranger's voice sounded older than the others, and when the Black Ranger was absent for several battles in a row, Oliver was out sick with a mysterious illness." Carrie shrugged. "Wasn't that hard. His battle with Elsa Randall on the school's front lawn didn't hurt my cause."

"The other Dino Rangers, do you know who they are?"

"Kira Ford is the Yellow, and Trent Fernandez was the White—I met him back in Reefside when interviewing Randall. Seems she's dating his father—which, come to think of it, makes even more sense now that I know Mercer was Mesogog. Anyway, I was never very clear on the other two. The tall one is probably the Red, but I never got their names—"

"Conner McKnight and Ethan James." Jason watched her carefully as she thought this over, and nodded to himself when she didn't write down either name. Jason didn't feel bad letting her know this; he figured that if she really wanted to know, she could probably find out just by asking a few choice people in Reefside—it wouldn't be all that hard, not since all she lacked about them were their names. "Conner's the tall one, the Red."

"Ah. He doesn't wear a lot of red, but Ethan wears almost nothing but blue. Can I ask why it is you do that? Isn't it overly conspicuous?"

Jason shrugged. "We can't help it. It's like a badge of honor. An association, an addiction even, when it comes to our colors… It's different with those of us who have changed colors, of course. I was also the Gold Zeo Ranger, but I guess because my uniform was mostly black that became my color. Usually, we all try and wear our colors every day, simply because it drives us crazy if we don't. It's like having Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. But those of us who've switched colors, like me and Tommy… all of us sometimes just wake up sometimes and say, 'Today's a Red day,' or whatever." He leaned back. "How'd you know Tommy was the Green? And what made you realize Billy was the Blue."

She told him about the island, and Power Rangers Day, and her research. "After that," she finished, "I tried looking through old notes on Billy Cranston's friends, but there wasn't much left to go on, so I couldn't determine who was who. Now, though… since Trini Kwan is now Trini Scott, and you married the Yellow, I assume that's her. So Kimberly Hart must be the Pink Ranger. Zack Taylor left Angel Grove shortly after the White Ranger appeared, so he must have been Black. Things get really confusing right around the White Ranger's arrival, though, and there wasn't much research done on any of you after you three left Angel Grove, since the Power Rangers were still around and you weren't… so who was the White Ranger?"

"Tommy," Jason said, looking slightly surprised that she hadn't already figured it out. "Once we knew his powers were gone for good… well, Zordon, our… um… the guy who gave us our powers, he made Tommy the White Ranger. When the Mighty Morphin' Rangers lost their powers, Tommy became the Red Zeo Ranger."

"After you left, who took over?"

Jason shook his head. "I'm sorry. Me and the others… you've already figured it out, or you were about to. So I don't mind telling you about them, because you'd be able to screw us with or without this conversation. We don't matter anymore, not where you're concerned. But I can't betray them."

Carrie nodded, slightly disappointed, but not much. "It was you I cared about. Ever since that day you sat down on my desk and started slurping Red Pop through a straw, I haven't stopped wondering who you were."

"Thought I was hot, did you?" Jason joked, leaning back in his chair and giving her a cocky grin.

Carrie rolled her eyes, but she laughed. "Yes, helmets are so sexy." She paused. "All right. I'll admit it. The spandex was much nicer than those ninja suits."

Jason laughed uproariously. "Thanks. I think." He shrugged. "I was never a Ninja, myself."

Carrie grinned. "All joking aside, that day meant a lot to me. I looked at you and suddenly I realized that complaining about my crappy life was pointless."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"Because your life sucked worse and yet you were out there saving my life."

He grinned. "I was an idiot like that."

"You gave me a career, too. God, I wanted out of that department. Wanted to be a real reporter. Plus the pay was way better."

Jason shook his head. "You gave me a lot more. Gave us a lot more. I still read everything you write."

"That means a lot to me," she said quietly.

"I always wanted to email you or something, since your email is included in your column, but I was afraid of giving myself away. I'm glad I got to tell you that that article was one of the nicest things you could have done for me."

"I got your thank-you letter," Carrie said. "It was very sweet. I kept trying to find a way to reply, but I couldn't come up with any way to do it."

Jason winced. "Don't ever publish that letter, please. My wife would kill me. And then divorce me."

"I won't. Besides, it's ten years old. It's beyond old news."

Jason cleared his throat. "Now that you know who I am…"

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're asking."

"Actually, I was going to ask to keep in touch." He frowned. "Am I coming off as flirtatious? Because my wife—well, more than oxygen, you know?"

Carrie smiled. "Understood. And that's a mutual sentiment there. But I'd like to keep in touch. As long as I don't get killed in my sleep by a Yellow Ranger. That'd be really bad press."

"Agreed." He sighed. "I actually don't have a lot of time. Between Zack running in like an idiot—"

"I think the other two Dino Rangers smuggled Billy Cranston out of the hotel after stealing uniforms from bellhops. I'm not sure if knowing that is a help to you or not, but…"

Jason groaned. "Damn it… that's Zack for you. Smart guy, but kinda ditsy, you know? And Billy, most intelligent sentient being alive, and yet once he starts to really and truly panic it's a whole other ballgame. Conner and Ethan… well… um, anyway… we're getting off-topic."

Carrie nodded. "I'm on deadline, too. I can't stay long. My editor's already demanding to know why I haven't gotten him a piece on this yet."

"So back to the point… the receptionist is a friend of yours?"

"Yeah. That's how I found out about Dr. Oliver staying in the hotel. I had her delete Tommy's name from the register, so that even after her shift is over no one will be able to find his name, along with Kimberly Hart and Zack Taylor's. I'd stay gone most of the day, though; now that the Black Ranger has shown up, this place will be swarming with press soon. Should be safe by nightfall, but I'd take the back way in and out as often as possible."

"Don't worry, I've already thought of that. Billy will never set foot in this hotel again if I can help it, and Tommy will take every precaution. Now, then… how did you know about Walter? Did the cops—?"

"Cops haven't said a thing to anyone. My friend is a medical assistant there," Carrie replied. "The cops are pretty close, though. The older one, Abe, he thinks his partner's crazy, and I get the feeling he doesn't want to get dragged into this mess. But Don was actually getting pretty far. Figured out who Dr. Oliver was, but he has no proof, just speculation. If you get Walter to recant his story—"

"Don't worry, I'll be making a call here soon enough," Jason said dryly.

"—then Officer Brewster will be at square one. Doesn't hurt that I sent the cops on a little wild goose chase to Reefside."

"You… what?"

"I gave him a few names. Councilwoman Eleanor Sanchez, for one."

"Sanchez… Sanchez…" Jason frowned, trying to recall the name.

"Oliver dated her daughter. Eleanor Sanchez is practically in love with the guy herself, though. It was all I could do not to fall asleep when I talked to her. 'Tommy's the best thing that ever happened to my daughter, I hope they get back together one day, wonderful person… Ranger? Are you insane? No, no, he's far too real and solid and honest to be a double life.' I also sent them to Elsa Randall, whose story would have convinced me if I hadn't already come so far by the time I stumbled across her, and to a woman named Hayley—"

"Hayley?" Jason hissed.

"Yes, do you know her?"

"Yeah. Ugh." Jason wiped a hand over his face wearily. "Involving Hayley in this… she'll probably be pissed. But if anyone's smart enough to throw people off the scent, it's her."

"Was she a Ranger, also?"

"No. She helped Tommy mentor the team, built a lot of their technology and came up with a lot of their secret plans. Old friend of his from college."

"Ah. Well, I imagine that if those two cops make it past the mayor's wrath, they won't get anything out of those three women. They'll turn them around, just like they tried to do to me."

"You're probably right about that." Jason sighed and pushed his chair back. "I really should get going. I have a lot of work to do, and timing is crucial."

Carrie nodded and stood up. "See you at Power Rangers Day?"

He nodded. "I'll be there."

Carrie pulled her notepad from her purse, along with a Sharpie. "I know it's not Power Rangers Day yet, but… would you do the honors?"

Jason grinned, flipped to a page at the back, and began to write. She'd been expecting something short and simple, but he kept going, even flipping to another page to finish his message before signing, "The Red Ranger" with a flourish.

She held out her hand for him to shake, and he started to shake it before pulling her to him for a tight hug. She hugged him back, not as startled this time, and felt a sense of peace wash over her. She'd uncovered the Power Rangers' identities; a feat that few, if any, had managed before her. She'd finally found her friend from the bad day of all bad days, who'd completely altered her life, and realized she'd altered his as well. It felt unbelievably good to end a ten-year chapter of her life on such good terms.

He pulled away and left without a word. Carrie grinned as she watched him go, stuffing the notebook back into her purse; she'd read it later, in private… after she was done writing the biggest story of her life.

"You know, I met Rita Repulsa once," Skull said importantly as the tour bus careened down the slow lane at roughly ninety miles an hour.

"Me, too," Bulk added quickly.

"Really," Don said, rolling his eyes as a Skull jerked into the middle lane. A minivan full of kids in soccer uniforms honked and the mother behind the wheel flipped them off. Skull waved cheerfully at them and swerved back out of her way. Don groaned. "You should really think about installing seatbelts back here."

"Seatbelts are for wimps," Bulk scoffed.

"Yeah, no one uses those anymore," Skull agreed.

"I'm a cop. You probably shouldn't tell me that," Don reminded him dryly.

Skull shrugged, now looking intently at a red Buick in the fast lane. "Hey, is that your aunt Helen, Bulk?"

"I don't know. Get closer."

Skull leaned his head out the window. "HI, BULK'S AUNT HELEN!" he screamed.

"Guys, that's a fifty-year-old Italian man," Don said faintly. "I doubt it's Aunt Helen."

"No, it kind of looks like her." Bulk squinted. "Oh, wait, you're right. That's not my aunt Helen."

"Oops," Skull said sheepishly. He leaned his head back out the window. "HI, FIFTY-YEAR-OLD ITALIAN MAN!" Skull swerved into the slow lane accidentally. More horns honked; Don was starting to feel like he was in a horror movie about killer geese. Bulk took the wheel and twisted it back into the middle lane; the fifty-year-old Italian, who'd been trying to change lanes at this point, crammed his brakes. Another car smacked into him, the soccer mom Skull had upset earlier smashing into the second car.

"Jeez," Skull said sadly as he continued off down the interstate. "The way people drive these days. Poor guy."

"Yeah, poor guy," Bulk said vaguely.

"Yeah. Not only is he a bad driver, but he looks like your Aunt Helen."

Don grit his teeth, wishing he could close his eyes but too afraid they'd miss the exit and prolong his time in this hellish vehicle.

After a power nap, and then a few espressos and a couple of Red Bulls to shake off the grogginess caused by the power nap, Don had met back up with Bulk and Skull at Club Bulkmeier. They had insisted on driving, and since they'd seemed more awake than he was, he let them.

He had never made a bigger mistake before in his life.

He'd spent the first ten minutes of the drive screaming his head off and clinging to a metal pole bolted to the floor of the tour bus. Then Skull, who was driving, had turned around to give him a lengthy lecture about distractions during road trips, while Bulk held the wheel.

If Don hadn't been in the van, but rather sitting in a patrol car on the side of the highway, he would have given Skull about twelve different traffic tickets and probably taken him in for drunk driving, no matter what the breathalyzer read.

This will all be worth it soon, Don reminded himself desperately as the tour bus flew towards Reefside. They'd check out the leads Carrie had given them. Maybe speak to a few of Oliver's colleagues other than Randall. And, given the fact that Oliver was on vacation… well, Don wouldn't mind having a look at his house. Not that he wanted to break in or anything; he was, after all, a cop, and he was investigating something he shouldn't while well outside his jurisdiction. But he'd like to case the place. See if he could find anything suspicious around the perimeter.

He had Walter's story, and Carrie's leads, and a couple of guys who were very tight with Captain Stone (should anything go wrong, he could probably get out of it).

Before long, the entire world would know that Tommy Oliver was the Green Ranger, and they'd have Don to thank…

"Skull, what have I told you about driving on the shoulder?"

"Sorry, Bulky."

…provided Don didn't die on the way to Reefside.

Jason hammered the "code knock" from their Ranger days on Tommy's door. Despite the fact that Tommy had a horrible memory, he recognized it instantly and pulled the door open.

"Conner called me. He, Billy, Zack and Ethan are meeting up at your place to wait for us," Tommy reported without preamble as he returned to the bathroom to finish his hair. While many people could get dressed and ready for the day in under twenty minutes, Tommy could shower, dress, groom and pack a briefcase in under five; it was one of the many skills learned by the chronically late. By the time Jason arrived, he'd already taken a shower (which had slowed him down considerably, as "shower" was now synonymous with "naked Kim"), talked to Conner on the phone, gotten dressed and completed every other hygiene ritual save the important process of spiking the hair.

"Where are they going to stash the bellhop uniforms?" Jason asked dryly.

"Hopefully nowhere near me," Tommy replied with a smirk. He knew that, as a responsible teacher, he should be upset about their impromptu crimes, but at the same time he couldn't help being amused. Not only that, but, as Jason had said, on certain days, a Ranger of multiple colors woke up and found themselves having a certain type of day.

Tommy was having a Green day.

He wasn't in all green; his jeans were black cargo-style. Black—somehow, black just made him think of facing the past. And Green…

Green was what he wore on the days that he kicked ass in the truest sense of the phrase.

They were fixing this purse snatching mess, and fixing it well… but Tommy was fairly certain that the media wasn't what had caused his change in attitude. There was a fight coming, a different fight—probably metaphorical but possibly literal. And he was ready.

He wasn't sure what had set him off. Kimberly in the shower, Trini and Zack getting on his case, Carrie showing up, the realization that the world thought he was the wrong Ranger, finding the bellhops in the elevator, last night's freak accidents and humiliation… it didn't matter. Tommy no longer cared. He was just in the zone now, prepared for what his instincts were informing him was going to be a killer battle.

That's what happens when you get pissed enough, Tommy thought idly. You're forced to cope with so much that all of a sudden you decide that you're going to take whatever they give you and fling it back in their face… Oh, well. At least I'm not beating up bellhops and tying them up in elevators.

"We've got to get this Walter guy to change his tune," Jason continued, noticing the solid color affiliation and the aura around Tommy but choosing not to comment. Jason himself was feeling Red today. Very Red.

Tommy winced and concentrated on making certain his hair was finally done. He picked up one of his old earrings. He hadn't worn an earring around the Dino Rangers yet, but today he couldn't bring himself to care what they'd think about such a thing.

"Look, bro… I don't want to threaten the guy. I mean, I already kicked his butt twice, and—"

"Can't be any of us," Jason interrupted. "Too risky."

"Then who—?"

Jason held up his cell phone. A number was already displayed; he just had to hit send.

Tommy smirked. "Brilliant," he agreed, and slid the earring into his ear. The readiness swirling through his system increased, but he couldn't help being a tad nervous as well. This mess was almost over—or at least, probably so. Yet he felt completely certain that another fight was on its way.

They congregated together and quietly left the hotel, Tommy putting the top up on his Jeep so that they could all squeeze into it and talk without being heard. They told Trini and Kimberly about Zack. They told them about Billy.

And when it came time to tell them about Carrie…

"She knows who I am," Jason said simply. "She knows who we all are. Even the Dino Rangers."

"And you trust her not to squeal?" Trini demanded.

"I'm gonna have to, Trini. Unless you think one of us should assassinate her, it's too late. She already knows. But yeah, I trust her. Point is, she just saved our ass. Tommy, Zack and Kimberly have been deleted from the hotel registry. She's diverted the two cops who were getting suspicious. And she's told m—us everything Walter knows. It'll be fine, Trini. Or at least, it will be by the time the Sentinel releases its next edition." Trini sighed, unhappy but helpless to fix it.

Look," Kimberly said tentatively, "I know this is bad, but there's nothing we can do, right? So let's just get the hell out of here. We're heading to Stone Canyon today, right, Trini? Let's just go do whatever it was Trini was planning and have some fun. I'm not going to let something we can't control ruin our only week with each other and Billy and Zack and the Dino Rangers."

"You're right," Tommy muttered. "Besides, we've already sent someone to clean up the Walter mess. Keep him from talking."

"Who?" Trini asked.

Walter was still jumpy. The pain medication had helped some, but the knowledge that he'd managed to antagonize someone as scary as Tommy Oliver once again was quite terrifying. Back in high school he'd seen them all practicing martial arts together and fending off Bulk and Skull (who'd put Walter in a trashcan or a toilet bowl more than once), Tommy and Jason and Rocky and Adam and Kimberly and Billy and Trini and Aisha and Tanya and Kat…

And now people were saying that Tommy Oliver was the Black Ranger. He'd heard it from the hospital staff and from the morning news on the TV in his hospital room.

Just his luck. He couldn't just piss off a guy who knew how to fight. Oh, no. No, he had to piss off a superhero.

The room was silent as Walter stared glumly at the ceiling, wishing he hadn't been so stupid… and then a couple people in the hallway started arguing.

He sighed. This had happened a lot. Apparently reporters wanted to get a word with him… but other than that Carrie woman, no one had been allowed in save cops and hospital staff. Walter got the distinct feeling he was being watched by someone other than the cops; the same medical assistant had been visible outside his room all night and security guards kept walking by in the background whenever the door opened. Occasionally he'd hear someone demanding to be allowed in to question him, and another loud voice shooing them away… so it came as a complete surprise when the door swung inward. Walter yelped, turning to look, but the room was windowless and very dimly lit at the moment, so he couldn't see the man very well. Who would be barging into his room? The hospital staff and even the cops knocked before entering.

The door closed before he could get a good look at the man who entered. Walter breathed a sigh of relief; it was probably just a doctor, if they were shutting the door.

Then the lights came on, and he squinted, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. It wasn't a doctor. Oh, no. It was a tall, handsome, well-muscled black man with a shaved head and a chillingly polite smile. He was wearing street clothes, including leather gloves. Walter didn't like the looks of those gloves. They were the sort of gloves worn by people who didn't want to leave fingerprints on their murder weapons.

"Do you know who I am?" the man asked, spinning the lock until it clicked.

Walter shivered, eyes widening in horror as he realized just what was happening. Everyone in Angel Grove knew who this man was. Walter doubted there were many people in the world who didn't know this man. Walter knew he should feel honored, or at least awed… but suddenly all he felt was twice as terrified.

"Yes," Walter choked out.

Yes. He knew who this was.

T.J. Johnson.

Red Turbo Power Ranger, Blue Space Ranger, official spokesman for the Power Rangers. It was he who handled all deals with the merchandise companies, he who gave more public appearances than any of the other Space Rangers… he who was looking down at Walter in a distinctly creepy fashion, still smiling coldly.

"Good," T.J. said quietly. "That's real good."

"What do you want?" Walter whimpered.

"I want… to have a little talk."