CHAPTER ONE
A HAND IN THE NIGHT
Chicago, Illinois, 1995
“What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.” Psalm 56:3
The alley was dark and dank, the shadows reaching beyond its entrance moved across Caroline’s shoe. She tried her best to skirt away from its entrance, but there was no realistic way to avoid it. She clutched her purse near her heart knowing there was nothing of value to anyone but herself inside. Suddenly the hair on the back of her neck began to stand up and a scream built up in her lungs and was about to burst forth from her lips as a huge gloved hand efficiently silenced her cry. The man’s other arm wrapped around Caroline’s shoulders and she found herself totally immobilized. She tried to remain calm in the hope that an opportunity would present it’s self to escape from this stranger whose arm was even now cutting off her oxygen. As he threw her to the ground in the alley he snatched the purse from her hands, and decided that he had found a prize of more value than he had originally thought. Pulling her up by her collar he began to rip at her jacket and expensive silk blouse, then he heard her whisper softly “Jesus-help me”. Her terrified eyes saw a tall muscular man wearing a long brown hooded coat that effectively hid his face from her view. The man kicked her hard with his left foot and knocked her against a brick wall where she crumpled into a pile. With a small whimper of pain escaping her lips Caroline slipped into blessed unconsciousness. Her attacker had thought within himself it was pretty much going just the way he planned it, and it appeared that way until she had fainted. At the same time that Caroline was finding escape in unconsciousness; her attacker’s problems were just beginning in earnest. The large unsightly knife that he had held at her throat when he had snatched her and drug her into the alley had somehow sliced into her right shoulder, and she had bled all over his clothes. That could be a problem later, whether she lived or died, he considered carefully, if she lived, she might be able to identify him and the blood would be evidence against him. If she died he would be guilty of much more than assault, he would be a murderer. The thoughts were tumbling through his mind at an amazingly fast pace. “It doesn’t matter, either way I have to finish it now.” he muttered as he shrugged it all off for the moment. He noticed that his victim was regaining consciousness. She was trying hard to focus on a large black blur just behind her attacker. He seemed unaware of the blur and she wasn’t certain whether it was a friend or foe; angel or demon. Suddenly, a massive gloved hand reached around her assailant and twisted him around at a one hundred eighty degree angle, tossing him easily three feet away. The new man was well over six feet tall and towered in the shadows. The upper two thirds of his face and head were concealed by a black latex mask that was tied in the back. All one could see of his face were his dark glinting eyes and his full smiling lips. There was no fear in him, only a rage that had been too often repressed by the criminal justice system. This time he would get his man. The avenging angel, (as Caroline now thought of him) was advancing on her assailant. The attacker remembered his knife just in time to wave it threateningly at the man in black. Out flashed a foot, and then the hand of her avenging angel, and what followed was the most dazzling display of martial arts she had ever seen. The battle was on, the street fighter and the martial arts expert both fighting for all they were worth! The knife flew through the air and landed somewhere to the left of the alley and the assailant picked up a broken board swinging it at the man in black. Light that filtered into the alley glinted off of the black costume of her rescuer as the other man swung and fought back with all the anger and pent up violence of the streets. Still he could not make contact with the man who was keeping him away from his goal of the girl lying still upon some busted up cardboard boxes against the wall. Finally he picked up a brick and threw it at the man. With a quick flick of his gloved right hand the rescuer deflected the pathway of the brick and ducked, dodging the brick as the assailant grabbed his victim’s purse and ran from the alley. Blood had continued to ooze from Caroline’s shoulder and she was feeling weak and dizzy. She later remembered thinking that her guardian angel looked a lot like Zorro as she passed out for the second time.
The “avenging angel” whispered an expletive as he decided to let the assailant escape in order to return to the wounded victim on the cold concrete beside the building where she had fallen. He knelt down on one knee as he began a thorough assessment of her condition. He noticed the cut on her shoulder but her pulse was strong. Her respirations were regular and only slightly fast, but the he knew she could go into shock at any time if she continued to loose blood. He carefully peeled the soft silk blouse away from the wound and again cursed as he saw the large