The Cloak - prologue
by RTTingle

The cry came clear over the trees, "For Freedom!" sending the pigeons flying away from the park bench, the scattered seeds they were feeding on, and the two men sitting on the park bench throwing those seeds.

"Humph.", the old man sneered, looking to the sky in disdain as a figure dressed in red, white and blue, topped with a tri-horn hat bounded by. Right behind him, the sky was cut with a blazing path of fire. A look of disgust came across the old man's face as he emptied out his bag of bird seed, upset with the pigeons having flown off. "They act like they own the place."

"Come on Dad, lighten up," the younger one said still holding on to his bag of seed.

"Things we're different in my day you know."

A smile crossed the younger man's face. He shook his head as his father looked the heroes' way. The lines in his face exposed him as a very, very old and bitter man in the last years of his life. His face just naturally melted into a sneer. For a long time, the young man felt as if his father could only frown and no longer had the facial muscles to smile. He watched the heroes charge off to battle himself; who knows who they were off to vanquish this time. Then, he looked to his father's face one more time and saw what he was sure, was jealousy. He hoped that when he was this old 40 years later, he wouldn't be this unhappy.

"Missing the good ole' days?"

Looking back to him, the old man had lost his frown. The sneer wasn't gone completely, yet his eyes sparkled as he sat silent for but a moment as if trying to remember. He looked past his son, as if he was talking to someone else far beyond him, "William boy, let me tell you something." He leaned back and watched as a pack of children ran by him, all pointing to the sky, following the heroes. His hands trembled as they tightened around the top of his cane as he pointed the children's and heroes way. "Back then that was the last thing we needed!"

William leaned back and got comfortable, pulling one knee up over the other, "What was?"

"Anybody knowing we even existed."

"You never wanted the fame?"

The old man shook his head, "Fame? It's about doing right, son - not the popularity." The cane began to shake, with the old man's hand atop of it, and his voice trembled as he spoke. "I was more interested in saving lives and putting those behind jail who deserved it."

"Honestly, you got more than you're fair share of bulbs popping your way."

"Humph." He shifted how he sat and looked away from his son once more. "Smartass. It was part of the cover."

Regret immediately came over William for what he had just said and he tried to think of something he could quickly say to get back in the good graces of his father. "You're right. You did a lot of good."

The old man's head came only halfway back around. He stared forward and looked at one lone pigeon making its way back to the seed. "You know why?"

William shrugged and waved his hands up from the bench in submission, "No, why?"

"Because..." he whispered, "they never knew if we were real." His eyes sparkled again. "We were like the boogeyman to those criminals. They only heard stories. Most of them would laugh it off. One or two would even listen." A snort came from the old man, and William took it as laughter. "It was for the best, they went on doing what they were doing, because they never really believed in us back than. That's how we got them, caught them off guard."

William nodded, "But there were stories, I heard them."

"Exactly, but everyone took them as just that, stories."

"How do you think I found out about you being The...?"

The old man began to gasp, "Would you keep your voice down." He looked about for a second, "Suppose someone heard you?"

"No need, Dad. Everyone is gone from the park to see what Freedom Force is doing down the block." William cringed and knew he hit a nerve again and wished sometimes he thought more about what he said first, before saying it.

"That's what got you in trouble boy, not thinking. It's almost what got you killed that night too." He said, tapping his son's knee with his cane.

"Well, when your old man is the city's most successful defense attorney and has meetings every night with Patriot City's most notorious criminals of the time, you tend to get curious."

"Certainly taught me to check the car from that point on."

William smiled and snickered softly.

The old man turned his head away once more, "Glad you think it's funny boy, you almost caused the death of an innocent women that night."

"That didn't happen though."

"Thanks to me."

"Tell me the story." William patted his father's knee, "You know I love hearing it."

"Why?" The old man asked looking at his son with a scrutinizing eye. "You were there. You know what happened."

"Because, I love being the only one to know the story and hearing it from the man himself."

Beneath the old mans lip's, teeth flashed. Slowly, but surely, a smile was beginning to crack. "Then let me tell it to you from the beginning."

"It doesn't start with me being in the trunk?"

"Oh no.", the old man said as he leaned back in the park bench, trying to get comfortable once again. "It starts way before that."

To be continued...