I’ve been locked up before.  I know what it’s like to sit in a cell wondering if I’ll make it out of this one alive.  I’m not a criminal.  I’m quite the opposite.  I went to a shrink once, he coined the term “superhero syndrome” to describe people like me.  I kept the term, and dropped the shrink.  Just to clarify, I’m not crazy either.  I don’t believe I can fly or that I can see through walls.  What my problem is, is that I have to help everyone.  I’ve felt it my whole life.  Deep inside me, it’s always been there.  It’s shaped my life into what it is now.  I’ve always chosen to enhance my life in ways that will give me a better edge on those “evil doers”. 
It’s the reason I go to the gym and eat healthy.  How can I save the day with a spare tire and clogged arteries.  I’ve taken defensive driving and advanced weapons and tactic courses.  I’m fluent in several languages, who knows when I might need to understand German or Russian to help someone.  I can skydive, fly a plane, and sail just about any boat.  There isn’t a martial arts that I have not studied.  Not only have I taken these courses, but I excel in them.  I’m not just some honky that’s looking for a rush, I know these skills will help me save someone or myself.  I’m ex-military.  Well, specifically, I am an ex-ranger.  I can survive in just about any climate and any weather condition.  I served my country officially for many years and now I will unofficially serve until I can no longer. 
It’s in these solitary moments, locked away in a cell accused of committing a crime, that I reflect of my biggest issue.  I cannot turn my back.  I’ve landed in trouble many times before because of this.  You can only piss off so many people before they come looking for you.  What’s even worse than that, is they know my weakness…they know I will not turn anyone away.  They just always seem to forget just how resourceful I can be. 
The lifestyle that I have chosen for myself hasn’t been all that great at times.  I still regret that I wasn’t there when my mother passed away.  At that point in time, I was still in the military and had been shipped out for some covert work.  I had been cut off for about three months and didn’t find out about my mother passing away for almost two months.  One of the people that meant the most to me and I couldn’t be there when she needed me the most. 
Now it’s just my father and I.  He’s always supported me in everyway possible.  I remember when I first told him that I wanted to join the Army.  He didn’t seem to stoked about the idea, but he helped me convince my mother that it was the right thing for me to do.  I know that he’s proud of what I do, I can see the glimmer in his eyes when I tell him my stories.  I would never want to see anything but that glimmer in his eyes.  I recall one time when he lost that glimmer.  The look of disappointment glossed over his eyes and I could see it.  It was the first time I was put on trial for murder.  My father didn’t understand at that time what I was really doing and it took some really hard explaining before he finally understood.  From that day on, I’ve done all I could to never see that look in his eyes ever again.  Luckily, I haven’t.
As I sit here, I hear a door creak open at the end of the hallway.  The footsteps echo throughout the jail, quick steps almost running towards my cell.  I recognize the face instantly, it’s Jack.  Jack and I spent sometime together in the Rangers, he’s always been there to help me out of these pickles I get in to.  He unlocks my cell and slides the door open.  As I step out of the cell, he tells me that he’s left the back door open and I should be able to slip away without being noticed.  As I walk away, I know what I must do…time to save the day.