Doug dropped the paper on the table and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. He took a sip of his water and sighed, pushing his plate away. Breakfast was by far the best meal of the day. Today he’d gone for something simple; chicken fried steak, two eggs over easy, crispy hash browns and an English muffin. Strawberry jam, of course. Water and juice to wash it down and, now that he was finished, a cup of coffee.

He waved at the server, a pretty young thing with coppery-red hair and a tattoo just visible on her décolletage. She looked over and, when he pointed to the empty coffee cup, smiled and nodded.

"Damn." Jackie uttered, checking how much time was left downloading her new game and seeing she still had an hour to go. It never failed, her internet connection would always go down when she needed it the most and true to form it had gone down when the game had been released at midnight. It had still been down when she had had to leave for work. Now it was so slow it seemed no better than dial up. She knew the reason, the cable connection provided by the apartment complex couldn't handle the number of people trying to surf the net at the same time and it seemed like that was the first thing everyone did when they got home in the evening. It would get better later as people went to bed but she had been waiting for the latest Dragonquest game for months.

 Crimson Gladiator found Danger Man at the third place he thought to look, Danger Man’s ex-wife’s house. More correctly he found him standing at the edge of the crack in the Earth where the house used to be.

“Mel?” Crimson Gladiator said.

Danger Man turned and recognized Crimson Gladiator. Any surprise he felt remained hidden under layers of guilt and despair.

“Hey, GC.”

“I’m here to take you into custody.”

“I figured as much.” Danger Man turned his attention back to the crevice.

The Human Head floated past Crimson Gladiator and Danger Man, and hovered over the crevice as he tried to see to the bottom.

“I take it your wife’s residence was here.”

“Yeah.”

The desert sun beat down brutally on the hot sand like a smith’s hammer upon an anvil from hell. It was at its peak, straight up in the sky. A lanner falcon circled lazily overhead and wondered what to make of the five people that had the audacity to intrude upon its domain.

They were of varying sizes and shapes and ages. All wore the same desert camo uniform from head to toe. They had helmets, and canteens, and assorted other gear strung about their persons. They also had guns, big black M16s and Colt Desert Eagle pistols at their hips.