He momentarily closed his eyes as he played back that evening in his mind. There were three of them; loud-mouthed as usual and full of Bravado as though no-one would dare touch them, and they could do as they pleased. The look of sheer terror on the face of that beautiful young woman when the trio started to physically abuse her was too much for him to bear. Yet he resisted, even when one of the punks stole his glasses and white cane — a disguise of sorts which he always used when on his ‘missions’. The last straw came, when that bastard still wearing his glasses, had dropped the cane as an old oriental couple had tried to leave the carriage. He watched as the lout physically pushed the couple back down onto the seats and brandished the knife he was holding, threatening the two old people. At that point, his military training had kicked in, and he quickly opened the briefcase that was resting on his lap, retrieved his Glock 19 with the suppressor already fitted on it, and without hesitation, fired three shots in quick succession, each hitting their intended targets accurately and efficiently. The timing had been perfect; he’d replaced the weapon in his case, stood, walked over to retrieve his cane and sunglasses, then without thinking, smiled at the old couple before exiting the train as it stopped at the next station.

Why, oh why, had he looked straight at the old couple. . ., had he not done so, then perhaps his ugly face wouldn’t have left a lasting impression on them. All the same, you’d have thought they would have been grateful for him saving their lives. . ., then again. . ., their kind hadn’t been grateful of him twenty-odd years ago: he had the scars to prove it!

Them aside, he often thought about the young woman he’d saved — she was after all, so very beautiful, and, in a way, he didn’t blame those guys for wanting a piece of her, though he’d have been more respectful. He might not be regarded as a saint, but he still held high moral standards when it came towards the treatment of women, children, the aged, and even some animals. . ., the four-legged variety, not the so-called human ones! Those three bastards had certainly fallen into that latter category, which was why he hadn’t even blinked when he snuffed out their miserable lives.

Now, of course, he was the one being hunted, unjustly as far as he was concerned. Had the cops been doing their fucking jobs properly, perhaps those low lives wouldn’t have been on the streets in the first place, and the likes of him wouldn’t be necessary to clean up the city of such scum.