It was late Thursday evening, as the audience swarmed out of the cinema onto the street. Among them were a group of four young women, who joked about the romantic comedy they had just seen. After walking a few hundred yards, they separated as they made their own way home. One was a pretty redhead who elected to take a shortcut through a back alley. She walked briskly, knowing she would soon be back on the main street. Suddenly, she heard a noise to her left, which startled her. She ignored it and increased her pace. Then she heard it again and knew that someone else was there. She was just about to run when someone jumped out from behind a bin. She stopped instantly, for she could clearly see that it was a man holding a large knife.
'Don't move lady,' the man said, as he moved closer and pushed the knife against her throat. Petrified by what was happening to her, she was unable to move or speak. The knifeman grabbed her hair and pushed her face-down against a large bin. He fumbled with her jeans, before pulling them down to her ankles.
'Please,' the woman muttered quietly. 'Don't hurt me.'
'Shut up bitch!' the knifeman said, as he slid his knife in her soft cotton panties, and cut them with one swift stroke. He then ran the cold blade over her warm, soft flesh.
'Please,' she pleaded again. 'Let me go.' The knifeman pulled her legs apart and placed his hand between them, and started to probe her. 'No, please,' she whimpered.
'I told you to shut up,' he said, while moving his fingers around. The woman closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, as she prepared herself for what was about to happen. When she opened her eyes, she saw a figure standing a few feet away. Unsure if it was an illusion, she blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw the figure was still there. It was a tall, muscular man, dressed in a red and black costume, with a hood concealing his face.
'Get away from her,' the figure said, in a commanding voice. The attacker pulled himself up and faced the costumed man. Then without warning, the knifeman lunged at him aiming his knife at the other man's head. The costumed man swerved to one side, grabbing the knifeman's arm and pulling it behind his back, causing him to drop the knife. He then hit the knifeman in the back of the neck, sending him crashing to the ground. Before the knifeman could recover, the other man pulled his arms behind him and clasped handcuffs on the would-be rapist. He then pulled out a cell phone and spoke briefly before turning to the woman, who was now in a state of shock. Carefully, he helped her pull her jeans up.
'It's alright now Miss,' he said. 'The police and paramedics are on their way.' The woman was clearly shaken, but unhurt. She looked at her saviour's mask and could just make out his eyes.
'Thank you,' she said. Although still in shook, something in her mind told her that she knew who her saviour was. 'Thank you, Falcon.'
Moments later flashing lights reflected on the alley walls, as a police car approached and two uniformed officers – one male and one female – got out and walked towards her. When the woman turned around, Falcon had gone.
A few blocks away, a young cashier was preparing to close his father's convenience store, when two men walked in. Both were wearing knitted masks and one was carrying a pump-action rifle. The gunman pointed his gun at the cashier.
'Give us your money, or I'll blow your head off!' he demanded. The young man opened the cash register and started to load money into a bag.
'Don't shoot me,' he begged. 'Take the money, but please don't shoot me.' When he had finished loading the bag, the gunman grabbed it and turned around, only to see someone standing in his way. The gunman recognised Falcon's costume and knew that he would have to take care of him. As he raised his rifle, Falcon struck his arm with a karate blow, and the gunman dropped his weapon. He swung his fist at Falcon, who ducked to avoid it, before punching the gunman in the stomach. As he lurched forward, Falcon struck him firmly on the head, knocking him to the ground.
Falcon heard a click and turned around to find the second robber pointing a pistol at him. 'Drop the gun!' Falcon ordered the robber, who remained fixed in position. 'I said drop the gun.' The robber hesitated, before raising the pistol towards Falcon's head. With lightning reflexes, Falcon pulled his stungun from his belt and fired a single dart at the robber's gun arm. The robber dropped the pistol and cried out in pain, as an electrical current surged through his paralysed body. Falcon pushed him to his knees, and handcuffed his arms behind his back, before doing the same to his accomplice.
Falcon looked at the cashier who was holding the telephone. 'The cops are on their way,' the cashier said. Falcon dragged both men to the corner of the shop and faced a CCTV camera, before pulling off their masks.
'Show them this footage,' Falcon said, and left the store. Minutes later, three police officers arrived at the store, and arrested the gunmen.
The following morning as Dirk Peterson drove to work on the freeway, he glanced down at the derelict area known as the red-light district, and noticed something new. A tall wire perimeter fence had been erected on the adjacent land, and several large cranes and bulldozers were being assembled there. He knew that property magnate Aaron Lansdown had recently bought the land for development, and the project was being delayed by the presence of the local nightladies who inhabited the area.
When he arrived at The Daily Chronicle, he found his friend Neal busy working on a feature about a forthcoming convention in the city. They were then joined by Amy – a news reporter who was clearly excited about an article she had just written.
'What do you think of this, guys?' she asked. Dirk and Neal looked at her screen and saw a large feature reporting how Falcon had captured two armed robbers and a potential rapist. There was also a picture of the captured robbers from the CCTV camera.
'He's a hero, if you ask me,' said Neal.
