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He heard a muffled yelp from the closet. Vengeance stalked across the floor and threw the door open. Amy’s panicked eyes met his own.

Her hands were tied behind her with a length of rope. Her mouth was gagged by a sock and shirt. She flinched as he leaned down and pulled the gag loose from her mouth.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded furiously. “I… I didn’t know she was here. I’m sorry. I brought you home in my car, carried you in to the apartment, and then she was there. Right in my own bedroom. She turned, kicked me in the side of the head, and the next thing I remember was waking up in the closet. I could hear her talk to you, but I couldn’t do anything to get myself free.”

Vengeance worked the knots holding her hands free. “Did you get a look at her? Can you describe her?”

“Not really. It was dark and I only saw her for a few seconds. Long, dark hair. I’m pretty sure she was Asian, maybe Chinese? I can’t really be sure. I’m sorry.”

Kimiko. I don’t know how, but it has to be her. Once again, Vengeance felt the memories carry him away.

*****

1946, Japan. The war was over, but the conflict continued. A group of saboteurs, a group known simply by the then-unknown term of ninja, struck several key industrial sites in the city. I routed most of their offensives, and tracked their cell back to their homeland. For the first time in over a decade, I arrived on Japan’s shores.

In that post-war era, the country was barely more than rubble in many places. The American bombing raids had left much of the country a hollow shell, a shell American labor worked to repair.

My mission took me to the ancient city of Kyoto. I spent over a year here studying in the ways of judo and karate, and even with the bomb damage I knew the city well. I traveled to my master’s old dojo, but what I found was not the result of any bomb.

The master never had many students, but of the few he had, it seemed none had survived. Broken bodies littered the tatami floor. I could tell that all their deaths were caused by bare-handed attacks. It seemed I faced a master martial artist.

I took my time to perform a thorough search of the premises. I knew some clue must exist among the carnage. Deaths like this were meant as a message. I knew some trace of the message would remain.

I found it in the tiny chambers Yamamoto-sensei kept in the back of the dojo. A small coin, marked with the image of a dragon. The creature’s eyes were inset with a tiny ruby. The flip side showed the same ruby but this time inset in a dragon’s skull, quite an unusual image for any kind of Japanese coinage.

My studies in criminology instantly gave me the answer, though up to this point I thought their organization only a myth. The Dragon’s Skull seemed to want my attention. I felt obliged to give it to them.

I donned my costume in the hopes that enough American G.I.s were active in the area that no one would be suspicious that rich playboy Bob Benton had anything to do with the masked vigilante. In costume, I set out for the nearby mountain peaks, peaks where the Dragon’s Skull allegedly began.

Legend had it that the organization known as the Dragon’s Skull dated back to the twelfth century, to the days of the legendary female samurai Tomoe Gozen. Following the Battle of Awazu, she fled to safety. She found it in the mountains near the then capitol. Dissidents from the area formed around her despite her protests. She would eventually disappear from their presence, but the anarchist group would continue to develop. Over the next hundred years, they would work their way out of Japan and in to most of Asia, and the Dragon’s Skull was truly formed. Masters of assassination, they would soon become the most feared ninjas the world over.

Now I sought to find their legendary hidden home in the mountains. I’m sure they thought no one could ever find it. Unfortunately for them, I already knew its location.

During my first stay in Japan, Yamamoto-sensei also faced retribution from the Dragon’s Skull. I never knew why; it wasn’t a student’s place to question his master. They sent their assassins in the night then, too. Alongside my master and his toughest students, we fought them all off with ease.

It was after that battle that the master showed me a scroll, a scroll he now planned to destroy. A scroll that showed the location of the Dragon’s Skull’s hidden monastery.

I arrived at the monastery in early morning. To my surprise, it was less than an hour’s hike off the beaten trail, nestled in the heart of a plateau. The monastery’s roof was made of solid rock, even disguising it from the air. But not from me.

The ninjas of the Dragon’s Skull worked at night, and I used their sleeping schedule to my advantage. The monastery was quiet except for two guards near the front gates. I dispatched them easily with two knockout gas v-blades. I took a moment to secure the bodies and made my way in.

In to a trap.

Yamamoto-sensei sat on his knees in the center of an open room. Two dozen ninjas, all armed with sword or naginata, surrounded him. A katana shined even in the dim light as it was poised above Yamamoto-sensei’s head. And holding the blade was the most woman world I ever laid eyes upon.

Her hair shined with the same glimmer as the katana. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue-green in the world. Her lithe, but still curvy body was covered by a kimono that accentuated all her best features. It was love at first sight, or at least lust.

And I could only watch as she swung the blade downward.

I could only watch as it sliced through my sensei’s neck.

I could only watch the impassive stare in his eyes as they instantly died.

The woman smiled. “Konnichiwa, Benton-sama. The Dragon’s Skull has expected you for many years now.”

I did not even have a chance to move before the poison darts struck me from all sides. In less than three seconds, I was unconscious, blissfully unaware of what was to come.

*****

Vengeance clutched his forehead.

“Are you all right?” Amy said.

He nodded. “Another flashback. They get more painful every time it seems.” He reached up and pulled the cowl from his face and let it fall back over his cape. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you. If it wasn’t for me, I suspect you would never have been in danger.”

Amy shook her head. “I’m an investment banker. I’m used to conflict. Not quite the kind that reaches out and bashes you across the head, but conflict.”

He nodded and offered her his hand. “Let’s try this again, shall we? Robert Benton, better known as Vengeance.”

She smiled. “Amy Evans, Sachs and Company senior financial analyst.”

“You work in business?”

“In investments, yes. My company handles the financial services for over a dozen major investors nationwide.”

Bob smiled. “Have you ever considered a lateral career move? Perhaps in to another company with a better position?”

“What are you talking about?”

Bob guided her out in to the main room and to her desktop. Despite the difference in operating systems, he easily accessed the internet and called up a dummy bank account that held twenty million of his surplus funds. He heard Amy whistle from over his shoulder.

“That’s a lot of scratch. You want me to work on that?”

Bob shook his head. “That’s just a down payment. I want to set up my own corporation. My old company is gone, torn in to pieces and scattered across numerous fields. I want to buy the profitable ones back, pick up a few more, and become a major economic force again. Basically I want to start a new multi-national, and I still have the billions to fund it.”

“Why? Why not just stay low profile? You could focus everything on your crime-fighting identity.”

“I’m a sum of my parts, Ms. Evans. Could you give up everything that makes up your day except for your work? Family, friends, meals out, any semblance of life as you would usually live it? Of course, not, and neither can I. I need to be able to stretch my wings as a normal man, not just another costumed vigilante. And the best way to do that, the best way to cover up the massive money expenditures my work takes, is through a large scale privately ran corporation. And I have the whole millionaire playboy angle down. Why mess with the image now?”

“But I heard your story, the one you told the lady disguised as me. Robert Benton should be ninety years old at least. And you don’t look a day over thirty.”

“I figured I would use the name John Perry, my old pen name at the Clarion. Like you said, no one under ninety will remember it, and even those who did won’t connect a thirty year old businessman with the name of a reporter they never saw seventy years ago.”

He smiled. “I know this is all crazy and coming at you fast, but I am dead serious. I want you to start the ball rolling with the twenty mil. Use it to pay all the licenses, fees, court documents, get the first few deals set up with the other groups. Don’t worry about funding, I’m good for it. You can keep half the money as your first year’s paycheck. I know this will take a while.”

Amy gasped at the figure. “You’re going to pay me ten million dollars a year to do this?”

Bob nodded. “Ten million seems a miniscule amount to pay my new chief operations officer.”

“You really know how to sell a girl, don’t you?”

“I need help, and I need a confidant. And you’ve saved me just as much as I saved you. Will you help me, Ms. Evans?”

“If I’m going to be your new CFO, you better start calling me Amy.”

“And you better get used to calling me John.”

“All right, John. I’ll put in my two weeks in the morning. And we’re get started on your budget.”

Vengeance looked around the apartment. “Good. But first, I would appreciate it if you could find me some clothes.”

She looked down at the skull and crossbones on his chest. “Yeah, I suppose you do.” She wrapped a string of dirty blonde hair around her finger as she chewed her lip. Just under a minute later, she nodded as she concluded her deliberation. “I think I need your measurements, get you a couple suits for tomorrow. Maybe Armani? Will that work for you?”

He shrugged. “I’m not picky. As long as it’s designer.”

“Good.” She walked back in to the bedroom, opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, and dug down to the bottom. She came out with navy blue sweat pants and a gray tank top.

She held the clothes out to Bob. “These were an ex’s, but he left them here when he packed up. It’s not exactly formal wear but it should tide you over until tomorrow when we buy you some new clothes.”

“Thank you, Amy. Your help is greatly appreciated.”

“Well, you’re certainly paying me enough. For that kind of money, I would be hard pressed not to sell you everything in my wardrobe twenty times over.”

He grinned, but said nothing else. If all went well, he could be back on track in a matter of weeks. Things seemed to be looking up.

*****

The docks were no place for anyone at night. Even the criminals shied away from Lake Doom at this time during the deepest portion of the evening. Dark things dwelled beneath the surface of the lake. No one ever saw them, but they all knew they were there. They felt them in the water beneath their boats, peering out from the edge of the bay, and brushing past in the swimming areas. At night, legend had it the creatures raised to walk at the edge of the water in search of their prey.

Gila knew the legends to be just that. He never saw anything in the water any more menacing than himself. His nearly black skin blotched with vitiligo-induced white speckles up and down her skin. But it was the three rows of long, sharp teeth in his mouth and the two venom-dripping canines that made him a threat to his enemies. He stalked the street tonight, just like he did every night, in search of a stupid human foolish enough to be out. Everyone has to eat after all.

A growling laugh emerged from deep in his throat as he thought about his little joke. Life was good in New Salem for someone like him. He knew no other city where the monsters could roam so free.

He kept to the shadows as he worked his way down the same streets he walked every night. His dark complexion and black clothes made him all but disappear in to the darkness. Even with his massive frame he moved lightly, almost silently, as his eyes darted back and forth for any sign of prey.

Some nights it comes fast, some nights it takes awhile.

He grinned. Tonight would be a quick night.

A young woman walked down the boardwalk as she fiddled with her handbag. From her red pleather skirt, halter top, and knee-high boots, he assumed she was a prostitute. Another fool of a woman answering a call from a john on the wrong side of town. My kind of prey.

He bounded out of his hiding place and streaked across the boardwalk. Her back was turned to him. She didn’t even see him coming. Gila’s jaws distended, his tongue fell from his mouth as he salivated at the thought of his dinner. He lunged towards her—

—and the taser cables struck him in each arm and his right leg. He convulsed as the electricity coursed in to his body. Gila dropped to the ground. He still twitched, but otherwise couldn’t move.

Several figures emerged from nowhere, dressed from head to toe in jet black flak gear. All carried equally dark automatic rifles. Gila could only watch as one of them, the leader maybe, came over to the girl. They occasionally glanced his way as they talked in hushed tones for several seconds. The girl pulled a syringe from her handbag, walked down the boardwalk, and leaned over Gila.

Gila tried to struggle, tried to move, but still couldn’t get up. He could only watch as she buried the needle in his neck. “Subject: Gila, secured. Bag and tagged. Prep extraction now.”

Gila’s vision slowly faded to black as the unmarked van streaked down the boardwalk and the soldiers lifted him in to the air.