~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~{NYPD Radio Channel}~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drunk drivers, muggers, car jackers. In the city of New York, these crimes simply made up another night on the job for a policeman, or policewoman. In average, 10 arrests in one night would usually make an officer's slow night, so it was only natural that some be sent out throughout these hours in which the city sleeps, but the crime does not. Though, as of recent, there have been more and more caught criminals popping up out of seemingly nowhere. Criminals that, much to the surprise of both citizens and law enforcement alike, would often times be tied up or incapacitated by the time the officials would arrive.

“Bravo 17 to control.” A lone policeman called in, releasing the button to his radio so as to allow his attempted station to answer. A second or two of static, followed by the sound of a woman's voice, quickly allowed him to decipher that they had heard him.

“This is control, go ahead.” The woman's static riddled voice returned.

“Have there been any more sightings of 'the shadow' reported into the station?” The woman took a moment to respond, likely checking through her available paperwork dealing with the subject, before the familiar sound of static signified her return.

“Only one other report, made by a white female in her early 30’s. Says that it stopped a purse snatcher, ended up hanging him upside down on a street lamp.” Looking ahead if him, the policeman let out a chuckle, taking a sip out of the, now cold, coffee cup that he had with him, the caffeine in it waking him up, if only a little, before he radioed back to control, an obvious tone of arrogance in his voice.

“Well control, I would like to make another report.” He said smugly, looking outwards from his police car at the very figure that he, along with half of the New York police department, had been looking for.

“10-4. What is your 20, Bravo 17?” The woman asked, the sound of a scribbling pen just barely audible in the background.

“West, facing broker street.”

“And what is the current situation 17 bravo? ” The officer chuckled even more at this, slowly shaking his head as he responded.

“I have a subject hanging off the side of a billboard.” Had the officer ever heard himself say that earlier in the week, he likely would have thought himself crazy. Now though, it seemed like sightings like these had become a common occurrence.

“Does the subject have an ID on him?”

“10-10 control, but I recognize him. Subject is a 'Jimmy Smits', small time cat burglar in the area.”

“10-4, Bravo 17.”

“Control can I get a 10-70, and 2 10-32’s over here.” The officer requested, nonchalantly placing his coffee cup back down.

“10-4, Bravo 17." The officer switched from the private channels to the public ones, laying back in his chair as he waited for the announcement to go out. "Attention, any units in the area, we have another report of shadow related incident on west broker street. We have an officer on scene and he’s requesting a 10-70 and 2 10-32’s. Any unit responding identify, code 2.” It wasn't any more than a few seconds before officers started replying left and right, though only a few were put through to the radio.

“This is delta 12, I’m 10-17, my 10-26 is... 5 minutes.” The policewoman said, a tone of confidence to her.

“This is supervisor car 13, I’m also 10-17, my 10-26 is 3 minutes.” A more high ranked officer, by the sound of it, his voice practically screaming his authority.

“This is Victor 7, I’m 10-17, my 10-26 is one minute.” A newbie, by the sound of it. Fresh out of the police academy, as can be told by his seemingly nervous, yet still excited voice. Letting out another chuckle, the initial officer turned on his car's engine and siren.

"This ought to be good."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(POV Change)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
James Miller
October 7th, 2011
I cant believe its already been just over a week since I started doing this. I mean, I knew that doing this would feel good, but I didn't realize that it would be this good. Man, this makes me feel great, helping the people of New York while managing to get a sort of... Rush, out of it as well. The suit feels amazing in every way, but I think preferred it the way it was before Mr. Johnson had a point for us to change it, just so it wouldn't be recognized by the government. It wasn't the most favorable decision, but it was the smart decision.

Even better, we came up with code names of our own for this as well. Since everyone was calling my crusades 'the work of a shadow', Mr.Johnson and I had taken to calling me that, 'The Shadow'. Mr.Johnson ended up calling himself 'Blackhawk' because, well… because he admired the black hawk helicopter and its traits. Random, I know, but it worked out for him. Reliable, sturdy, and stealthy. I can't blame him for that, heck, even I have to admit that it sounded kind of cool.

The suit came with a built in communication system, which made it a lot safer than using a phone, and it was thought this system that Mr.Johnson would contact me.

“Blackhawk to Shadow, come in Shadow.” Like now, for instance.

“This is shadow, go ahead.” I told him, taking a glance around the rooftop that I was standing on.

“Just wanted to check in on you. You're doing a great job out there, despite the fact that your training still isn't technically over. There are reports of the streets being cleaner then they have been in 2 years, and that's no easy feat to accomplish. Keep this up Shadow, you are really sending a message out there.” I felt myself smile as he said this.

“Thanks Blackhawk. I feel great being out here! I wonder if the kids will be talking about me in school. Or should I say, 'the shadow.” I said in a sarcastic tone, a smile on my face which was impossible to see with my mask on, the only thing visibly open being the eye holes of the mask.

“Yeah, Yeah.”

“Anyways Blackhawk, I’m going to call it in early. It’s 2 am and I don't want to be late for school tomorrow.”

“Roger that Shadow. By the way, how is the predator doing on fuel.” Looking to my wrist, I turned on my maintenance systems, checking the predator's fuel. By the looks of it, the needle pointed it at about half-full.

“Not bad Blackhawk. I figured if I landed it somewhere far off while I’m on a rooftop, then I can save on fuel when I need it most. ”

“ Smart. You're definitely learning. I'll see you at home Shadow.”

“Roger that. I’m on my way now. Shadow signing off.”

October 8th, 2011
It was about 2 PM and school had just ended. My last period teacher, Mr.Wilson had tried to knock the class out with a pop quiz, but I was ready for it. I managed to pass with a 99%, despite my exhaustion from last night, and that didn't really seem to surprise Mr.Wilson. 5 other students passed, but their grades weren't even close to mine. I was the only one in the class that passed with an A while others were C’s B’s and D’s. At least there weren't any F's.

After receiving my test paper Mr.Wilson asked if he could talk to me after the bell. I was confused, and a little concerned, as to why he asked, but I said yes nonetheless, and when the bell rang I waited for the room to clear. As the past student exited the room, leaving just Mr.Wilson and I, he closed the door, moving behind his desk and taking his usual seat as he addressed me.

“ James," he said simply, adjusting the glasses on his further to be further up to the bridge of his nose. "I believe that I am speaking for all the teachers in this school when I say, 'wow'." I rose a brow at this, honestly unsure as to what he meant. "Its not even the 2nd marking period and your grades are as high as a jet plane. Not only that, but I think you may want to take a look at this.” Opening a drawer in his desk, he started looking through the various papers that laid within, eventually settling on one, particularly colorful, laminated paper before pulling it out into my view. It was a pamphlet,and on it, was The University of New York.

“Why are you giving me this Mr. Wilson?” I asked through my surprise. I hadn't even reached high school, yet here he was, offering me a document about a university. Definitely not one of the more expected things I figured would happen.
“Remember that test the class took on the computers in the library?” That was about a week ago, yeah.

“Yes, what about it?” I asked.

“It was no ordinary math and reading test, like we normally give students near the beginning of the school year. It was an IQ test. And do you know your results?” I shook my head in response, still not seeing what he was getting at.

“Compared to the entire school that took the test, the entire county, you scored higher than any other middle school student. Your IQ is equivalent to that of a college graduate... Which, may I so happily say, is precisely why you have been formally invited to attend the University. It's not a pamphlet I gave you James, Its an invitation.” My eyes widened as I looked down to the paper, opening it up and seeing that Mr.Wilson actually wasn't joking or anything. Written inside was a message that they had made out to me, mentioning their interest in me as a student, my bright future, and so on. Even more so, it had been personally signed by the dean of the school.

“Wow Mr. Wilson … I don't know what to say.” He chuckled as he adjusted his glasses again.

“Then don't say anything. Go show that to Mr. Johnson tell him what I told you. I’m sure he will be happy to hear the news.” I nodded, a smile coming to my face as I looked to him.

“Thanks Mr. Wilson.”Grabbing my things and putting them in my bag, making sure that the invitation was in a safe place, I zipped up my book bag and was about to leave when…

“Oh, and James…”

“Yes?” I asked, my book bag already slung over my shoulder as I turned to him once more.
“This is just my opinion but, I'm sure that if your parents were here to see you now, they would be proud of you.” An even larger, though slightly saddened, smile was brought to my face as he said this.

“Thanks Mr.Wilson. That means a lot.”

“My pleasure James. Now, you better get going. We don't want to leave Mr. Johnson waiting, do we?”

“No sir.” I told him with a shake of my head before I rushed out of the class, closing the door behind me and heading outside the crowed of students had begun to thin as they hurried into the school buses. I couldn't wait to see Mr.Johnson and tell him the news. Running across the street. I could see Mr. Johnson coming towards me. I guess that he was worried because I've never stayed that long in school.

I got to the middle of the road when, waving my arm at him for his attention as I called out his name. "Mr.Johnso-"
Before I could even finish calling out for him, the sudden sound of far off gunfire resounded through the air, paired with the siren of police cars, the remaining students who were back at the school widening their eyes in panic and beginning to start a ruckus.
I rose a brow as well, slowing to a walk as I, and more than likely, Mr.Johnson, turned to the horizon.

At first, nothing happened, and eerie moment of silence filling the air, then suddenly a red mustang came out of nowhere, it's wheels screeching and engine roaring as it drove down the road... Right towards me. I felt like a deer in headlights, not knowing what to do with the shock of the situation, and just stood there.

Moments before the car had hit me, I felt a strong push from my left, knocking me off my feet and clear off the road. Letting out a groan, I turned back to the road. There, standing where I just was, was Mr.Johnson, his arms outstretched and hands out. Mr.Johnson had pushed me out of the way, and before I could even call out for him to move, there was a resounding thump that rang through the air, as the car hit him full speed, sending him flying to the nearest sidewalk, laying limply across the floor.

"Mr.Johnson!" I shouted, running to him as fast as I could. I tried to keep him alive, I really did, until I got help, but... I- I couldn't.
I stayed there for some time, ignoring the passing police cars as they chased down the criminals, ignoring the cries from the other students as they yelled at one another to call for help, just... Crying as Mr.Johnson's eyes lost their earlier glint, becoming pale and lifeless.

By the time the paramedics had gotten there, he was already gone, long dead in my arms.
I swear, to myself and Mr.Johnson, that I will find the people who did this. And once I'm through with them, I would hunt down all the crime and evil in this city, and end it. THEN. AND. THERE!

Author's Note

the last bit about James promise to Mr. Johnson was taken because it is not possible for him to speak with his rib cadge being impacted like that he couldn't speak even if he wanted to.
and the idea of the police chase came from this on of my favorite games of all time