Darkness...

    Ms. Mary Phillips knew one thing for sure... These 'Defenders' were rattled. Bad. Several of the children, worn out from the ordeal so far, were sleeping - though fitfully. She had gathered them as close to her as she could, once she heard the 'Defenders' offhandedly discussing putting them all to death.
    And that was when they were CALM.
    She fought back tears for the thousandth time today. The children needed someone to comfort them, and if she broke down they'd panic... She had to be strong. If these monsters were going to harm these children, it would be over her dead body. She choked back a sob again, because that was certainly going to be the case...

    "No, clearly not," pronounced Bobo. "You and the Shaman will go as the 'investigators' of the welfare of the hostages, and that is that..."
    "Are you crazy!?" Jim hissed. "I know the voice on that announcement... It's BRACKETT."
    "So?"
    "Listen, Bobo," stated Blair matter-of-factly, "If it IS Lee Brackett in there, he knows the BOTH of us. If we show up at the door, they'll start shooting on G.P. Which, bluntly, is NOT an option."
    "I'll go," offered Haas. "If they're really a terrorist group, then they'll want the media there to document things... I can take Jeff to run the camera, and that makes two out of three."
    "Mama said there'd be days like this," sighed Jeff, shouldering his camera. "I'm ready."
    "Who's the third person?" asked Al.
    Bobo pondered for a moment, then pointed. "You."
    Gizmo blinked in surprise, "Me?"
    "No time for parliamentary procedure, here," Bobo said levelly. "We'll be here all day if you decide amongst yourselves, and time is of the essence. Have you the mettle to descend into the lion's den?"
    "I... I think so. Thank you, sir."
    "Thank us? It is to laugh... This is no TV show, young man. This is not some videogame. If you fuck up, there's no depositing another quarter to continue... Do you understand?"
    "Y-yes sir. I'll do my best."
    "This pleases me... Now, while you're checking on the hostages, we will gain entry and defuse the situation."
    "Yes, WE will," announced Jim. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Fiendish..."
    Bobo turned. "And what makes you think that we need the likes of YOU? We already HAVE a diversion set up, Shaman. You'll only get in the way, and killed. Stay here and chant, like a good boy..."
    "Why you...," began Jim.
    "HOLD IT!" Blair interrupted. "Bobo, listen, it's like I said before... He's like you."
    "What does that MEAN, -exactly-?" asked Haas. Blair blanched.
    "He means," said Bobo staring at Jim. "That this man has... been extensively trained by the government. As we have."
    Jim's and Blair's jaws dropped in unison.
    "Is that not so, Shaman?" asked Bobo smiling conspiratorially. Jim and Blair nodded slowly, and Bobo held up his hands. "Good people... We embark on a perilous mission of liberation. We shall do all we can to bring back your little ones safe and sound, and PUNISH these scum as befits their scurrilous deed. What we ask is that you stay your hands for the nonce, and give us a moment of silence to offer up prayers to the Supreme Being of your choice for whatever aid they may offer. Should you have no such beliefs, we ask that you spend this moment in reflection on the lessons you have learned thus far."
    Every head bowed.

    A child sat up and rubbed his eyes... Looking around, he saw that all his friends from King Daycare were with him in wherever this was. "I-is everyone here?" he asked nervously.
    "Ms. Phillips isn't here, Sean," answered Connie. "Wherever here is..."
    "Do you think... it's heaven?" asked another child.
    "I don't think so, Jane," replied another girl.
    "Why do you say that, Carol?" Jane asked.
    "This doesn't look like heaven... It looks more like... I dunno. A jungle."
    "Besides," said a boy, "we can't go to heaven... Heaven's for dead people."
    A few of the other girls started crying. "Doggone it, Kelley, you doodie-head!" Sean scolded. "Toni, Kira, c'mon... Don't cry. It's okay... I think we might be dreaming..."
    "Like Nightmare on Elm Street?" asked Kelley. The girls started crying again.
    "I don't wanna meet Freddy!" Kira wails. "I wanna go home!"
    "Shut UP, Kelley-Smelly!" shouted Sean. "Don't listen to him, okay? He's a doodie-head."
    "O-okay," sniffed Toni. "But how are we all in each others dreams?"
    "Because, little one, we have brought you here..." boomed a voice from the thicket.
    "W-who are you?" asked Connie.
    "Call us... Mercy," said the voice.
    "M-Mercy?" asked Kira fretfully. "Y-you don't SOUND like a Mercy..."
    "Yeah!" said Jane. "Mercy's a girl's name, and you sound like a boy!"
    "A BIG boy," added Carol.
    "Heh," rasped Mercy. "You are brave, little ones... This pleases me."
    "How come you're hiding in the bushes, Mercy?" asked Kelley.
    "We are not. It is simply that we are... small. So small that we cannot be seen."
    "Small?" asked Sean. "With a loud voice like that?"
    "Our brothers are larger than ourselves, and so we are small. Like you. You have shown yourselves to be brave, but you must be braver still... Our brothers are coming."
    "Your brothers?" asked Jane. "Who are they?"
    "Eldest brother is Avenger. Second brother is Redeemer. We are the third, and it falls to us to give you little ones news... "
    "Are... are you the Angel?" asked Carol.
    "We are the third, that is all; and thus all we can say. But know this: Avenger and Redeemer are coming to you... Be not afraid. Though their fury is terrible, they shall not allow harm to come to you. Take heart, and awake!"

    Ms. Phillips gasped as silently as she could when her charges all sat up. Simultaneously.
    "Don't worry, Ms.. Phillips," Toni said calmly. "It'll be okay."
    "Yes," added Connie. "The Angel will save us."
    "H-how do you know?" asked Ms. Phillips.
    "He just told us he would," whispered Jane. "Pretty neat, huh?"

    "You bet your ass!" shouted Dawn Capp, defense attorney. "You bet your ass that I want to speak to who's in charge! NOW! How DARE you come into my office without a warrant! I'll have the bunch of you up on so many charges that you won't even be able to get a gig as a MALL GUARD."
    "ENOUGH!" commanded Megan. "Listen, you, I might not know how you Yanks do things, but in Auz we know enough to find out what's going on _before_ we start squawking."
    "Then go BACK to Oz, Dorothy. I knew it was only a matter of time before you police started harrassing me. Guess I'm too good at saving people from being railroaded, huh? I'll bet you and your jackbooted thugs are planting evidence or something, trying to discredit me. Well, there's no way that kinda Mark Fuhrman bullshit is gonna work on Dawn Capp, got me?"
    "Sit down and SHUT UP!" shouted the inspector angrily. "In about forty-five minutes, you and the rest of this city will go up in a ball of FIRE courtesy of some super-psychopath. See that copier? It's full of Semtex, and rigged to go off at FIVE..."
    "Bullshit. I just had that thing serviced this morning... Big fella, real friendly."
    "Well, it's not full of TONER, lady. Look for yourself."
    Dawn huffily stood and marched over to her copier and peered inside. She stepped back, totally aghast. "What the hell?" Suddenly, her beeper went off... "Who the hell is paging me, now? Hey! That's strange..."
    "What?" asked Megan.
    "The message. It says, 'Welcome to Bobo's Wild Ride... Strap in, you're caught.' What the hell does that mean?"
    "Inspector?" cut in one of the bomb techs. "Bad news..."
    "What now?" demanded Megan.
    "Well, ma'am, it seems that the 'surprise' just placed a call a few minutes ago... To a pager."
    Dawn's face fell. "W-what was the number?"
    "Uh, let's see," said the tech. "555-2740..."
    Dawn sank to her knees. "That's MY pager," she said sadly. "W-what the hell is going on?"
    Megan looked around, then gasped. One of the cameras had a GREEN light instead of a red one. The one over the front door. "Did you come in the front door?" she asked gently.
    "Y-yes... Why do you ask?"
    "Because the bastard rigged something to insure that YOU got to be part of the fun. Specifically, a remote keyed into your pager, or something similarly unobtrusive... For all -I- know it could be your bloody earrings, or your car keys..."
Dawn took her pager off and stood, "Well, if he wants to blow up my pager, he can; but I'm hitting the bricks."
    "No, you're not."
    "What the hell do you mean I'm not? You can't hold me here!"
    "The devil you say! That thing is a CAMERA. When you consider he made allowances to snare you, it stands to reason he'd make some to KEEP you, don't you agree, counselor? Say, for example, a trigger that would blow the works if your face showed in any of the cameras again?"
    "You don't know he did that!"
    "You don't know he DIDN'T. And I'm not about to bet the lives of everyone in this city on it either way. You WILL stay, and if I have to break off your goddamn LEGS to make certain of it, then so BE it. Like he said, counselor... Strap in for the Ride."
Dawn collapsed into a chair. "Why me?" she asked morosely.

    "Evil must be punished," announced Bobo. "Let's go..."
    "Uh, before you do, Mr. Angel...?" asked a small voice - that of Susan.
    "Eh?"
    "W-what should -we- do?"
    "Ah... It is to you. To all of you..." Bobo said sweeping about himself grandly. "To learn from the things we shall show you. Already you have come farther than anyone would have thought possible. You have learned to shun the temptations of ill-gained bounty from acts against each other, and become the Good People you always told yourselves you could NOT become. Further, you have prevented others from interloping upon your demesne, maintaining its purity and peace. But most importantly, you have all set aside the petty squabbles you once had to face as one the enemy to all of you. You have evolved. This pleases me..."
    "Can we get to the fuckin' POINT?" growled Jim heatedly.
    Bobo stared at Jim for a moment before he turned to Blair, "No flair for the dramatic, huh?"
    Blair lowered his head sadly. "No, clearly not."
    Bobo smirked and continued, "Heh. We will go and get the little ones, and we shall see to it that those who would harm them are punished... No matter WHAT, you are only to OBSERVE the events of the day. You are NOT to engage or hinder the enemy in any form unless we are DEAD. We are not DEAD until we SAY we are. Savvy?"
    Every head nodded.
    "Spiffy! Haas, you three go to the door and stall them. You're a reporter, ask them glib questions and distract them. Do nothing until we give you the signal, and when we do, the three of you put yourselves *between* their weapons and the hostages. Do NOT fuck that up. If -one- child is harmed by your lack of action, you'd better pick a god and pray, because we will NEVER get tired of hurting you."
    "W-what's the signal," asked Haas, ashen with fright.
    "You'll know it when it happens... Now shoo."

    "Alright, I'm going!" groused Brackett. "Sheesh... Just stay back there and look menacing, okay?"
    "Da," grunted Yuri. "We shall have no trouble from these..."
    "Whatever," sighed Brackett as he opened the door a crack. Who are you?"
    "I'm Gizmo, sir... We, uh, talked on the phone, remember?"
    "You come alone?"
    "No sir, I got this reporter dude with me, and a camera guy... Everyone's out there watching on those little TVs, so we know you're legit, see?"
    "Hmph. Turn off that camera."
    "Brother," said Jeff levelly. "That's -not- an option... If you're bashful, put on a hankie or something like Jesse James. But this camera stays on, period."
    "What? Who's the _armed radical_ here, pal? Did I not tell you to turn off that fuckin' camera? You wanna get SHOT? You wanna get one of these people shot? TURN OFF THE CAMERA!"
    "I can't, man."
    Haas stepped up quickly. "Listen, sir, we know you're serious with the cause and everything, but there's a LOT of people out there - with guns. You can either show them you're with them like it says on the CB, or you can see what about forty-thousand pissed off people will do to you... If that camera goes out, then the people out there will descend on this place like locusts on a wheatfield... They'd tear this whole *block* down on top of you a brick at a time. Sure, we'd be dead, and so would the hostages, but so would YOU."
    "What the hell happened to the cops?" asked Brackett.
    "Who knows?" shrugged Haas. "Last time I counted, there were only about 500 or so on duty at any one time. There's easily forty-THOUSAND people out there. Would YOU just rush in on odds like that? Personally, I won't even bet on a HORSE at eighty to one. Don't worry though... They're taking back the streets, just like you said... They're with you. Unless you'd like to give them a reason NOT to-"
    "Fine," grimaced Brackett. "As you can see, the hostages are in excellent shape. We would never REALLY harm kids, you know... Right, PARTNER?"
    Yuri coughed, and then nodded. Once.
    "Well, great... Mister, uh, Gizmo will make sure you haven't hurt anyone, and you can maybe give the world a statement...?" said Haas, slipping into reporter-mode. "For example, what makes you think the Dark Angel is a boogeyman the cops invented?"
    "The facts are that people have been getting murdered. Sure, these people were what could be called criminals, but they were just doing they best they could to survive... The police have always resented the fact that the courts and law offer protection to the people from their callow thuggery behind the facade of Law and Order. So they create some mythical roaming monster to use as a smokescreen... A scapegoat. It's nonsense."
    Haas coughed, and then nodded. Once. "Do go on..."

    "THROUGH the WALL?" gasped Jim and Blair, unable to believe their ears.
    "For certain," replied Bobo as he put on a glove. "The palm of this glove is a plate of black iron a half inch thick, connected to a solid gauntlet slipping over and around the wrist..."
    "Listen you crazy bastard, that's reinforced concrete!" protested Jim. "You'd need a bigger bat than a slap-glove to knock a hole in it..."
    "Yes, we know," replied Bobo. "That's why we have THIS!"
    "A -tuning fork-?" gaped Blair, incredulous.
    "Of course," said Bobo striking it on the concrete, then holding it on the wall.
    "You really have gone stupid, haven't you, you fuckin' LOON?" spat Ellison angrily. "I can't believe we FOLLOWED you over here like this... Those kids are DEAD."
    "SILENCE!" shouted Bobo. "The world is more than such as YOU can comprehend, 'Shaman'. There is more to life than what can be seen, more to reality than what you can hold in your hand. If you indeed possess the power that we do, then you must know that there is more to existence than even OUR senses could process... A wall is only as strong as its weakest point. Look to your HISTORY. The nazis used specific cadences in their goosestepping to collapse BRIDGES. A trick invented by HANNIBAL. THINK, man! Listen... Listen to the sound of this wall under the tone of this fork... But not with your ears... With every fiber of your body."
    "But the zone-out factor...," interjected Blair. "It would incapacitate him to concentrate on a specific sense as hard as you say..."
    "Nonsense! EXCUSES!" growled Bobo. "How are you to learn when you won't even LISTEN? Sound travels through the AIR, you FOOL. As such, sound can be FELT - and each TONE has a specific TEXTURE if one can -discern- it, as WE can. When we strike the fork and hold it on the wall, the wall responds with a specific harmonic. Where that report is DIFFERENT is where it is WEAK. -LEARN-."
    "Wow, I should be writing this DOWN!" gushed Blair.
    "Don't encourage him...," grumbled Ellison.
    "We agree... He should be encouraging YOU," sniffed Bobo drily. "Before we begin, are you right-handed or left?"
    "Huh? I'm right-handed. Why?" asked Ellison.
    "We are ambidextrous. It makes sense to accommodate you by allowing you to play to your strong side, in this case left. One of the scum is to the far left, in the corner. The other is, of course, to the right - near our diversion. When we enter the building, we will have at least one second of pure surprise. We shall capitalize on same, which should buy us - meaning ourselves and you - enough time to close ranks and put the puppy to bed..."
    "HOLD IT!" demanded Ellison. "How the fuck do you know there's only TWO of them?"
    "We can see them, of course... The large red shape to your right is our-"
    "What the-?" broke in Blair. "You can see INFRARED?"
    "Sure," said Bobo. "Ultraviolet, too. Why? Can't HE?"
    Jim and Blair lowered their heads.
    Bobo sighed. "NORMAL people are limited to the frequency of light that they can perceive. WE are not." Bobo looked Jim up and down. "NOT meaning ourselves and you, apparently. Let's guess... Far seeing, magnification, and light enhancement?"
    "Yeah, exactly!" Blair replied happily. "How did you know?"
    "We've been doing THOSE little tricks since we were in SHORT PANTS," Bobo replied. "You're a late bloomer, aintcha?"
    "Fuck you," retorted Ellison. "Let's just do this..."
    "Fine," smiled Bobo as he struck the fork. "Remember. We'll lengthen the surprise. You'll have five seconds to go thirty feet. Go WIDE left, or you'll step on the children, which are six paces straight ahead. Little Brother, if the half-ass fucks up and trips or something, back him up. No second chances here... Ready?"
    "Ready," replied Jim and Blair.
    Bobo pulled his hand back and closed his eyes... "Set?"
    "Set," they whispered in reply.

    "And go as far as they wish, with no regard for the civil rights of the people...," continued Brackett, praying he didn't start laughing and squirrel up the presentation. "It is obvious that the people have had enough, and have gathered in support of our cause."
    "They're not out there because of you - they're out there FOR you," said a small voice.
    "Huh?" Brackett blurted. "Who said that?"
    "I did," said the voice. "My name is Kelley"
    "I don't give a FUCK what your NAME is, boy!" Brackett shouted, instinctively raising his weapon.
    "DON'T HURT HIM!" Mary begged, pulling Kelley down. "H-He's been through alot... He doesn't know what he's saying!"
    "Yes I do, Ms. Phillips," Kelley said. "All those people are here because of the Angel. Not THOSE dummies."
    "The Angel, huh?" Brackett scoffed, lowering his weapon. "Well, kid, we've been here two hours... Where is he? HUH? Where _is_ your GOD DAMNED Angel?"
    The wall exploded, and a blur flew through the air, letting fly with something in two directions...
Brackett and Yuri raised their weapons, and were hit with a cinderblock apiece. They fell, knowing their weapons were ruined - along with their plan... Yuri found himself grabbed up and shoved against the wall by none other than Jim Ellison. Brackett was hauled to his feet by his throat and held aloft by something else... He looked down, trying to see what had him in that iron grip...
    "Hello, my intended," it said. "Let's go outside and play..."