The first night he went out Harry felt more like a criminal than a fighter for justice. Dressed in all black, including the ski mask, unless he stood under a street light on this moonless night, he blended in with the darkness.
He had witnessed several drug deals, on the north side of the city along the river, with a few of them ending up with some one dead, and never a cop in sight. On this night he chose to take a stand, and start reclaiming his city. There was no turning back now.
He lurked in the dark behind a broken down apartment building waiting for another drug deal to go down. At 1:00 AM a tall man in a red baseball cap walked up to the corner of the street, just like he did every night at the same time. From what little Harry heard, all of the buyers called him Stretch.
When Stretch pulled his hand out of his pocket and exchanged what was in his hand for money from a person standing in front of him, Harry crept behind Stretch and punched him in the kidney. Stretch crumpled to the ground while the buyer turned and disappeared into the night.
Harry quickly pulled out his stun gun and shocked him, leaving Stretch temporarily paralyzed. Harry dragged him behind the building to his car. Getting rope from the trunk, Harry tied Stretch’s hands behind his back and feet together, and lifted him into the backseat.
Harry drove over the bridge into the city, to station twenty-five in front of the city, his old station house. Harry sat Stretch leaning against the building with a note pinned to his sweatshirt: Time to clean up the city. Captain Steel.
Harry watched, from a distance, as two uniformed officer hulled Stretch into the station. It felt good to be back in action again, albeit vigilante style. Getting the city back wasn’t going to be easy, but Harry was ready for the fight.