He darted this way and that - narrowly avoiding bullets as they screeched past him and buried themselves in the town around him. On the turn of a coin he shot down an alley way, deftly leaping over crates of chickens and barrels of unknown somethings as he went. More shots whizzed past him but it didn't matter - quick as a hare he turned a corner and was out of sight again. He was code name: Black Panther.

"Adam!"

He was shaken from the memory of his evening by his wife's usually gentle, but currently exasperated tone. On the end of his muscly, lightly scarred forearm was a weathered fist - cu...