My thumb fumbles on the safety of my Glock. I have a feeling this gun is completely useless. But it shows that I--and the other men of the force--mean business here. We need a guilty party--someone to account for all this mayhem and destruction. And we're getting one, handed to us on a silver platter.

Oh, Jesus, Rodriguez just lost his shit. Holy fuck. Those bullets just dance off that big boy's chest. He's indestructible. I suddenly feel my lunch coming back up. I gasp and swallow. I don't want to puke in front of these monsters.

Lunch goes south again. I breathe with my mouth open. I'm sweating and dizzy. I try to keep my arms from trembling as I approach the bigger, tattooed one. Holy shit, he has two of those belts on. He could kill me just by flicking a finger.

"Hot time we had in the park, eh, sir?" He smirks and flexes one of his arms.

"I, uh, I'd rather not dwell on that right now." I gesture to his captive with my gun. "Who's this?"

"Damn if I know. He never tole me his name. But he's the dude done those fucked-up things. He's your man, captain."

"Lieutenant," the other muscleman says. I don't even respond to that. For all I know, these muscle monsters can read my mind.

I stand before them, my cock getting hard in my slacks. They both have such an intense sexual aura. I can't help being aroused.

"Well, 'gonna take him or what?" He thrusts the captive towards me.

"Put some cuffs on him," I tell my men. Two of them approach the defeated boy. He doesn't even struggle. He's shut down. His chest and abdomen is covered with stale puke. Some of it gets on my men as they handcuff him quickly and lead him off to the copter. He staggers as he walks. His eyes are blank.

"There ya go," Sinbad says. "Gotta jet."

"Wait a minute!" I shout. "What are we going to do with you?" I point to the other guy--the one who knew my rank. "And you?"

Sinbad shrugs. "Think you can arrest us? You can try if you want." He smirks and licks his lips with delight.

I realize that I can't do a damned thing with these two. They're each more powerful than a thousand strong men. So I shrug back.

"Looks like a stalemate," the second boy says. His voice sounds vaguely familiar.

"Look," Sinbad says. "I don't got no beef with you, or anyone. I reckon the best thing is: you go your way, I'll go mine. I ain't got an axe to grind. I ain't no criminal. I just want to live my life."

I swallow. My throat is dry. My heart pounds in my chest. "Can you help us? In the future?"

"Huh?"

"You saved our city from god-knows-what. No one else could have done it."

"And?"

I stop myself from stammering. "We could use your help again, maybe. If something happens that we can't control."

Sinbad shrugs. "Sure, guess so, long as it ain't no bother."

"B-because otherwise, I'll have to ask you to surrender to us." I cringe as I say those words. I'm afraid of his reactions.

"Hey," the other boy says, smiling, "I guess we're like super-heroes now."

Sinbad laughs. "Fuckin A! I could kick Superman's ass!" He flexes his enormous, bulging arms with pride.

I blush. They both notice and laugh. "Like what you see, dude?" Sinbad smirks. Sassy son of a bitch...

"Actually, I do. I like that you're willing to help us out. Maybe we won't ever need your help... but I'll sleep better at night, knowing you're out there." I pause to clear my throat. "Both of you..."

"All right," Sinbad says. "You got yourself a coupla grade-A super-dudes." He turns to his companion. "Ready to jet?"

"Sure," the other boy says.

"Wait!" I cry out. "How will we get in touch with you?"

"No worries. If somethin happens, I'll notice it. I'll be there. Use the fucken Bat-signal!"

"Yeah, Commissioner Gordon," the other boy says. That voice is so familiar...

Before I can say another word, they both soar off into the night sky. It's only then that I notice the rain has stopped. The city is quiet. Water still drips and drops from trees and buildings. But the dark night is over. I think I'm actually going to sleep well tonight.

I look at the other men. They all have hardons and stroke their erections. I can't blame them. A couple of them guiltily zip up their pants. "All right, men! That's it. Let's get this juvie downtown and book him. I'm ready to go home."

I just want to call an end to this crazy chapter of my career. I want to go home, and open my son's room door, see him asleep, dreaming the dreams of the innocent, and then have a drink. And then, finally, I'll sleep, and sleep, and...

Where have I heard that kid's voice before? That's going to drive me nuts... •