Framed

[GretSword]

“He’s got my gun!” yelled out the bright haired man, as he got back on his feet.
I ran, ran faster than I thought I could ever run. Fear does that to you, after all. It’s the adrenaline, it boosts every muscle in your body to a whole new level beyond your wildest expectations. I remember there were times when me and her would sit down near a table and discuss things like that for hours, and the times when me and her would experience it out on the field. But it never worked as intensively and as energetically as it did now.

I found a large wooden crate, the kind used for storing and shipping airplane engines. I hid behind it. I pressed my back against the crate, my shoulder tightened, the gun held firmly in my left hand and clutched close to my chest. I made it, I’ve arrived at the dock. But he was supposed to meet me at a specific point, and that wasn’t it. Still, getting there means getting out of hiding, and that wasn’t going to happen so fast.
“Team 1, team 2, spread out!” yelled the voice I’ve learned to know and run from ever since that adventure began, “He’s armed and extremely dangerous. He won’t hesitate to kill! Use extreme caution!”

Footsteps, first steady and fast, then slow, and then silence. “We know you’re behind that!” called out the same voice, “I’ve got my gun pointed at the crate. Drop your weapon and come out with your hands in the air!”
I knew he wasn’t kidding. Not with his weapon. His gun would hit the crate, go through whatever was in it, exit the crate, go through me, go through the bulldozer 100 feet in front of me and end its route somewhere inside the cruise ship on the other side of the dock. I had to think fast, thankfully that’s something everybody always said I could do. I decided to stall. “I didn’t do it Eric!” I called out, “It’s not me!”
Eric didn’t believe me, and why should he? I never had anything to prove my innocence, someone made sure of that. “All evidence is pointing your way, get out and I guarantee you’ll receive a fair trial!” he shouted, that got had a lot of air.
Maybe I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Billy Cranston, and I’m a fugitive murderer. I’ve been running away from too many people over the last week. Oh, and one more thing, I’m innocent.

[The_LastGuardian]

hmm interesting i would like to see more of this fic

[GretSword]

Chapter 1

It all began when I left Aquitar. Ever since the accelerated aging that forced me to leave Earth, I have been living on Aquitar, planet made completely out of water. I can tell you one thing about that, I was sure as hell happy I got over my fear of fish a few years before, or I would’ve likely blacked out the moment I looked out Cestria’s window. Ever looked out the window and saw a crow or a dove flying around the sky? Well, try to imagine that, but instead of the sky think about the bottom of the ocean, and instead of a flying dove think about a hammerhead shark. Get the picture?

So why did I leave, you ask? Call it home-sickness, I guess. I missed Earth, and besides, things weren’t going to good with Cestria either, so I needed some space. Several light years did the trick. And so, after much consideration, I took the shuttle when last time back to Earth. Thinking of a short trip, maybe meeting some friends, who knows? Just my luck, I guess.

The journey itself wasn’t too bumpy. You see, the people of Aquitar require water to survive, and their shuttles have a built-in mechanism that fills the cockpit with water. Which is perfect, as long as you have gills. I once nearly drowned in one, made me customize my shuttle to dry-environment. It took me a few days, but I safely made it back to Earth. The date was December 28th, 2006.

Call me a hopeless romantic, say I live in the past, I don’t mind, but if there was one thing on Earth I missed more than being a Power Ranger, was being around her. Her smile, her unbelievable charisma, her humble presence that never failed to amaze me. She was the only other human being who ever understood me. I guess you know of whom I’m talking about.

I stashed the shuttle in Jeremiah Lake, that place has been deserted for so many years, I managed to find some of my old tracks back from almost 17 years ago, when I had a road trip with my classmates, and got lost. Miss Appleby, my teacher, found me with the help of some woodcutters before nightfall. That’s not the only thing I remembered about that trip. She was so wildly amazed by the beauty and serenity of that place, that she kept saying how she’s going to live around there when she grows up. That’s another thing I always liked about her, even as a kid, when she set her mind on something, the world could turn upside down and she still won’t change her mind. I never had the stomach to be so stubborn.

So, I ended up renting the region’s “Maximum Vacation Package”, as the men in that cabin called it. It was basically a one-week rental of a car, a cell phone with all the region’s emergency numbers, a region ‘s map, a few smaller-scale maps, a phone book, fliers with advertisements of most attractions and a few other “goodies”. Again, the men in that cabin said that, “goodies”. Twenty miles up the same road, I saw a sign reading “Treeville”. According to the map, it didn’t get much closer to Jeremiah Lake than Treeville.

Using the phonebook, I found out my intuition was right – She did live in Treeville, and she did have a registered phone number and address. Of course, she was always organized to the tiniest detail. I wanted to surprise her, so I skipped the alerting phone call and drove right to her house. It was located at the far end of the town, a private house. The house was painted white, with 4 front windows on the first floor, and 2 front windows at the second. I couldn’t see the other windows, as trees blocked my sight. The roof was somewhere between brown and purple, couldn’t really put the line there. The cement trail to the house was covered from both sides by a beautiful yard, with green grass, fresh and sparkling. Right next to the house was a garage, its door was closed, but a silver van with tinted windows lied before it. I stopped the car and shut the engine. I walked over to her door, and knocked.

I heard a faint voice yelling “Coming!” and waited. I heard a key being turned in the lock, and then the doorknob tilted to the right. And there she was, standing before me, she looked almost the same, has it really been that long? For a moment, none of us spoke. We used to be best friends, compadres, if you wish. After the awkward moment came to a stop, she slightly opened her mouth and mumbled “Billy?”
I smiled, her quiet yet powerful presence was featured in her voice, just as always. I looked at her, and with a joyful impersonation of her shocked voice, I said: “Trini?”

Eventually, she let me in. The door led straight to her living room. She showed me to the couch, but before sitting down herself, she asked: “Would you like you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”
I gestured her that she shouldn’t bother, “Thanks, but I’m sort of custom to water.”
She let out a smile, her famous smile that narrowed her eyes symmetrically, “Then water it is!”
She left the room and went to where I suppose was her kitchen. I took the liberty the browse around. Trini’s house was more like I imagined it than I thought. At least half a dozen gold trophies and medals at Kung Fu contests around the world decorated a shelf hanging around the height of my eyes, though the most recent one dated 2003. On her elliptical wooden table were several things, such as a pencil lying on top of a piece of paper with something written on it, a few candies on a steel plate, a folder with a black and red compass printed on the front, a handkerchief and a remote control to the air conditioner.

I heard the glasses shaking on a tray, and sat back on the couch. Trini walked in, gave me a glass and took the other one. She then sat down, she was the first one to start talking.
“What are you doing here? I heard you were on Aquitar.”
“Well, I’m back for a visit. And what about you, I see you managed yourself in life?”
“Ever doubted it?”
“Of course not.”
“So what’ve you been doing on Aquitar?”
“Well, I got married, I helped the Aquitans with some of their problems. And they taught me many things in return.”
“Sounds great. How did you know where to find me?”
“You remember the road trip to Jeremiah Lake? Well, I did.”
“Oh yeah, sure I do. Your memory is still impeccable.”
“And what about you? What have you been up to all these years?”
“Well, here and there, I guess.”
“You’re obviously doing pretty good. With this house, and that van outside.”
That’s when I stopped. Trini’s face lost their color in the matter of moment, her eyes widened, and she lost a grip on her glass, causing it to fall on shatter on the floor. She got up as if a wasp stung her. I got up, startled. She took me by the wrist and pulled me to the door, using strength I never imagined she had.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to slow her down.
“I just remembered something. Sorry, but you must go.” She said, I was out the door by the time she finished the sentence.
“Are you alright?” I asked. She didn’t answer.
The last thing she did, before shutting her door and locking what sounded like at least 4 locks, was saying: “I’m sorry.”

“Trini come on!” I called, knocking on her door fiercely. “Come on let’s talk.” She didn’t answer. I tried ringing the bell, but no good. I tried dialing her number, but the phone kept ringing inside. I tried knocking some more, but it was in vain. I walked over back to my car, and right after giving her house a final concerned glimpse, I drove off.

That night, in the Bell Motel where I stayed at room 23, I couldn’t sleep. I was terrified by Trini’s comment, I never seen her so edged before. People change, I said to myself. Still, there had to be a logical reason as to why she acted this way. Maybe she really did remember something, and was in so much rush that she had no choice but to ask me to leave. Too many questions. I fell asleep several minutes before dawn.

I woke up to the sound of a hand knocking on my door. I looked tat my wristwatch, the hour was 9:00 AM, who would want to bother me? I noticed I was still wearing the clothes from the other day. I got up and answered the door. In front of me stood two people, a man and a woman, both in their early thirties. They were dressed up in business suits, though not the expensive kind you would find in designer’s stores.
“Yes?” I asked, as if they were waiting for me to start.
“Billy Cranston?” the man asked.
“Yes?” I said again.
“My name is Detective Jack Longbow, this is Detective Rona Jacobs. We wonder if you could come with us down to the station house?” said the man, grabbing a hold on my arm.
“Why?” I asked.
“Trini Kwan was found dead one hour ago. We would like to ask you some questions.”
“What?!”

[GretSword]

Chapter 2

To tell you the truth, I don’t remember the next few hours. When I finally made my way back to what still didn’t look like reality, it was 1 PM. I was in a cold, suffocating room. The walls were painted gray, though it was peeling in several areas. On the far end of the room, where there should’ve been a wall, was a mirror. I was seating on a chilling steel chair, next to a chilling still table, in front of even more chilling detectives. There was no mistaking that, I was in an interrogation room.

Call me paranoid, but I had a feeling I was in for more than just “some questions”. The male detective, Longbow, rested his thigh on the corner of the table. The woman, Jacobs, was leaning against a wall. I had no idea how long have they interrogated me already, but by the look on their faces, I didn’t tell them much. And what could I tell them anyway? “Yeah, sorry but I haven’t killed my best friend. I have no idea who did or why, as well as no clue why she kicked me out of her house. Now if you excuse me, I would like to fly away on my shuttle back to my amphibian wife.” Sure, that would work like charm.

Since I was sitting, Detective Longbow bent a bit, so his eyes were only slightly higher than mine, and that’s when he said the question he must’ve been dying to ask for all the hours I was spaced-out. “Have you killed Trini Kwan?”
“No.” I answered, conclusively.
“And I say you have!” he said, slamming his fist against the table.
“Tough.” I said, not really impressed by his demonstration of aggression.
“Could you tell us where were you around 4 AM to 6 AM?” asked Detective Jacobs, who showed a milder temper than her partner. Good cop/Bad cop, do they really use that system?
“At the same room you guys took me from.”
“We have a witness putting you in Kwan’s house at 8 PM.”
“So?”
“So, we were tipped off that you might have a reason to kill her.” Said Longbow, stretching the brown tie on his neck. It did get pretty hot in that room.

And that’s when he burst in. Wearing stylish navy suit with a buttoned white shirt and a carefully tied navy tie. His short hair loose, and his Asian eyes showed responsibility and maturity. Even had I been on Aquitar, I could tell what’s his business. After all, there are only 2 things shared among all planets and all intelligent beings, local or extraterrestrial, and that’s love and lawyers. And sure enough, my hunch was right.
“Kai Chen, attorney at law.” He said, taking out his ID.
Detective Longbow looked surprised, to say the least. He snatched the ID off of Kai’s hand, and closely examined it. “Mirinoi? You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”
“Does it matter? My license applies to both planets. Now, why are you holding my client here?”
Even though I clearly knew of whom he was talking about, I still looked around. No, nobody else here, he must be here for me. Why is he here for me? And why is that name so familiar to me?
“I don’t recall your so called client ever asking for a counselor.” Said Jacobs, crossing her arms.
“Do you want a lawyer?” Kai asked, I nodded, “See? He wants a counselor.”
If Detective Longbow’s vein could’ve grown any bigger, it would’ve happened that moment. Kai’s attitude and wit annoyed him to no end.

Detective Jacobs straightened up, she fixed her glasses and extended her hand towarc Kai. “Hopefully we can have your corporation during the investigation.”
Kai politely shook her hand, but his expression remained still as stone. “As long as you don’t harass my client anymore. Now, do you have any evidence against my client?”
“No.”
“Are you going to charge him right now?”
“No.”
“Then release him at once.”
I was shocked. Not even in movies had I seen a lawyer wraps two cops, detectives no less, around his finger that easily. It was simply mind blowing. The two detectives left the room, Jacobs on her tiny steps, and Longbow in such heavy steps I feared he was going to fracture the floor.

As we left the police station, and the Homicide Division, we went by what looked like a small war zone: a chair upside-down on the floor, a huge pile of papers tossed all over the place, drawers were pulled off their rails, and whatever happened to the coffee was to grotesque to mention.
Kai, who walked by my side, couldn’t really care less. He just said: “I have that affect on detectives from time to time. Detective Longbow really should try that anger management therapy.”
“You little piece of…” called out Longbow, who stopped mid-sentence, probably by his fellow officers.
“Yes, I know.” Said Kai, sarcastically.

Once we were outside, Kai led me to the underground parking lot. He reached town into his jacket, and took out a set of key and remote. He pressed the right button on the remote, and brand new Honda’s headlights lightened up. The car beeped, and Kai directed me toward it. He got in the driver seat, while I took the passenger seat. He shifted the key in the ignition, and started the engine. A few stirring wheel turnings later, and we were outside the parking lot. Kai raised a pair of stylish sunglasses from the open gloves-compartment, and put them on. He then asked: “So… you speak English?”
It was only then that I realized I didn’t speak a single word since I saw him for the first time. “Sure. Thanks for the rescue there, can I go now?”
Kai’s upper lip straightened up, giving him a disfigured smiling expression. “Only if you want to jump off a moving car.”
That’s when it struck me. Of course I knew who he was, there was a reason why his name was so familiar to me. Almost five years ago, Aurico had a mission involving him and other Red Rangers to the moon. Kai Chen was the name of a Ranger from Leo’s team.

Kai read my expression, a prized skill shared among the finest lawyers. “Look Billy, I’m a retired Ranger, just like you, alright? I’m here today as your attorney and nothing else.”
Slowly, I gathered myself. One of the strongest people I ever knew died today. I was probably one of the last people who saw her, minus the one who killed her. But why was she killed, how was she killed, who killed her, why the cops think I did it, and why the hell does Kai Chen represent me?
“Who hired you?”
“Nobody,” he said, not letting his eyes off the road, “I’m doing this as a favor.”
“To me?”
“No.” he said conclusively.
Great, another mystery to look at, though that one wasn’t really in my priority. “What can you tell me?”
“About what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow above his shades.
“Well, about… you know… her…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it, not at that moment anyway. Kai demonstrated how observant he was yet again.
“How she died?” he asked, I nodded, “You really want to hear that?”
I nodded again.
“Consecutive impaling traumas to the lower torso.”
“So, in other words, you mean she was stabbed several times in the stomach?”
Kai laughed a bit, and said: “It’s true what they say, your vocabulary is exceptional. Yes, she was stabbed 7-8 times in the stomach, she bled to death.”
He didn’t even bother saying she didn’t suffer much. That would be a lie, and he knew he couldn’t fool me. Death caused by wreck of tissues and loss of blood in the stomach is a slow and painful death. I couldn’t shake the image of her face from my head, her body turning numb, her expression fading away. Even though I wasn’t there, I felt responsible.

We drove for 40 minutes straight, and stopped right next to a church. Kai stopped the engine and took out the key. He put the key back to the hidden pocket in his jacket, and patted it.
“Why are we here?” I asked him, but he didn’t answer. He just handed me a business card, with the words “Kai Chen, Attorney at Law” printed on it, along with two phone numbers (one for Earth and one for Mirinoi), an E-mail, a cell phone number, and a nice golden logo at the upper left corner with what seemed to be a gorilla face.
“Contact me whenever you need me. Now, get out.” He ordered.
I quickly complied. I left the car and shut the door behind me. I didn’t get as far as 3 feet, and he already drove off.

To be completely honest, even before I left to Aquitar, I rarely visited the church. Maybe my scientific approach is to blame, I never did have much faith in god. The closest thing I ever met to divine was Zordon, and he was gone as well. Still, the church looked just like I thought it would: windows decorated with paintings of Jesus, Mariah, Joseph, and many other holy symbols. Lines of wooden benches covered most of the church’s space, stopping 10 feet from the stage. I was so fascinated by the place that I didn’t notice the person who came behind me.
“Her funeral will be held tomorrow morning.”
I turned around so fast, I felt a cramp in my thigh. But when I saw who said that, I didn’t care. All I could say was “You?”

[Angelfox]

Awesome...musta run into Tommy

[GretSword]

Chapter 3

Eric Myers switched off the radio when the phone rang. He picked it up, putting up his usual impatient “Yes?” only to be informed with possibly the biggest case he ever got. “Thank you, I’ll get right on it.” He hung up.

Eric took the red beret just before leaving the office. Ever since the Silver Guardians went through the change by the end of 2002, in which the organization turned from providing security and protection, to crime solving and suspect apprehension, Eric only had one case that started in a similar fashion. It was the car crash that involved the death of Max Cooper and Danny Delgado, but due to lack of evidence, that case was closed and titled “accident”.

“Where the hell is Wes?” he asked their secretary, a bright haired girl named Kira Ford who claimed she only worked there to save enough money for her music tour.
“He took a break five minutes ago, you know. Why, what’s wrong?” she asked him, paying Eric only a bit more attention than she paid to her stapler.
“Break’s over. I’m out for the rest of the day Ms. Ford, we’ve got a big case. Finish us… whatever you’re doing here, and you’re excused for the rest of the day.” He said, while strapping the holster of his Quantum Defender shut using both hands. Wes could easily do it with only one hand, Eric never quite figured that out.
“Sure.” She answered, focusing back on her stapler.

Eric stormed off the main Silver Guardians building as his hand reached for his shirt pocket. Just as he realized his car keys were missing, a blue SUV drove in. Wes stopped the car, and stepped outside. He tossed the car keys back to Eric with his right hand, and dropped the cigarette he held in his left one, turning it off by rubbing it against the road with his shoe.
“Didn’t I tell you not to smoke in the car?” asked Eric.
“Didn’t I tell you to start wearing a suit to work? What’s up with the uniform anyway?” asked Wes, gazing his eyes over Eric’s body, which was covered in his old navy Silver Guardian uniform.
“Discipline, young Mr. Collins.” Answered Eric. He tossed the key back to Wes’s hand, and took a seat at the passenger seat. “You’re driving today.”
Wes just sighed, put his common nonchalant smirk and went back into the car, igniting the engine while mumbling: “Whatever you say, partner.”

“Where are we going anyway?” asked Wes after leaving the parking lot. His arm vibrating a bit as if he already wanted another smoke. Though one look at the angry, metallic Q-Rex head on Eric’s gun was enough to calm his desire for nicotine, for a few moments.
“Treeville. It’s in the map, believe me, I checked.” Said Eric, his elbow leaning against the window, his eyes watching… whatever men of Eric’s complicated nature would watch. “We have another former Ranger death, Trini Kwan, she’s actually the very first Yellow Ranger.”
Wes’s eyes narrowed under his sunglasses, “Is this another accident they call us to investigate, since there isn’t any other authority for Ranger issues?”
“Hardly,” said Eric, his head still, his nose almost sticking to the window. “And wait, it gets better. Guess who the prime suspect is?”
Wes pulled his shoulders, “Why don’t you just tell me, huh?”
“Billy Cranston. He was the very first Blue Ranger. It also turns out he dropped off the face of the Earth, literally, for around 10 years.” Replied Eric, smiling an unusual smile at Wes.
“Innocent until proven guilty, I guess.” Said Wes, turning his eyes from the road.
“Watch the road.” Said Eric, Wes quickly complied, “Yeah sure, but we still need to do some detective work. Oh and Wes?”
“Yeah?”
Eric turned his head back at the window, focusing back on that invisible spot at the end of the horizon. “Don’t call me partner.”
And so the two drove off.

“Go away! Go away!” she cried in agony, as the never ending images of old memories hit her like tidal waves, over and over again. The burned faces faded away as felt a firm grip tightening around her shoulder and shaking her, almost as if driving away the evil ghosts that still held a reign of terror in her soul. That of course, was only temporary.
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you alright?” asked the owner of the hand that held her shoulder. The man let go of her shoulder as soon as he saw her waking up.
“Sure Jeremy, I’m good. Just fell a sleep.” She said, while letting her sleepy eyes adjust to the fluorescent light engulfing the back of the truck. She slowly gained her senses and began examining the already familiar details. Jeremy, her young enthusiastic assistant sat on the bench right next to her. A stretcher was folded, standing vertically, almost disguising its negative nature as a body bag. In the glass, transparent drawers laid no less than two dozens of different tools and devices existing for the sole point of assisting people of their line of work in their business. The back of the truck was completely separated from its front, meaning the driver could neither see nor hear whatever they were doing there, which is probably for the best. The only link was a gray telephone nailed to one of the walls, just in case any side needed to let the other in on any piece of information.

Her navy vest hung on the fire extinguisher. It was opened and turned inside out, but she remembered what was written on it. On the back, the letters stated in white and bold: “Silver Guardians”. On the front, where she would zip the vest around her torso, it mentioned, you guessed it, in the same bold and white font: “Medical Examiner”. She always found that term amusing. A rather politically correct fashion of saying “Coroner”, “Dr. Corpse”, “Doctor for the dead” and many other cute nicknames. Of course, she wasn’t always this way. She was once a pediatrician, once, in her long gone past. She can’t do it again, she will not be able to sustain such a tragic incident again. In all her life, even when she was saving the world, she never faced such a terrifying thing as the thing that made her throw away her dream for becoming a surgeon for dead bodies.

The phone rang, Jeremy picked it up before it had a chance to ring for the second time. “Yes? Alright, we’ll be prepared.” He hung up, and turned to his superior co-worker, “We’re there, we need to get ready.”
“Sure thing.” She said, and began getting the paperwork ready for their next case. She was tired, on the edge of unconsciousness. But she knew, she knew if she falls asleep again, the faces are bound to return.
“Ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying that, you look like some of our clients. Are you getting enough sleep?” asked Jeremy, showing true concern.
“Jeremy, we’re coroners. If we knew how to help keeping people alive, we wouldn’t have been doing that.” She replied, he knew not to push on her any further.

She turned the doorknobs and left the van, zipping her vest along the way. The police were everywhere, scattering around the crime scene like roaches. Jeremy, who followed her with the stretcher, now unfolded, made a comment about what are the odds the police didn’t sabotage the murder scene. She didn’t get a chance to contemplate on that, as she was approached by a police officer who clearly felt enough confidence to act stupid enough and say: “Lady this is a restricted area, would you mind going back behind the yellow line?”
She let out half a smile, “Dana Mitchell, medical examiner, Silver Guardians. Where is the body?”

[GretSword]

Chapter 4

“Yes”, he said, “Is my presence here so unpredictable?”
I looked at him, and immediately had to recheck to see if the church was empty. Clad in his black robe, strapped in a golden belt and donning a pin shaped like a lightning bolt, his presence could not stick out more. Of course, the greatest give-away was the upper part of his head, which was similar to purple fish scales.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, while grabbing him by the collar of his robe and forcing both of us to duck, just in case someone does come inside.
Cestro, the Blue Ranger of Aquitar, looked around a bit, and then pointed at the door. “The Phantom Ranger has delivered us the information regarding the uncanny death of Trini, it is time for you to come back to Aquitar.”
I took my hand off of his robe, and stepped back while still staying low for nobody to see me. “What?”
“The Phantom Ranger transported me here. He is waiting outside with his hidden ship, he will take us back to Aquitar.”
“But… I can’t go…” I mumbled, I only mumble in times when I’m extremely stressed, and that was one of those times.
“Staying on Earth is not an option anymore, Billy. You’ve been targeted by many people who see you responsible to Trini’s demise.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Indeed you say so, and I trust you. Humans on the other hand tend to assume things very fast. Please Billy, you must come with me.” He urged me, not realizing his efforts were futile.
“No.” I said, getting up. “I’m not going to leave. Trini was my friend, and I’m going to find whoever killed her, and make sure he pays for it.”

“Very well,” said someone behind me. I turned around, and saw nothing. And then he appeared, turning off his cloaking mechanism, gradually turning visible in a dim purple glow. I only saw him once, in a ceremony held on Triforia years ago, that celebrated the victory of good over evil that invaded the universe in an all out attack led by the menacing Dark Specter. I only saw him from afar that time, but he still was impressive, and yet very mysterious.
“Weren’t you supposed to be outside?” I asked him.
He smiled, or I think he did, I couldn’t really tell behind his helmet. It’s then when I realized the only thing that can stick out more than a humanoid amphibian alien dressed like Shaolin monk in a church, is what seems to be a man in black astronaut uniform that appears out of thin air.
The Phantom Ranger handed me a computer the size of my palm, and said: “Your reputation is justified Billy Cranston. You are to remain here and investigate. Cestro and I cannot stay here anymore. Use this,” he pointed at the device in my hand, “It contains a limited amount of data concerning all known former Power Rangers, it will help you sorting out potential allies. Do not be mislead, you are in a great peril. I’m not familiar with the details, but once I find any new information, I’ll inform you via this device.” He then walked around me, and stopped right next to Cestro.

I heard steps nearing the hall. Cestro and the Phantom Ranger heard them too. They looked at me, and I nodded. Quickly, Cestro put his hand on the Phantom Ranger’s shoulder, and the two vanished.
A woman walked into the hall. She was dressed in black, as if she came for a funeral. I never saw her in my life. She walked slowly, almost as if taking another step inflicted her with great pain. I couldn’t let my eyes off her. It wasn’t because of the way she looked, it was because of how desperate her appearance seemed. I noticed her carrying a pile of blankets, cradling them as if they were little kittens. She then entered the priest’s confession cell.
The door leading to the hall creaked, as invisible hands opened it and left the church.
I looked back to where I last saw the woman, and saw her running out of the cell, tears in her eyes. She no longer held the blankets.

She couldn’t take it for much longer. Having worked on that super-secret organization at the research and development department, she began noticing the affects it had on her. She first noticed the bluish dots on her skin, right under the armpit and her feet. She later began suffering exhaustion, repeating depression and several other symptoms. She was a doctor, she knew she was dying.
“Excuse me Ms., is everything alright?” asked a dark skinned man who stood outside the church she was heading for. She didn’t answer. She only cradled the blankets in her arms harder, and went inside.
When inside, her eyes briefly landed on the most suspicious young man, who kept looking on both sides as if he was expecting someone. She sped up, and made her way to the confession cell.
She peeked through the barrier to see if Reverent Sanchez was there. Luckily, he wasn’t.
She sat down on the bench, and removed the blanket that covered the little baby’s face. His eyes were closed, and his mouth slightly opened as if he was going to cry. She began having second thoughts, but quickly drove them away. She can’t keep the child, not in her condition. He deserves a better life than that. Reverent Sanchez will treat him well, he’s a good man.
So, choking her cry, she put the baby in the blankets softly on the bench, kissed him on his forehead, and ran as if from a plague.
That was the last time little Jack Landors ever saw his mother.

The blue SUV stopped next to the local medical examiner laboratory. Wes pulled the key out of the ignition, and the two left the car. The local lab was rather simple, missing the resources and technology the central Silver Guardians’ lab had. Upon entering the room, Wes and Eric saw two people: one was a bald man in his late fifties, with large glasses and what appeared to be coffee stains on his white robe. The other was a pretty woman in her late twenties, blonde and pale. They were very familiar with that woman, a co-worker, named Dana Mitchell. Between the two people lied a body on a metal bed, covered in a white sheet.
“Eric, Wes, this is Spooner.” Said Dana, pointing at the old man, “He’s the local coroner. Spooner, these are Eric Myers and Wes Collins.”
“Pleasant to meet you, how are you today?” asked Spooner, jotting something down on his notebook
“Cold.” Answered Wes.
“Oh yes.” Replied Spooner, “This is a morgue, we keep it cold, it slows the bodies’ decomposition.”
“Whatever, is this the one?” asked Eric, pointing at the white sheet.
“Yes, that’s her.”
“Alright,” said Eric, and then turned to Spooner, “Sir we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“This case is confidential and is subject to the exclusive authority of the Silver Guardians. You may check with your superiors on that.” Continued Eric.
“Alright…” mumbled Spooner, “But you guys will be hearing from me! No one sends me away from my own morgue and gets out with it!” and with that, he left the room.
“Shall I close the door?” asked Wes, ignoring Spooner’s angry words.
“You shall.” Answered Eric, and Wes closed the door.

“OK, take it off.”
Dana complied, and removed the sheet off Trini’s stripped body. Her body was pale, turning slightly bluish under her armpits, her fingers, and chin. Her face seemed as peaceful as ever.
“Hmm, pretty girl.” Said Wes, rubbing his chin.
“Prettier than your wife?” asked Eric, jokingly.
“Don’t tell her I said that, alright?” said Wes, sarcastically.
“How much are you willing to pay?”
Wes raised his head to look at Eric, when Dana brought them back to track.
“Guys, can we act like professionals?” she said, the two nodded.
“Man, someone was sure mad at her.” Said Eric, pointing his finger over the gashes in her stomach.
“Actually, someone was everything but angry.” Said Dana, pointing over the 3 stab wounds. “These wounds were all made by stabbing. But they’re wide and slightly triangular, indicating each one of them suffered at least one other hit at the exact same spot. I estimate 7-8 times. Now, you can’t stab someone that many times and leave only three wounds without knowing exactly what you’re doing.”
“So we’re dealing with an assassin?” asked Wes.
“I didn’t say that. Someone wanted her dead, and did it like an amateur. To be honest, I’m clueless.”
“So you brought us here to tell us you have nothing?” asked Eric, and sighed.
“Wait, I do have something.” She said, and started digging in a pile of tools.

“Take a look at this.” Said Dana, handing Wes a small device with two electrodes at the end. “This is an Electro Taker. It measures electrical charges. Usually when you put it against a wound inflicted by a knife or a bullet, it measures something like 0.00004 Scale. But, when I put it against Kwan’s wounds, it measured 0.24 Scale.”
“So, was the murder weapon electrified?” suggested Wes.
“No, I checked that. There were no burn marks around the wound. The only possible explanation I can think is that the charge came from the person holding the murder weapon.” Said Dana.
“But, the only way a person can have such electrical charge on his body is if he had experience with…” said Wes.
“The morphing grid.” Completed Eric, “Is that what you mean?”
“Yes.” Replied Dana. She took the Electro Taker and put it back in the pile of tools. “That means whoever did it, once used the morphing grid.”
“A former Power Ranger?”
“Or a current one.”
“So our suspicion was correct, it truly was Billy Cranston.” Declared Eric.
“Not necessarily.” Corrected Dana, “It’s impossible to tell how long it’s been since the murderer last morphed. It can be anyone who was a Ranger, including the three of us, and the person who lies dead right here.”

Three minutes later, coroner Spooner began slamming his fist against the door furiously.
“Guess it’s time for us to leave. Think you can deal with him?” asked Wes, pointing at the old man barking out curses in every second breath.
“With my eyes closed, now you know what you need to check.” She said, getting back to the autopsy.
“Right. Oh and Dana?”
“Yes?”
“You look pretty tired, maybe you should get some sleep?”
“I don’t sleep, you know that.” She replied.
“Let’s go.” Said Eric from the other side of the room, he always knew when it was the time to stop asking questions.
“Right…” said Wes, and followed his partner back to the car.

To be continued...

[GretSword]

Chapter 5

“What the hell is this?” yelled out the frustrated man, as he threw the wine bottle across the room. What did he ask for? A decent, unopened bottle of 1957 Karpacho wine. What did they give him? An unopened bottle of 1960 Kordello! They might as well have given him motor oil. They bottle shattered on the other side of the restaurant, leaving fragments all around the wall.
A waiter approached him, slightly hesitant at first. “Sir? Mr. Vallertes? Is there something wrong?”
By that point, all the eyes in the room landed on table number 2. The man suddenly reached for the poor waiter, and grabbed him by the collar. He then pulled him so close to him, that his breath could be felt on the waiter’s ear. He then whispered: “Do you know who I am?”
A rhetorical question, obviously. You couldn’t live in the city of Angel Grove without knowing Carlos Vallertes. He was, as they say, the “Big Daddy”, “The Godfather”, “The Boss”, whatever. He ran most of the illegal business in Angel Grove, relying on intimidation and violence to keep him power. His past as the Green Turbo Ranger and the Black Space Ranger was long forgotten, as now he was no more than a criminal.
Drops of cold sweat hit the table, as the terrified waiter tried to wipe his forehead while failing to maintain a solid voice. “Ye…yes, sir. Of course I know who you are.”
Carlos pushed the waiter forwards, and the latter crashed into table number 4.
“Get up.” Ordered Carlos, the man reluctantly complied. “If you know who I am, and I know you’re not bulletproof, why did you give me something that I didn’t order?”
“I’m sorry sir, I won’t do that again!” said the hyperventilating waiter, realizing his neck was in danger.
“I’m certain you won’t…” said Carlos, as he pulled out a pistol from his jacket.

“Carlos! Carlos!”
Carlos looked to his right. A young man, only 21, raced towards him. The junior stopped just next to Carlos, breathing heavily, and said: “I have some bed news.”
Carlos rolled his eyes, he always hated bed news. He glanced at the waiter, and removed his gun. “I don’t want to see you here ever again, you understand?”
The waiter pleaded, holding both hands together as if he were praying, “Please sir, I have three sons…”
“I’m sure you don’t want to make them orphans.” Said Carlos, without the tiniest bit of emotion in his voice, “Now tell me those bed news, outside.”

Carlos and his second in command followed the young man through the backdoor. They stood in a dark alley, the only light came from a distant streetlight. The only on who could hear them there was a street cat, but the cat was more interested in burying his little paws in a half eaten fish it found in the dumpster. Carlos and his right hand man wore fancy suits, with shiny shoes and expensive jewelry. The young man on the other hand, wore a thick training coat and blue jeans.
“What is it Justin?” asked Carlos. The young man was Justin Sterwart, formerly the Blue Turbo Ranger. Ever since their days as Ranger, Justin always wanted to hang out with Carlos. He followed him wherever he went, copied everything he did, and even adopted Carlos’s lifestyle. It was only natural, though unfortunate, that when Carlos started messing around with the black market, Justin followed.
“It’s about your business with Trini Kwan.”
“Well, what about them?” Carlos was impatient, he wasn’t too thrilled about staying out in the cold.
“Someone smoked Kwan.”
The man who stood to Carlos’s right covered his eyes, as if mourning. Carlos remained indifferent. “So you finally did something right, I’m proud of you.”
“But it wasn’t me, it wasn’t anyone of our organization.” Admitted Justin.
Carlos and his second in command in command looked at each other, who else could have done that?
“Was she seen with anyone before she got… smoked, as you say?” asked Carlos.
“Well, my sources said…”
“Those are my sources, I just let you use them.”
“Sorry, your sources,” continued Justin, correcting himself, “said the police have their eye on this guy, Billy Cranston.”
“Billy?” repeated the second in command, “No way, he’s on Aquitar.”
“Mr. DeSantos, please let the kid finish.” Said Carlos, making his right hand man, the former Red Power Ranger and Blue Zeo Ranger, Rocky DeSantos, take a step back.
“No he isn’t, the cops picked him up this morning. He got away thanks to this hot-shot lawyer from Mirinoi.”
“There’s no way he killed her man, he doesn’t have it in him. Zedd’s monsters, sure, but a girl he loved? Billy doesn’t have the spine.” Said Rocky, declaring Billy’s innocence.

“You can go Justin.” Said Carlos.
“But…”
“Go!” ordered Rocky.
Two times were more than enough, Justin ran off through the restaurant’s backdoor.
“You think she made the call?”
“I don’t know, but I think I know who can tell us.” Said Carlos.
“Oh no man, we aren’t going to hurt Billy, are we?”
“Of course not.” Chuckled Carlos, “You are.”
“What?” Rocky turned pale, his eyes widened, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Oh relax, will you?” said Carlos, “It’s not something you haven’t done before. All you need to do is to find Billy, and question him a bit. If he doesn’t cooperate, you use those special interrogation systems you like so much. You can even use the hook, if you want. Just get him to tell you the name of the person she called.”
Rocky sighed, being a mobster and an assassin wasn’t what his parents wanted for him. But, he was too deep in this pile of dung to get out. “Alright boss, I’ll do it.”
“Very good.” Whispered Carlos, as Rocky began making his way out of the alley toward the street, where his car waited. “Oh and Mr. DeSantos?”
“Yes?”
“I hope you realize I’ll send people after you if you fail.”
Rocky frowned, and walked away. Carlos chuckled again, and stepped back into the restaurant, hoping he got the right wine bottle this time.

The next day, I made my way back to the church to attend Trini’s funeral. I had to spend the night in the car, since the good people at the Bell Motel decided not to let me take the same room again. I bet the two detectives, Longbow and Jacobs, had something to do with that. I didn’t mind, I wasn’t planning on sleeping anyway. I spent the entire night reading through the database the Phantom Ranger gave me. Who would’ve imagined Tommy becoming a science teacher, or Zack opening a dance school?
I actually fell asleep, but was quickly woken up by the annoying of the cellular phone I got in that “Maximum Vacation Package”. I picked it up, but the ringing kept going in my head, I had a splitting headache. “Who is it?”
“Billy, it’s Kai.”
“What? How did you get my number?”
“No time for that, here’s what you need to do: first, ditch the car, as in now!”
“But…”
“No but, get out now!”
I opened the car’s door, and closed it. “OK, I’m out.”
“No you’re not.”
I looked outside, but no one was in sight. I got out of the car and looked around the other cars, across the street, on rooftops and balconies, nothing.
“You can’t see me, but I can see you. And so can someone else, who I believe is after your life.”
“What?”
“Don’t ask any questions. Here’s the other thing you need to do: meet me in the afternoon at 5 in Deli Talon Doughnut Shop. Until then, stay in hiding.”
“But I was about to…”
“And whatever you do, don’t even consider going to Kwan’s funeral. That will be a suicide!”
I tried to talk back, but he hung up. I was more scared than I ever was in my life. He could see whatever I do, and so could someone else. Someone who was after my life, someone who could be looking at me through a scope attached to a sniper-rifle. He could squeeze the trigger, and before I know it, no more Billy. I guess if you try to look on the bright side, and you’re on crack, it can be quite exciting.
I wasn’t about to let Kai’s warning keep me from finding out who murdered Trini, and who framed this on me. I decided to take a risk, and go for it. So I stood by the side of the road, raised my hand and called out “Taxi!”

To be continued...

[RedAvatarianRanger]

Spreading the story....Great idea its a hit on RT and im sure it will be on RB keep it up!

[pinkfan]

I think your fic is brilliant. I never expected all the stuff you put in. I look all the time for updates.

[Ranger07]

Must say it is pretty awesome so far.

[GretSword]

Chapter 6

“I need a seven letter word for tich.” Said Wes. The two partners were once again in the car, this time to meet a person who was very close to the recently deceased Trini Kwan, or so the neighbors said. Eric sat behind the wheel, and Wes rode shotgun, spending his time working on a crossword.
“Collins.” Said Eric, putting on a tiny smile that seemed so unnatural on his face.
“Funny, you know?” remarked Wes, “You know, you really should try doing some stand-up comedy acts, you know on those cheap nightclubs. Wealthy, got it.” He finished by jotting down the word on his paper.
“Speaking of nightclubs, we’re here. That’s the place the old woman mentioned, right?” asked Eric.
Wes looked up, their car stopped next to a peculiar structure. The large house was painted in black, and hanging on the front wall was a shiny golden sign that read “Red Rose”.
“Have you seen any other Red Rose nightclub along the way?” commented Wes, and the two left the vehicle.

They walked over to the entrance. About thirty people stood in a line that was contained from both the right and the left sides by a couple of red ropes tied around shiny silverfish steel poles. The people standing in the lines came from all colors and genders, and had only one thing in common: They were all filthy rice, with clothes made by the finest designers, jewelry of the highest value, and the scent of the most expensive cosmetics. And those were the people who were forced to wait outside. By the looks of it, you needed to be a very wealthy man to get inside the “Red Rose” nightclub. As Wes and Eric made their way next to the line, their eyes laid on the bouncer. He was slightly taller than the door, towering over everyone by at least a head or two. His massive chest and shoulders made you believe his expensive suit was about to rip apart at any time. Even though it was close to midnight, he wore a pair of sunglasses. The front was wider open, and led to a long corridor of which a gentle scarlet light was emitted.

The dark skinned bouncer snored in ridicule when Wes and Eric approached him. Eric was in his stylish suit, but Eric was in his old Silver Guardians uniform. “Hold it, boys. You ain’t getting in like that.” He growled, the earring in his left ear glittered, “you better have about a ton of gold in your Swiss account to get in here.”
Wes didn’t budge, he just removed a leather wallet from his belt and flashed out the badge in it, “I don’t know about gold, but I believe silver will do just fine.”
The giant snored again, and stepped to the right, letting them in. Before they made their way through the scarlet corridor, Eric heard the bouncer saying: “The cops are coming.”, probably to a small microphone.

The inner appearance of the Red Rose was enough to understand why so many people of the high class wanted to spend their time there. The hall was engulfed by the same scarlet light, which was so gentle is could hardly be noticed, and yet made sure the room wasn’t too dark. The tables and chairs were all made with wood of the highest quality, perfectly crafted to an astonishing appearance. The chairs were padded with leather, and the tables were covered with silk tablecloths. To complete the astounding look, each table came with a vase, in which rested a single red rose. The tables were perfectly aligned in a way that not one of them blocked the other’s view of a stage that stood in the center of the room. The stage itself was at that time surrounded by a purple velvet curtain, which reflected the scarlet light, adding a little more illumination to the hall. Eric and Wes have been to cheap and sleazy nightclubs before, but that was their first time inside a place like that.

As they walked in, a waiter stepped in their direction. His crimson colored uniforms gave the slight impression he wasn’t in the room. He showed the two men to a free table, and waited for them to take a seat. Wes immediately sat down, straightening the silk napkin on his laps. Eric on the other hand, was a bit reluctant at first to sit down while on the job.
“Please sir, if you care to take your seat, the madam will join you in minutes.” Said the waiter, with a licked French accent. Then, not waiting for a reply, he turned around and walked away.

The light then dimmed even more, leaving only two spotlights on. The spotlights then swirled around the room, and stopped at the same spot – the central stage. A soft melody surrounded the room, as a saxophone player revealed himself right next to the central stage. The sax-player played blues for a minute. The violet screen that covered the stage rose, revealing the person behind it inch by inch. From a pair of lilac shoes with stiletto heels, through slim legs and thighs, a magenta dress with deep cleavage that flawlessly covered the woman’s perfect figure, a golden necklace with the shape of a heart, and finally the angelic face of a brunette woman with a fair skin and brown eyes.
The beauty held a small wireless microphone in her right hand. She brought it close to her lips, and after flicking her hair with her left hand, she began singing. Her voice echoed around the room, partially due to the state of the art stereo system, and partially due to her enchanting voice.

“There’s a somebody I’m longin’ to see
I hope that he, turns out to be
Someone who’ll watch over me…”

Wes leaned his right elbow on the table, as he turned around to look at his partner. He wasn’t too surprised to see his usual indifferent face looking back at him. Other people, including Wes, were completely fascinated by the woman of uncanny beauty and sensational voice who stood on the central stage. Wes finally gave up on testing his partner, and turned back to look at the singer.
“I wonder,” said Eric, while keeping his eyes on the woman, “Do you ever look at your wife like you look at her right now?”
“Oh shut up…”

Knock, knock, knock. Wes and Eric turned around when they heard another person sitting down at the table next to them. The woman was almost as beautiful as the one on the stage, but unlike her, she let out some sort of negative energies into the air. She wore an ebony-black miniskirt that ended at the lower part of her thighs. She was dressed also in an ivory blouse, buttoned up to the collar, and a pair of diamond earrings that somehow resembled tiny eggs. Her blonde hairs were tightly knotted behind her head, and between her carefully manicured fingernails was a very expensive cigarette that looked a lot like Virginia Slims.
“May I help you gentlemen?” she asked with an obvious Australian accent.
“Maybe , are you Katherine Hillard, the owner of this place?” asked Eric.
“Yeah that’s me. May I ask what’s your business here?” she rose her left eyebrow, and inhaled more smoke into her lungs.
“We are in the process of investigating a murder case, Ms. Hillard.” Answered Wes, holding his fists together.
Kat blushed, scratched a bit at the back of her head, and began nervously changing her grip around her cigarette. “Well, officers. How could I possibly have anything to do with that?”
Eric and his partner looked at each other, they were rather amused with her sudden nervousness. They’ll have to look more into that later on. “You don’t have anything to do with it. But your singer might…” said Eric, and pointed his index finger directly at the central stage.
Once again, Kat rose her left eyebrow, and took in another smoke. “Who, Kimberly? No way, she won’t do something like that!”
“And still,” stopped her Wes, “We’d like to talk to her. When does she finish?”
“That’s her last performance for tonight. Once she’s done with this song, I’ll tell her.”

“Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me…”

Everyone applauded, even Eric, as Kimberly Hart finished her song and was about ready to walk back to the dressing room. She bent down a bit when Kat approached her. Kat whispered something to her ear, and for a split second it seemed as if twenty years were added to Kimberly’s good-looking face. Kim stepped down from the stage, and made her graceful way to the table on a pair of unbalanced stiletto shoes. She sat down on a safe distance from the Silver Guardians.
“What is it? I’m off for today, I want to go home.” She said, not much of her old preppy voice remained. She stretched out a rubber band that was previously fastened around her wrist, and started playing with it.
“We won’t hold you for too long, Ms. Hart. My name is Wes Collins, this is my partner, Eric Myers. We’re from the Silver Guardians.”
“So?”
Wes kept on talking, ignoring her disrespectful attitude, “We have come here because your friend, Trini Kwan, was murdered this morning.”
To their sheer surprise, Kimberly didn’t seem surprised to hear about it. She just lowered her eyes, until they concentrated on some cigarette ash left on the table. “I know, I saw it on the news. You caught the bastard who did it?”
“If you care to give us some of the information we need, we will.” Pushed Wes.
“I have nothing to tell you, me and Trini weren’t really that close lately.” Her little uneasy game with the rubber band slightly made its way to uncontrollable pulls.
“That’s not what the neighbors told us, would you please answer a few questions?”
“Sorry, I have to go.” She quickly replied. She got up, and almost ripped off the rubber band as she fastened it around the ponytail she tied her hair in. She walked off extremely fast, especially considering the high heels she had on.

“You think she’s in it?” asked Wes, as the two left the Red Rose club.
“Up to her neck, if you ask me.” Replied Eric, who remained silent throughout the entire conversation.
“So what are we going to do?”
“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.” Completed Eric, as he dialed the Silver Guardians office number. Kira picked up the phone. “Kira, run a check on one Kimberly Hart, that’s without the E. And run another check on Katherine Hillard.”

Kimberly’s forehead was covered with cold sweat by the time she got into the dressing room. She wiped it off with the back of her hand, smudging her makeup all over her face. She was so caught up in her own distress, she didn’t notice Kat’s presence in the room. Not until she slapped her across the face.
“What did you tell them?” asked the furious owner.
“Nothing.” Answered Kim, as she grabbed her sore cheek in one hand, and used the other to try and get back up.
“What did you tell them?!” this time, a muscle twitched in Kat’s forehead.
“Nothing! I swear!” cried Kim, and got up.
“They’ll try to contact you again, avoid them. You hear me? If the guy upstairs finds out you’ve been chatting with the cops, we’ll both lose our necks, got it?”
“Got it.” Said Kim. Kat nodded, and they went their separate ways.

[RedAvatarianRanger]

Nice Introduction of Kim. and wow what is up with Kat? she reminds me of a wanna be mob boss. could she possibly have connections to a certain hispanic ranger and his lackies?

[GretSword]

Chapter 7

The cab pulled up in front of me. It seemed like a fairly ordinary cab, aside from two unusual grooves on the side, and the fact it was actually colored blue. Well, blue has always been my color, so I climbed in. The cabbie had a clean shaved head, a dark complexion and a skinny appearance. He was very young, couldn’t have been older than 20.
“Where to?” he asked, while tuning the radio device.
“Wherever, just take me away from here.”
“You got it, sir!” he called, and turned to look at the stirring wheel. He then pushed a button that I believe turned the “Free for Passengers” light off, and re-started the engine.
As we drove, he kept on talking: “Hey, you heard the great news? Those rich folks, the Drew family, had a child yesterday.”
“Oh really?” I never heard of the Drew family, “How nice. How did they call the kid?”
“Sidney, apparently. Oh well, sounds like she’ll grow into a rich snob.” He said, smirking to himself.
“I suppose…” If you hadn’t figured out by now, I kept on looking sideways waiting for somebody to follow us.
“Hey, you seem like a nice guy.” He took his eyes off the road, which almost made my heart stop, and extended his right hand, “Ethan James, and you are?”
“Billy Cranston, now would you watch the road?” I asked. I was nervous enough with the potential murderers after me, I seriously didn’t need to be worried with car accidents as well.
“Oh yeah, sorry. Let’s see what’s on the radio.”
Great, he’s finally going to shut up.

The reporter discussed the weather a bit (“It’s going to be pretty cold today”, great, we’re in the middle of December, what would you expect?), and quickly put the reporter-on-the-scene on.
“This is Cassidy Cornell reporting to you live from highway number 27 in Navada, where a tragic event had just occurred. Devin, how’s my hair?”
“You’re on the radio, Cass.”
“Right, sorry. Anyway, approximately one hour ago right where I stand a terrible accident took place. The details aren’t clear right now, but I can safely say that two out of the three motorcyclists were killed.With me right now is Sgt. David Tate. Sargent Tate, would you care to make a statememt?”
She then held the microphone close to a person who, although I could only hear his voice, seemed like a highly dedicated officer and a true professional.
“Well, I have just arrived here myself, as I had a doctor appointment with my son Sky. What happened here is a collision between a semi-trailer truck and three motorcycles right in the intersection.”
“Was the truck driver drunk?” asked Cassidy, digging for the slime.
“No, this accident was caused by the motorcyclists. The two people who were killed, a male and a female, were both in their fifties, and none of them had any identification documents. It also appears they had no previous experience with these vehicles.”
“And what about the younger man?”
“We will not be releasing his name to the press at this moment. However, we can say he’s about 20 years old, and wasn’t physically hurt by the accident. However, at this he’s in a state of shock which prevents us from interrogating him on the circumstances that led to this unfortunate crush.”
Sounds of metal wheels were then heard, as Cassidy reached closer to a stretcher. “Sir, do you have anything to say?”
“I AM THE LIGHT! I AM THE LIGHT! I AM THE LIGHT!” yelled the young man in frenzy, as the emergency team took him away.
“Truly, this is a terrible ending…” said Cassidy, but before she could finish, Ethan turned off the radio.
“Nothing good to hear. By the way, we’re being followed.”

“Mr. Bradley? Visiting hour will be over in two minutes.” Said the nurse, leaving the rooms as soon as she finished delivering her message.
Hunter heard her, but didn’t bother turning his head. “Don’t worry Bro, I’ll be back next week to visit you.”
Blake lied on the clinic’s bed. Not letting out a sound, not moving a muscle other than his eyes. His chest expanded and shrunk as the respiration machine pumped air through a tube into his lungs. Hunter picked up a paper tissue from the table, and wiped off the drool that began dripping off of Blake’s mouth. He has been this way for the last year, but Hunter could never get over the nausea he felt every time he saw him in this condition.
“I have to go now, I’ll catch you later.” He got up from the not-too-comfortable chair, and stepped out of the room. As he left, his cellular phone rang in his pocket. He quickly picked it up. “Who is it?”
“Hunter, relax. It’s Cam.” Evoked the voice of Cameron Watanabe through the speaker.
“What’s up man?”
“Someone has a job for us, I’m waiting for you outside of the clinic.”
“I’m on my way.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, as my heart rate reached new peaks.
“Don’t look now, just trust me. There is a blue BMW behind us, with two guys in it.” Said Ethan, as he started clicking a few buttons on a rather peculiar panel.
“How do you know they are following us?”
“Because I just circled the same block three times, and they’ve been on our tail from the beginning. Are you in some kind of trouble?” His hands tightened on the stirring wheel, I had a feeling he was going to pull over for them.
“You have no idea. But believe me, those are not the good guys, and I’m not a bad guy.” I pleaded to him, I came to realize my life were in the hands of a cabbie.
Just then, as if to support my argument, the sound of bullets stopped Ethan from talking. I looked back, in time to see the man in the passenger seat standing up through a hatch in roof of his BMW. In his hands: a sub-machine gun, on his face: a white ski mask, and in his line of fire: yours truly, Billy. He fired again, and missed for the second time. I figured, if someone wanted me dead, they could at least send a better shot. That’s when I found out – he never aimed at us, he aimed at our wheels. One of the back wheels exploded, the sound cut through Ethan’s “HOLY SHIT!” like butter.
Ethan lost control of the car, and we entered a frenzy spin. We slammed into a wall, the front of the car almost melted into it.
Ethan turned his head to me, and with great distress he ordered: “Go, now!”
“Come with me!”
“I can’t, my leg is stuck! Besides, they are after you. Look man, get the hell away from here, now!” he said with a level of determination that could only mean one thing: He knew more than it appeared he did.
I hesitated, Power Rangers don’t leave injured comrades behind. But he was right about one thing, those bastards were after me, and I had no intention of dying. Eventually, I kicked the door open (since its hinges were damaged in a level that I couldn’t even open it with my hands), and ran off.

The blue BMW circled the area for a moment, and stopped ten feet away from the junk-formerly-known-as-a-taxi. The driver stayed in the car, while the shooter walked over to face the injured driver. He had never seen him before, and couldn’t care less about him. However, Billy Cranston was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” he barked at the driver, who already lost quite a bit of blood, and his dark face began turning pale.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about… I’m just an innocent cabbie…” he made a fake whining sound for a moment, and immediately put on an insolent smile.
“Don’t you play games with me, kid!” he barked again, this time aiming his gun directly at the driver’s face. “I’m asking you again, where is Billy?”
“Like I’m going to tell you!” called out the driver, and reached for the shooter’s gun. Unfortunately for him, the assassin was too skilled, and quickly hit the driver’s face as if the gun were a tennis rocket. The driver’s blood splattered all over the windshield, and his entire body turned motionless.
As the shooter walked back into the car, the driver asked: “Did you kill him?”
“I don’t know, I don’t care.” And took off his ski mask. Rocky then put his gun on the backseat of the BMW, and furiously slammed his punch against the glove compartment, mumbling: “Where the hell are you, Billy?”

[GretSword]

Chapter 8

Only an hour after the car chase, people began gathering in the church. The crowd was composed of the most peculiar bunch of people. There were of course, the expected relatives, such as Trini’s father, her uncle Howard (now retired) and her cousin Sylvia (who now works designing cardboard cutouts). Trini’s mother past away two years before. The other original Power Rangers didn’t show up at all. However, sitting by the corner were two people who somehow considered themselves invited to the funeral: Eric Myers and Wes Collins.

“Why are we here?” asked Wes, tapping his knee with his fingers nervously, as he always did when he wanted to smoke.
“What do you think?” replied Eric, considering his remark to be a rhetorical question. When he realized that was not the case, he explained: “We’re looking for a killer, right? According to Dana, the killer had to have known her personally. I bet our killer is going to pop up here sooner or later.”
“So, who do have here right now?”
“Third row, on the left, this is Rocky Desantos.” Said Eric, pointing his head towards the guy who just one hour ago split a man’s skull almost in half, and now wore the finest tuxedo money could ever buy. He moved his head around so much, that Eric suspected he might break his neck and Rev. Snachez will have two funerals to handle,“Who just happens to be…”
“Carlos Vallertes’s right hand man. A notorious mobster, former Red Power Ranger as well as the Blue Zeo Ranger. Not to mention, the only person in the mob business who can’t properly knit a tie.”
“And here is Kai Chen, current resident of Mirinoi, a licensed lawyer who currently handles Cranston’s case.” Motioned Eric towards the Asian man who wore a sapphire blue suit, rather than his business navy suit. He sat patiently on the right of the seventh row, observing the coffin on the stage.
“And look, guess who has come here to watch?” teased Wes, as a tall blonde entered the hall and took a seat on the sixth row, somewhere in the middle. She looked different from the way she looked earlier, as she changed from her up-tight blouse and miniskirt to a black dress so tight, that it left little work to one’s imagination. “Our beloved Kat Hillard, former Pink Power Ranger, Pink Zeo Ranger and Pink Turbo Ranger. Not to mention, a highly professional and humble businesswoman.”
“And guess what the cat just brought…” mumbled Eric, noticing Billy entering the hall.

Sweaty, hyperventilating and exhausted, I finally made my way to Trini’s funeral. I looked around, the church was close enough to being empty. Other than me, only ten people were present in it: one of them was a priest, and another was dead. I also noticed Trini’s father, uncle and cousin. Now, three of the other people I recognized. Rocky and Kat, my former teammates came to Trini’s funeral. The other person I recognized was Kai, who motioned me with his head to come and sit next to him. I complied.

”You shouldn’t have come here.” Said Kai quietly after I sat next to him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, though the answer was clear.
“I’m trying to help you. Are you looking to get yourself killed?”
“I’m trying to be a good friend!” I slightly raised me voice, not noticing that made both Rocky and Kat turn their heads to me.
“Be quiet!” scolded Kai, without raising his voice. “Do you want what happened earlier to happen again? Maybe you won’t get lucky next time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The car chase, when you were in the taxi. It was Rocky who chased you!”
“You’re lying.” I told him. At that moment, I actually believed what I said.
“Am I?” as bothering as it may have sounded, Kai appeared to be rather amused.
He then opened his briefcase, and took out three photographs in black and white. I browsed all three, and felt as my world came tumbling down my feet. The first one didn’t shock me too much, as it only showed me running away from the cab. The second photo showed the man in ski-mask bashing Ethan’s head against his gun. I knew I shouldn’t have left him alone. The third picture was the one that made my vision turn blurry for a moment. It was zoomed into the blue BMW, and it showed the chaser taking off his ski mask, and indeed, he was Rocky. I wanted to look back at where I saw Rocky just a moment ago, but I knew that would count as suicidal. Instead, I just asked Kai: “Where did you get these?
“Let’s just say, I’m keeping an eye on you. By the way, Mr. Fancy and Top-Cop behind us? Yeah, they are Silver Guardians, and they have you on their sights. I suggest you avoid them.” He moved his eyes away from me, and focused on the priest.
I looked around, the ceremony was about to begin. I browsed the hall as if mindlessly, checking to see if anyone was paying me too much attention. My eyes stopped on her, a woman peeking into the hall through one of the semi-transparent windows. The moment she noticed I saw her, she took off. I got up, for some reason I felt I should follow her, Trini’s funeral will be there when I get back.
“ Where are you going?” Kai grabbed my arm, urging me to stay.
“Out. Am I allowed to do that, counselor?” I put on a sarcastic smile, and Kai reflected it with one of his own. I took that as a “Yes”, and went outside.

I left the hall, and found myself in the street. I walked over to where I saw the woman last, but she wasn’t in sight. That is, until she grabbed my sleeve and pulled me down behind a dumpster. I recognized her immediately. “Kim what the hell?” I almost yelled in surprise, but she put quickly put her hand against my mouth, and signaled me with the other to shut up. I tried to talk, but then I saw what troubled her: Rocky stepped through the corner, holding a pistol in his hand. He walked right next to us, with the only the alloy of the dumpster separating between us. He took a few more steps, and turned back to look somewhere else. Once we couldn’t hear his steps anymore, I crawled back a feet or two.
“Billy, listen to me.” She pleaded, not wasting time on the small talk, “You’re in trouble, you must escape!”
“Not you too!” that’s the part when I clutched my forehead as a result of my frustration. “You have got to be the tenth person telling me that, and Trini has only been dead for a little over a day!”
“Billy…”
“No, don’t ‘Billy’ me! You all tell me to stay away, but refuse to tell me what to stay away from!” If frustration could be used as a weapon, I truly would’ve become a killer.
“Billy, please. There’s not much time.” She said. She opened her mouth to speak, but seized when she heard another set of footsteps. “It’s not safe here, meet me at Stone’s, 10 PM. Don’t be late, or I’ll be gone.” She got up, straightened her skirt, and took off.
“Kimberly wait!” I yelled, but as I rose my head over the dumpster, she was already gone.

“Crap!” hissed Rocky when his searches came up in vain. He didn’t remember Billy being so cunning. He shoved the gun back into the hidden holster in his jacket, and walked back to his car. He heard something beeps. After initially reaching for his wrist, he remembered where (or better yet, when) he was, and flipped his phone open. “Hello?”
“Mr. DeSantos, how are you? I trust you found Cranston?” Carlos’s poisonous voice drifted out through the speaker.
“Yes Boss, I did. But, umm…”
“Umm…? Do I detect stress in your voice?” Through the speaker, Rocky could swear Carlos just grew fangs.
“No Boss, not at all Boss. It’s just that, well, I kind of lost him.”
“Well, if you don’t want to ‘kind of’ lose your toes, I suggest you find him and interrogate him.”
“Don’t worry Boss, I’ll get it done before you know it.”
“Better pray you’re right Mr. DeSantos, or would you like Justin to replace you? AGAIN?” Politeness didn’t bother Carlos to much, since he hung up after he finished threatening.
Rocky’s heart was already down to his stomach, but he didn’t show it. In his line of job, looking cool was sometimes a crucial element in achieving your goal. Instead, he fixed his tie, only making it even less straight than before. He put his sunglasses on, and went back to the BMW.

“Jessica? Tell Claude that I would like him to clear some time for me today.” Kat showed no respect, leaving the funeral in the middle. Her crimson colored, fancy phone was held by her carefully groomed red fingernails. “I just got out a funeral, and I couldn’t help but notice my hair had split ends. Oh, he’s willing to so me? That’s great. Tell him I’ll be there in an hour.”
Her chauffeur waited for her outside of the limousine (which was of course, Persian Red colored). The chauffeur, much like almost any other person who worked for Kat, was dressed in various shades of red: From his formal Burgundy pants, jacket and tie, through his Scarlet shirt to his Crimson (extra-shined) shoes. The chauffeur himself was of Samoan descent, with dark eyes and hair cut perfectly and neatly about one inch above his head.
He opened the door for Kat to get inside, and closed once she was comfortably seated on her leather seats. He then went to the driver’s seat, and started the engine.

Kat peeked at her ruby-plated golden watch every few seconds. When the watch showed 15 seconds to 11 AM, she raised her voice a little: “Clarke, would you mind giving me some privacy? I’m waiting for a call.”
“It’s Shane, you idiot, Shane Clarke.” Mumbled Shane under his breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing Ma’am.” Said Shane, and pushed a button. A metallic plate suddenly rolled down from the top, putting a barrier of both sight and sound between the passenger seat and the front.
Just as the watched showed 11 AM, a screen rolled down just the way the plate did before. The screen was turned on to reveal a person covered in a green hooded robe, which holes around his eyes. His voice changed frequently as he spoke, as would expected from a high-tech voice scrambler: “Was he there?”
“Yes Green, but he has people helping him.” Answered Kat. She spoke to the man in great respect, something which she clearly forced herself to do.
“All will be taken care of, Red, for now everything goes as planned.” The transmission stopped.
Kat crossed her legs, once to the right, and second to the left. She relaxed on her seat, and closed her eyes to sleep.

[SyndicateMan]

Wow, this is really good! Like, REALLY good.

Keep it up and I'll keep reading!!!

[Ranger07]

Great Suspence as usual

[Angelfox]

not bad

[GretSword]

Before I post the next chapter, I would like to advertise a video clip someone over at RangerTalk made for my story. Hope you enjoy, comments are welcome.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s2OzVsFa7P0

[LttleDvl]

I'm liking this. I've seen fics before that try to drag in every ranger possible but end up being a sluggish and confusing read instead.

This story is not one of them, nicely handled!

[GretSword]

Chapter 9

“He sure went out fast!” said Wes, stating the obvious as he saw Billy leaving the church. Billy didn’t pay them a look, which made sense considering he never saw them in his life. But he was about to very acquainted with the Silver Guardians pretty soon.
“He’s not the only one, check out DeSantos!” stated Eric. Rocky stood up the moment Billy went out of the hall. A few seconds later, and he was already on his way, reaching inside his jacket. “Should we interfere?”
Wes leaned his head backward, and put a smile on his face: “I’m wearing a new suit, I don’t want any bullet holes in it, do you?”
They waited for a little while, Rev. Sanchez was taking his time with something else. “You think we should interfere now?” asked Eric. By that time, Wes’s fingers tapped his knee so hard, Eric was afraid it might crack.
“Definitely. If we stay here another minute and I don’t light up a cigarette, the priest will have another funeral to handle.” Wes said, folding up his seat while getting up. He was quickly followed by his partner, and the two left the hall.

I walked around, my arms held up to the sides as if I were trying to find my way inside an invisible maze. Kimberly made a “Phantom Ranger meets Batman” move and disappeared before I could follow her. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one who disappeared – Rocky was nowhere in sight either.
“Billy Cranston?”
Normally, I would feel happy to hear my name being mentioned. Yet, when an unfamiliar voice calls me when I’m at the funeral of a close friend that some people claim I killed, I get panicked. I looked behind me, as two strangers approached me. As they got closer, I wasn’t sure what was in them that made my legs yell: “Run!”. The blonde guy didn’t seem to threatening, wearing a fancy business suit and sporting an even fancier haircut. The guy next to him looked pretty intimidating, to say the least. He wore the most bizarre looking uniforms, with a colossal gun holstered to his right.
“Billy Cranston?”
Damn, those bastards were seriously closer than I thought.
“That’s me, what can I do for you?” Even though they were both taller than I was, I was somewhat no concerned by their presence, at first. One look at the gun again, and the panic took over again.
“I’m Eric Myers, and this is Wes Collins. Silver Guardians. We only wish to ask you a few questions, that’s all.” Said the blonde man.
“You see, our sources put you as the last person to see the late Trini Kwan alive.” Said Eric, and added with a little bit of sarcasm “Except for the killer, of course.”
“Of course.” Added his partner, Wes.
“Is there anything you mind telling us about your meeting?”
I backed down a little, I shouldn’t have done that. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”
“It’s just a little suspicious. You see, we know about you a little more than you think.” Said Eric, and bent his right elbow so that his right index finger almost touched his left shoulder. I saw what he wanted me to see.
“You leave Earth for ten years, and then you come back. Then, all of a sudden, the first person you visit ends up murdered. You are a very unlucky person, aren’t you?” remarked Wes, as his cell phone started to ring. He picked it up, and hung up before 3 seconds could pass. “If you recall anything, here’s my card. Don’t hesitate to call.” He took out a blue business card with the text: “Wesley Collins – Silver Guardians Investigator” printed in bold silver. Along with it was a phone number, a cell phone number and E-mail address. He slid the card smoothly into the pocket in my shirt. As he did, his sleeve was pulled up to reveal his wrist. My heart missed another beat. The two then turned around, and left without saying another word.

He picked up his phone a minute after he shifted the gear to neutral. Letting out a faint “Speak”, he allowed the man on the other side of the line to say what he had to say.
The person on the other side didn’t open his mouth for a second. He must’ve been fixing his hair or something, it’s a habit he developed lately, to comb his hair before he started talking. He then said: “Thanks again for the pictures, they sure shook him up a little bit.”
He laughed, and leaned his seat back. Closing his eyes behind his shades, he said: “I told they would. Man, it sure as hell was friggin’ ugly. What’s our next move?”
“To find out who did it, before Billy gets the blame. Guess who just tried to question him?” said his friend from the other end.
“Let me guess – tall, dark and Quantum?”
“You’re watching him?” Kai asked from the other end of the line.
His friend laughed a bit, a laughed a lot lately. “You bet. By the way, did I ever tell you about the Piz…”
“Yes you have. What is he doing right now?” questioned Kai, who began combing his hair again.
He straightened his seat, and peeked at all the high-tech gear he had on the car’s panel. “Hey, you’re not going to believe that.”
“Believe what?” asked Kai.
“He’s going to the bus station! Oh man, he’s smarter than we thought. Does he NOT want us to help him?”
“I don’t understand him either, we should try to keep up. Are you going to follow him?”
“Not now, Talk to you later!” he said, and hung up immediately. He jumped out of his red, convertible sports car to greet his fiancé. He kissed her on the cheek, and opened the door for her (he liked thinking he was a total gentleman, but in reality she could’ve opened the door on her own even with both the bags from Café-Rocca and King’s-Burgers). Once she and her bags were safely seated on the passenger side, he closed the door on her side and walked around the car to sit behind the wheel – he used the door this time. He shifted into gear, and his car cruised off like lightning.
“Did you…?” he began asking.
“Baby, I remembered.” And with that, she took out a coffee cup with patterns in red and blue that created an illustration of a baseball pitcher. Pushing a button, she made a double cup holder extend from somewhere between her left elbow and right elbow.
He kissed her again, dropping the wheel for two seconds. “Cassie Chan, you never seize to amaze me.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Actually, I sounded a lot worse. I never felt so much like a Putty in my life. Not one, but actually two Rangers were also after me. I doubt I was that popular even in highschool. As I got on the bus, the bus driver asked me: “Where to?”
I looked out of the vehicle, not a single familiar face in sight. “Take me to Stone’s, or anywhere near it.”
“Sure, we stop right across the street. Take a seat, I’ll call you when you need to get down.”
“ I appreciate it, thank you.” I kept walking until I saw an empty bench. I sat on it, and tried to close my eyes – perhaps I could get some sleep.

Kai always hated how his friend would always hang up on his whenever someone who shouldn’t have known about his “extra job”. It’s not like he couldn’t understand him, his fiancé meant more to him than his good buddy Kai Chen. Kai had never imagined he would get himself mixed up in something like that. Kai wasn’t your usual successful lawyer – he was actually a justice-seeking person who would always fight to protect the innocent. He wanted to believe Billy was innocent, but he needed to find more proof. That’s why he called his friend to watch Billy 24 hours a day. Maybe, just maybe, they would be able to save him before he gets himself killed.

“Where are we going?” asked Eric, as he buckled up in the passenger seat. It’s been a few minutes since they left Billy, and Wes had been quiet ever since.
“Dana called, her brother is being a troublemaker again. She wants us to help him out of it before it’s too late. “ said Wes, his hand reached for his pocket.
“Who, Ryan? Shouldn’t we just let the police lock him up and be done with it?” Eric was always considered to be insensitive, for obvious reasons. “Oh, and if you even think of lighting a smoke in my car, I swear I’ll stick my Q-Rex down where you don’t want it.”
Wes knew he wasn’t joking. He put his right hand back on the wheel.

I couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts circled around my head. Not the usual thoughts like “I wonder whether anyone else noticed Einstein’s formula was done all backwards”, but more like “Why me?”
All that time I didn’t notice the man who sat behind me got up from his seat. He took out an iron wire, circled it around my neck – and squeezed.

[GretSword]

Chapter 10

The thing about air, you never appreciate it until its gone. Somehow, I have a feeling I said that before. The person behind me sure had a lot of strength, I wasn’t sure if his iron wire was meant to strangle me – or simply yank my head off my shoulders. Was that the end of the original Blue Ranger? To die at the hands of an unidentified person in a bus next to a kid wearing earphones larger than some of the morphers I’ve seen? Not in a long shot. I reached with my left hand up, grabbing the sleeves of my soon to be killer. I reached up, forcing my legs to stretch and pick me up. I made it to his neck, and eventually to his face. I decided to do what he did – I squeezed as hard as I could. By that point, the world began filling with numerous black dots. I squeezed his face harder, and just before my hearing dropped, I heard him scream, and slightly letting go of his grip on the wire. That was all I needed, as I immediately got up and slammed my head in his chin. I ran off, getting next to the back door of the bus. I looked at the person who tried to kill me. He was a blonde man in his middle twenties, with a dark and brooding look and a face so focused I began fearing for me life. Even more so than I originally feared. Luckily, the bus just reached a station. I took off, and the man tried to follow me. The door closed before he had a chance to get down as well, so he just stared at me with the same glare as before until the bus went out of sight. I took the chance, and collapsed on the floor.

Cam waited by the final bus station, constantly peeking at his wristwatch. Its been a while, as the bus should have arrived by that time. That is, unless everything went according to plan. To Cam’s dismay, the bus pulled next to the station 15 minutes late, and among the mass of people was Hunter. It should be noted that by that time, Hunter’s face showed a mixture of frustration and anger.
“I take it that didn’t go to well?” Asked Cam, sarcastically as always.
“That Billy may be a little harder to kill than we thought. Why did we take this job anyway?” Commented Hunter, throwing the iron wire into a nearby dumpster.
“Money.” Replied Cam, and with a grin on his face added: “So, how’s your record for now?”
“237 to 1, and that one is about to change. Hey, where’s the car?”
“Right behind this corner. So, what took you so long?”
“Traffic was a bitch. Speaking of bitch, when does the boss wish to see us?”
“In about three hours, we have some time to visit your brother.” Said Cam, as he pressed a tiny remote control, and their car began making its way to them. Hunter smiled.

“Oh Billy my dear man, you look like hell.” I opened one of my eyes, I can’t remember which, I was still a bit drowsy. I tried to look at the person leaning over me, only to identify a woman with dark hair touching my neck. “Trini?” I asked, as if from within a dream. Maybe the term hallucination would’ve been better suitable. As my eyes focused, I began recognizing her face. “Cassie?”
“He’s alright!” Cassie raised her tone to say that, which hurt my head. “Sorry.”
As she helped me sit up, I realized I was on the grass, which was rather wet. A tall, African-American man approached me, and leaned next to Cassie. “You… Theodore J. Jarvis…”
“Please, call me TJ.” He said with a smile. “I have to give it to you Billy, for a computer geek you’re really a tough guy.”
Computer geek? No one called me that since high school, and that was a long time ago. ”Where am I? How did you guys find me?” That was until I noticed a bump under TJ’s jacket. I felt my way to a nearby tree, and leaned against it. I tried to force myself into getting up and running, but every time I tried my legs failed me.
Cassie and TJ looked at me puzzled a bit, until Cassie finally reached and took out whatever was behind TJ’s jacket. An old fashioned, battle worn Astro Blaster. She smiled at me, and TJ simply added: “Never leave home without it.”
“Don’t worry, we’re on your side.” Cassie said, putting on a comforting face to calm me down. “We’re the good guys.”
My god, how many former Rangers are in this? My head felt like a merry-go-round that went out of control. And when I say out of control, I mean Squatt and Baboo operating it. Getting the picture? I didn’t, my head kept spinning.

“What do we have here officer?” asked Eric, as he approached the first man in uniform he saw standing next to the bar. The officer, a man in his mid-forties, signaled towards an ambulance next to them. Eric counted medics treating about six men with a variety of bruises.
The officer pointed to a slightly overweight individual thick, straw like hair and mustache, who was treated for a cut in his temple. “According to him, he saw a good looking girl in the bar and tried to win her over. He claimed he was drunk, so he may have been a little aggressive towards her. When he refused to leave her alone, he said this guy jumped on him, and started beating the crap out of him.”
“Watch your language.” Said Eric, with an unusual demanding tone. “Is the attacker among the injured men?”
“No, he’s the reason they are all there. Hey Gary! Bring Bruce Lee over here!”
A second officer came by, this one was about as old as his partner, and sported a doughnut-loving belly. He was pushing another man, shackled in a pair of handcuffs. The man’s face was almost completely covered by a messy net of ungroomed brown hair. His jeans were once, back in 2003, blue and neat, but they have become white and shredded from years of mistreating. All the time he was dragged, his eyes were focused on nothing but the floor.
“Hello Ryan.” Said Eric. Behind his sunglasses his eyes looked at the former Titanium Ranger in disgust.
Ryan raised his head a bit and looked directly at Eric, his hair covering half his face including his right eye. With his left eye red as if he didn’t sleep for many months, and a face that gave out depression, he said: “Eric… you look good…”
“Wish I could say the same for you my man.” Said Eric.
“Want to tell the Silver Guardian why you attacked these guys?” asked the cop, mockingly.
“They’re not real! None of them exists! None of us exists!” he began yelling like a madman.
“Un-cuff him officer.” Ordered Eric, the officers arched an eyebrow at him.
“We don’t recommend that, sir. It took seven of us to bring him down, one of us even requires stitches.” Despite that, Eric’s face remained as demanding as before. “Alright, don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Unwillingly, the heavier officer took out a pair of key from his belt, and opened the handcuffs around Ryan’s wrists. At first, it seemed like everything was going well. But then, Ryan leaped and threw a kick aimed at Eric hand, only to meet his open palm. Eric caught his leg, and Ryan tried to use that to balance him and thus allow him to kick with his other leg. Only Eric leg go of his leg just in time, and Ryan fell to the floor. On the ground, Ryan used both his legs and arms to spin into a stand. He then tried to jump once again, but this time he delivered a kick with both his feet to Eric’s chest, sending both of them to the floor. The two arched their backs, and threw them straight up in order to stand on their feet again. Ryan held both hands clenched like fists, while Eric held both his hands open. Ryan tried to make a punch with his right hand, throwing him completely off balance. Eric grabbed his forearm, and used Ryan’s own weight to force him to the floor for the third time. Ryan quickly smashed his other fist against the side of Eric’s ribs, taking the air out of his lungs. Ryan did the legs thing all over again in order to stabilize himself, only this time he stuck his ankle in Eric’s face. By the time Eric rubbed his nose, Ryan was already standing up. Ryan greeted his opponent with an uppercut to the face, who in turn returned the favor with a roundhouse kick. This time, Ryan’s body ached enough in order to prevent him from getting up as fast as before, and Eric took advantage of the chance to knock him out with a hammer punch to the cheek.
Eric got up, looking at the cops looking at him, completely dazzled. Wes on the other hand was holding a cigarette between his lips, and a lighter in his right hand, as he clapped his partner. “Good one partner!”
“You could have helped, you know!” called the pissed, and rather exhausted Eric back at him.
“You looked like you could handle yourself well enough. Arms or legs?”
“Arms, I did all the work this time.” Said Eric, and grabbed Ryan by the armpits. Wes stretched his shoulders, and grabbed Ryan by the ankles. The two then carried him to their SUV, and put him in the backseat. To make sure he doesn’t resist too much, they chained him with three sets of handcuffs: one for each leg, and one for his left wrist. Eric grabbed a tissue from the glove compartment, and wiped the blood off his lip.
Wes smiled, and put the lighter closer to his cigarette.
“Need a light?” asked Eric, and when Wes turned to look at him, he showed magnificent marksmanship ability by shooting the cigarette and slicing it without hurting his partner. Wes looked at the tiny portion of smoke he had between his lips, and spit it out. “You know, I have a feeling this case might get me to stop smoking.”

“What happened?” I asked, this time I was in an alley, and the daylight was covered by nightfall. Cassie and TJ leaned right next to me. “You passed out, again.” She said.
“Yeah, whoever did that to you did a hell of a job. I think that’s going to leave a scar.” Added TJ with a smirk, and both he and Cassie peeked into a large restaurant/theatre, which read in highlighted gold “Stone’s”.
“How did you know I needed to get here?” I was puzzled, but this time my head didn’t spin.
“You told us, right before you passed out, remember?” asked Cassie. To be honest, I didn’t remember.
“Look man, this is where you need to be right now. We’ll be there in the background, should you need us.” Said TJ, as he gestured towards the restaurant.
I looked at my watch, 9:30 PM. No time to waste, I was scheduled to meet Kimberly at 10, I didn’t have time for suspicions. I nodded to the two, and walked towards the restaurant.

“Green!” the TV monitor switched from one of Friends’ highlight episodes, to an image of a person clad in a black hooded robe. He addressed the man sitting in the office, who was wearing a green hooded robe. “Everything is going according to plan.”
“Excellent Black. Is your man going to be there as well?” asked Green, who much like his partner used a voice scrambler.
“He will be there, he’s my best man – he isn’t about to screw up.”
“Better hope so Black, or the entire operation might go to the drain. I’m sending one of my own guys, he’ll perform as backup in case your man fails.” Said Green, as he began dialing the number of another person. “It’s time for Billy Cranston to tell us what he knows, and who else he talked to.”
As he finished speaking, both of them simultaneously disconnected the conversation.

[GretSword]

Chapter 11

As the man in the hooded black robe finished his conversation, he pushed his executive chair backwards while stretching and standing up. He removed his hood, and began untying the knot that held both sides of his robes together. Once completing the task, he could be seen wearing an all-black business suit, right down to the black tie and undershirt. He brushed his hair backwards, as it got messed up under the hood. As he was about to leave, the door was busted open and Justin Stewart entered. Carlos, one who never liked being interrupted, considered the primitive concept of cement shoes, but quickly reasoned. “What’s so important that you’re barging into my office like that, Justin?”
“Sorry Carlos, but there’s something that you should see!”
“I’ll have a look at it later, tell my driver to prepare the Mercedes, the solid black one not the midnight blue one, I have a show to watch.”

I decided to do as Kimberly said, and walked into the theatre. A long line of people stood almost silently, wearing fancy clothes, enjoying a night-out. You think I waited in the line? Of course I did, couldn’t think of anything better. As the line progressed, I stepped into a darker room, where a man examined the visitor’s tickets. Panic began growing in me, I didn’t have a ticket. Hell, I didn’t even know there was a ticket! I began pondering, maybe I could just sneak past him, maybe I can fake a ticket, or come up with a tricky lie. I went through all the possibilities by the time I made it to the front of the line.
“Hello and good evening sir, may I see your ticket please?” The guy’s smile reminded me of the time Skull squeezed a lemon between his teeth.
“Uh well you know…”
“You do have a ticket, don’t you?”
“Umm…”
“I mean, you can’t possibly be thinking you can just walk into Stone’s best performance without a ticket, can you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then may I see your ticket?”
“That’s ok Travis, he’s with me.” The familiar voice came from behind me. I looked around to see Kimberly standing by my side. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and leaned her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around my left arm.
The bouncer quickly changed his face to a far more friendly one, and smiled a sincere smile towards Kim, saying: “Oh alright, if he’s with you Kim he can come in.”
“Thanks. Coming darling?” she began pulling me by the arm, taking me into the main hall.

As I stepped in, I began admiring the beautiful design of the theatre. It was fashioned after a Roman amphitheatre, with at least ten levels of chairs, each divided by the height of 6 steps, and recognized by a golden bar just about the height of a man’s thighs. Twelve tables on every floor, each made for four people were scattered at even distances around the bluish carpet. The tables were all positioned in a way that every person should have a good view on the colossal central stage. The stage was designed the way old school theatre stages were made, with a wooden floor and red velvet curtains. They even got down to the yellow rope that pulls the curtains away from the stage.

“Is everything ready?” the magician, who just recently moved away from a career of saving the world in favor of show business, has already made it to the headlines all over the country for doing magic tricks that were perceived not only as unbelievable, but as plain impossible. His name was Daggeron, formerly known as the Solaris Knight. During his shows, he would always perform along with two assistants: a beautiful blonde, and a man who spent full shows in a cat costume.
“All ready Daggeron!” smirked Jenji, raising both thumbs.
“Excellent, are the swords ready?” Asked Daggeron, addressing the question to a beautiful blonde clad in a sparkling gold outfit, skin tight and designed after a single-piece swimsuit. The lady let out the tiniest sigh, and engulfed herself in a golden aura, resulting in a flash of light that transformed her into a sphinx like monster. That monster was once considered among humanity’s greatest foes, one of only two remaining members of the Ten Terrors, Itassis. Itassis fixed her glasses, and simply answered: “The swords are all prepared for the show.”
“Great.”
“But, there is something I do not understand.”
“And what is it?”
“How is performing for money going to teach me about courage?”
Silence. Both Daggeron’s and Jenji’s eyes popped open, and they both looked at each other, praying the other had an idea of how to get them out of this mess. Jenji was the first to come up with something. “Well uh… you know, when you get up in front of all these people, it’s scary, right?”
“It is a rather stressful experience.”
“But you still get on the stage, right?”
“Right.”
“See? That’s courage! You’re already making progress!”
“That’s right!” added Daggeron for conclusion, “We’re very proud of you!”
“Oh, thank you.” It was clear in her voice that she was pleased of her so-called progress. Daggeron and Jenji sighed with relief.

Kimberly stopped next to a table with a sign that read “Reserved”, and quickly removed the sign by placing it under the table. We sat next to the table. Kim crossed her legs, probably because of the strange old man who was staring at her from a nearby table. She put her purse on the table, and took out a small, square sheet of paper, and pen that had a pink cord wrapped around it. She opened the pen, and without saying a word jot down a compass, which looked rather familiar, and then wrote six words, six colors, one under the other: Red, pink, green, blue, black, yellow. She dropped the note to the floor, and utilizing a skill that can only be described as god-given, grabbed it using two toes of her right leg, picked it up and placed it firmly in my pocket, all while being covered by the table map. Now, not that I didn’t appreciate the gesture, but I was starting to get a little impatient.
“Kim, cut the nonsense, what the hell is going on?”
“Billy, please, you have to understand. The whole situation’s got nothing to do with you. There are people involved, powerful people, they have way too much influence for you to handle.” She almost pleaded.
I looked down, TJ and Cassie sat down next to a table three rows below us, Cassie was sipping a margarita of some sort. TJ noticed me, and nodded at my direction, signaling he was looking around the area for any potential threat. Kimberly was also uneasy, naturally.
“Look Kim, I said it once and I’ll keep saying it. I will not leave until I find out who killed Trini, and tried framing me for the murder. Are you with the people who did that?”
“No, I’m trying to investigate them, like you do!”
“Prodigious. I’m still not going.”
Kim seemed even more stressed, not to mention tired, but eventually after passing her fingers several times across her beautiful hair she gave up, “Alright, I’ll help you. I don’t know much but this is what I managed to get so far. There’s…”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the clear sound evoked from several speakers scattered around the hall. At once, all eyes zoomed in on the stage. A man in his fifties stood at the center, wearing a black evening suit. Even though he suffered from a receiding hairline, and in spite of the years that might have passed, I could never mistaken his voice. The owner of “Stone’s”, Mr. Jerome Stone. Formerly a lieutenant at the Angel Grove police, private detective and even the owner of the infamous Youth Center. “I welcome you, to the thrill of a lifetime! You’re about to see acts that will amaze you, confuse you, maybe even scare you. Some of the things you’re about to witness will defy logic and science, and drive you to a world full of mystics and mystery! I give you the amazing Daggeron!”
sparks and smoke burst across the stage, as three trumpet players introduced the amazing Daggeron and his two assistants. The crowd burst with applause.

“Is this seat taken?” the voice came from behind me. I froze in place, Kim turned pale. A rough and firm hand grabbed my shoulder, and quickly let go. With a smug, Rocky sat on the third chair, looking at both Kim and myself. “Isn’t that nice, eh? Kind of like a little reunion, you know what I’m saying?”
We didn’t respond, we just sat there, trying to hide our distress. I peeked down, only to see two humongous men in leather jackets sitting next to TJ and Cassie, with pistols in their hands.
“What’s the matter guys? The cat got your tongue?” this time it was Rocky’s turn to take out a pistol. “Now let’s do it quietly, we don’t want to start a party or some innocent bystanders could get hurt.
“Rocky how could you?” Kim got up dramatically while talking, “You were a good guy, like us, what happened to you?”
“This job pays better, you know… now let’s just WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The reason for Rocky’s sudden outburst was the appearance of the most oddly dressed person. Actually, it was more of a robot. It bore the image of a police officer, and had what appeared to be a traffic light in its chest. To make things even worse, it also had a gun, and it was pointed directly at us.

To be continued...

[GretSword]

Chapter 12

The next few minutes went by so fast it could almost be regarded as unnatural. Let’s see if you can keep up. Just as the magician prepared to present his first and last magic trick for tonight, a dazzling sequence of flashes and bangs brought everyone’s attention. The first shot was fired right by my ear, erupting from Rocky’s gun, and flying at pinpoint accuracy to the spot where it would pierce the intruder’s heart. That is, under two conditions: One, the intruder had to have a heart. Two, the intruder had to have a vulnerable chest. Being that none of these conditions applied to the case, the bullet simply ricocheted off his body and into a nearby curtain.

The robotic stranger wasn’t at such a disadvantage, and shot Rocky in the arm. I didn’t need a second more than that to leap up, grab Kimberly (while crying something that I’m pretty sure rhymed with “Yuck”), and head off to hide behind a turned forward table.
“Oh shit, we’re in trouble.” Cried Kimberly, as the sound of several more guns joined the whole orchestra of screaming women, cursing men, and whistling bullets.
“Underestimate of the century, huh?!” I murmured between my teeth, though I think she heard me in spite of the massive confusion going around the hall.

The lights seemed to fade as the bullets crashed into the dozens of tubes on each end of the rows, which originally provided light for the club. The light then vanished almost entirely, when a tall shadow leaned over us, blocking away the last few light sources left in the room. At last I dared to look up, and set my eyes on the android. Or better yet, on its outstretched hand. With a raspy, hollow voice it finally told me: “Come with me if you want to live.”
When I hesitated, it went on: “I’m programmed to protect you, come with me!”
This time I didn’t hesitate; I grabbed Kim by the arm and raised both of us to a full stand, getting a good look on the destruction for the first time since the whole gunfight began. Bodies, not many of them but several, laid on the floor. Not all of them even got there, some still sat on the chairs, with the only indication of their premature demise being the blood on their otherwise immaculate clothes. The last of the shots has long subsided, and I noticed the last of Rocky’s henchmen leaving the room, forcing TJ and Cassie along with them.
“If you want to help someone, help them!” I yelled at the robots’ emotionless face, and pointed with frenzy to the point where I last saw my two need allies. The machine complied, and began pacing (though quite fast) towards the emergency exit. Before the robot disappeared through the door, he said with a heavy accent “I’ll be back”. Kim and myself ran off the other way, facing the front entrance.

What Billy and Kimberly didn’t know, and would never know, is that one of Rocky’s goons still remained behind, hiding behind the door the two were about to pass by. He put on a large smile, and released the held his revolver in front of his face, ready to gun down anyone who passes through that door, on the boss’ orders. Unfortunately for him, his task was soon about to be foiled by what experts refer to as “A Flying Magical Oil Lamp”. Then, everything turned black.

Some might have seen that as a rather awkward sight. A large man, wearing a heavy duty leather jacket as well as a pair of 200 dollar worth of sunglasses, sitting ever so nervously on the driver seat of a white van with “Jackie’s Dry Cleaners” painted on both sides of it in green and red. On a side note, the van’s engine has been running for the last twenty minutes, but the car didn’t move an inch. Bruno, the driver, constantly looked out, anxious to see his colleagues getting out of the club. Not before long, a small group of men came out through the door, four of them dragging a man and a woman who, got to give them credit for that one, put up a hell of a struggle. One of the goons, whose hands were free, opened the nearest door and sat next to the driver.
“Is’t all OK boss?” asked the driver, as Rocky looked around the glove compartment using only his right hand. His left hand hung limp by his side.
“What does it look like you dim-wit?” Rocky sprayed, “I got shot!”
“So… you OK boss?”
“JUST FUCKING DRIVE!” this time Rocky actually yelled.
The back door of the van shut close, and finally locked, as the rest of the henchmen and their hostages got inside.
“But boss… who’s this guy?” the less than brilliant Bruno asked, pointing a meaty finger at the Robocop who came through the door, following the mobster entourage.
A small laughter erupted from behind, and Cassie said, still unable to control the triumphant laughter. “That’s the Blue Senturion! Ha! You just better let us go now before he blows you all to smithereens!” She intend to say something else, but by that moment one of the goons slapped her across the mouth so hard, he clearly cracked her lip, and possibly broke one of her teeth.
“Hey wait a minute!” TJ got up to protect his fiancé, but Rocky simply turned around, a gun in a has healthy hand, and ordered: “Sit down man, now!”
TJ, having no choice but to obey, grabbed his bleeding fiancé and wrapped one muscular arm around her shoulders.
“Get us out of here!”
The Blue Senturion managed to put four bullets into the bulletproof body of the van before it disappeared from sight.

We raced on, getting out of Stone’s as fast as our legs allowed. I didn’t realize until later that I accidentally stepped over an unconscious person while getting out. The hour was late, I couldn’t tell how late, but the only sounds I could hear at the time other than our exhausted breathings was the loud howl of the oncoming sirens, be it ambulances or police, I had no intention of staying there. You can imagine my joy when a familiar Honda went by, and the driver rolled the window open while pulling to a stop right next to us. My eyes took a moment to adjust, but I eventually managed to identify Kai’s face, and even less to identify the words: “Get in!”
Filled with gratitude, I got in next to my attorney and savior, while Kim took the seat behind us.
“Where are we going?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Mirinoi.”

“Alright we’re on them.” Said detective Jacobs, as she hung up. The call on the radio said, in layman terms, that the suspect Billy Cranston was seen entering a car with a yet unidentified female companion, right after leaving “Stone’s” club, in which just five minutes prior to the spotting a massive shootout was reported. “Let’s go, it’s right behind the corner.”
“Think we should let the Silver Guardians in on this one?” asked her partner, detective Jack Longbow, behind the stirring wheel.
“Why not? We could use all the help we could get.” Rona Jacobs dialed the SG Hotline, no joke, to which a bored teenager answered, identifying herself as Wes and Eric’s secretary, Kira Ford. Twenty seconds later, she was diverted to Wes’s private cellular phone number.
“Detective Jacobs, how are you? Are you calling to let us know you have something in the Kwan case?” Two questions in a row, Wes forced Rona to think which question should she answer first.
“You don’t exist! Don’t you get it? We’re all a fantasy! We don’t exist!” cried a voice, quite maniacally, from the other end of the line. The third voice was of Wes’ partner, Eric who said: “Shut up Ryan!”
“Yes. Cranston, along with at least one more person, are both suspects in involvement in a shootout incident inside a nightclub. We’re on their tail as we speak. Care to join in?”
“We won’t miss it for the world. Where are you?”

“So… how is he?” asked Shane, after fifteen minutes in which the three sat on Italian armchairs, colored cardinal red, without saying not so much as a single word. Shane was of course, referring to Hunter’s younger brother, Blake Bradley, formerly Navy Thunder Ranger, who spent the last year hospitalized, nearly entirely unresponsive due to a motorcycle accident that went horribly wrong.
“Oh you know, no change, for better or for worse.” Answered Hunter, looking up to see whether their employer was ready to finally see them, after keeping them for so long.
Eventually, Kat agreed to honor them with her presence. As she arrived, carrying a fancy James-Bond case. She lowered the suitcase on the table, and looked around the room. Shane Clarke, ex-Red Wind Ranger, now her personal chauffeur and bodyguard. Hunter Bradley and Cam Watanabe, used to be Crimson Thunder Ranger and Green Samurai Ranger, respectively, now simply assassins for hire. The best assassins, though.
“Is that all of it?” asked Cam, as he reached for the suitcase.
“Every last Japanese Yen of it. What is it, you don’t trust me?” asked Kat, pretending to be hurt.
“Well to tell you the truth, you just hired two people to kill three targets, one of which works with you.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t be trusted! Well, it sort of does. But, you know, I’m good with the money. Aren’t I Clarke?”
“It’s Shane…” mumbled Shane once again. “Sure Ma’am, you’re loaded.”
“So, is everything there?” Asked Kat, raising one perfectly done eyebrow.
Cam, who finished counting the money in the case, replied: “Perfect. In three days, the coroner will be doing overtime.”

To be continued...

[FlashmanX]

I was checking my ds readmore deleting unfinsihed fics

will there be more of this

[GretSword]

I was checking my ds readmore deleting unfinsihed fics

will there be more of this
Actually, yes. I'm working on the next bit right now.

[Dragon master]

so awesome!
this is cool!