I hate it when I can’t sleep. The heightened hearing doesn’t help much. I can hear every creak in the house. Rena’s snoring just makes it worse. She looks beautiful laying there bathed in the moonlight. I need to take a walk. Johnathan Wolfe, for years, served his country and his fellow man. The military psychologists say it’s a need to fulfill some sort of self-imposed standard of chivalry. Wolfe calls it an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. Whatever the reason, he’s good at what he does.

With a kiss on Rena’s forehead he slipped out of bed and dressed for a walk around the neighborhood. The night air was cool and the moon was almost full. Not like Vietnam, clear sky, no smoke. Fresh smells, not death. No screams of fear, only... Anger? Wolfe began following the sound. It was a man yelling at the top of his lungs.

“How many times have I told you never to touch my things!?!” Wolfe could tell the man was drunk. A decision was made, then footsteps.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Mystry?” he growled. Tabitha Shah, a co-worker of Wolfe’s, had appeared out of the night.

“Bout to ask you the same thing.” She replied in her Aussie accent.

“I’m going to right a wrong.” Wolfe’s tone was low and calm. Tabbi knew what that meant. One thing was true about him, as long as he was yelling or ranting and raving, things were all right. When he was calm like this, people usually died.

“No, you’re not.” Tabbi put a hand on Wolfe’s arm. “As much as I agree with you, violence only leads to more violence." Wolfe looked at her and raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t often that Tabbi was the voice of reason. “Trust me. We’ll intervene, but not that way.”

As they approached the house, the faint sobs of a child could be heard. Wolfe pounded on the door with his fist and silence filled the night air. Tabbi broke it by ringing the doorbell. Footsteps could now be heard coming closer.

A man opened the door, unshaven and shirtless. “Whadda you wan?” His breath reeked of cheap liquor. Through the stench, Wolfe could smell something else: blood.

“To beat you senseless.” Wolfe replied quietly.

“We’re here to stop you from making your mistake worse,” said Tabbi a little louder.

She pushed her way into the house and the man turned toward her. “You have no right!”

Tabbi was immediately in his face, “NO!” she screamed. “You have no right to abuse a child. I’m here to see that you realize that before the cops get here. Maybe that way you’ll get help.” Tabbi turned away from him. In a moment of realization, the enraged man saw that she was going to the phone. He ran past her with Wolfe on his heels. Grabbing an arm, Wolfe propelled him into a wall.

“What do you think you’re doin’, sunshine?” Wolfe asked with a low growl. It was all he could do to just hold him there and not break him. The room became hot, unnaturally so. Wolfe looked at Tabbi then down toward the focus of her attention. On the floor lay a woman. Slender frame with red hair, bruised and battered, one eye swollen shut. Next to her a child, splattered with blood, her legs striped with belt marks and her arms covered with red hand prints. Wolfe turned toward the man he held against the wall. A red haze filtered his vision, the world around him disappeared, except for the heat permeating the room. Metal blades crept out of the back of his right hand and he heard the muted whimpers of the child. Seizing the abuser by the throat, Wolfe threw him into the living room.

“Here Tabs, you take care of this refuse while I call the locals.” The man bounced off the wall and into Tabbi’s waiting arms, who quickly applied a joint lock and held him in place. As Wolfe phoned, Tabbi’s captive complained to no end. This is assault, breaking and entering, etc. Wolfe smiled when Tabbi threatened to extract the irate man’s testicles via his esophagus. The police and EMT units arrived in the usual amount of time. After a few hours with the police both Tabbi and the abuser were taken away in cuffs. The wife and child had long since left in an ambulance.

Wolfe walked away from the scene alone, alone and unsatisfied. A spouse abuser had been taken away, who, in Wolfe’s eyes, should have been broken in half. On the other hand, Tabbi, a friend and colleague, had been arrested for assault. “What a cluster-fuck.” Wolfe muttered as he walked into the house.

“John? Honey, is that you?” Rena’s voice came from the kitchen, and Wolfe could smell coffee brewing.

“Yeah, sugar, it’s me. Been awake long?”

“Ever since the sirens went by. What happened?”

Wolfe feigned ignorance, ”You ask that like I was involved or something.”

“Cut the crap, John. What’s wrong.?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Wolfe took a cup of coffee from Rena and sat down, “I heard a...commotion in the house down the street. Then the oddest thing happened; Tabbi showed up.”

“What was she doing down here?” Rena leaned forward.

“She didn’t say exactly, but she was there. Anyway, a few houses down, this guy named Josef beat the hell out of his wife and stepdaughter. Tabbs was ready to make a meal of him.” Wolfe paused took a sip.

“And you weren’t?”, questioned Rena.

“Yeah well, you know. One of us had to be the calm one.”

A few days later at Tabbi’s hearing Wolfe sat quietly. Mr. Josef, on the other hand, was making an ass of himself. Three outbursts and a contempt charge later Tabbi and Wolfe were walking out of the courthouse.

“How’s it feel to breath free air, Mystry?”

“Same as always. Check ya later, ‘Trap.”

“Sure, see ya.” Wolfe left for home.

A few months later Josef was out of jail. Tabbi was working out, showing the heavy bag no mercy.

“Two months!” kick. ”Two bloody months!!” jab, kick, kick. ”And she won’t press charges! How in God’s name can she let it happen?” Fluffy whined. “Sure, Fluffy, walk time.” They walked down a familiar street toward a familiar house.

“You ladies out for an evening stroll?” Wolfe was perched in an oak tree outside a neighbor's house.

“What are you doin’? Rescuing a kitty?” Tabbi looked up at him.

“Just waiting for him to make a mistake. This time you won’t stop me." Wolfe extended and retracted his blades to exclamate his point.

“I don’t intend to try.” Tabbi’s tone was a somber one. Wolfe suddenly looked at the house and bounded from the tree running toward the door.

“Fluffy, stay!” Tabbi was right behind Wolfe. As he burst through the door the stench of blood hit him like a board across the face. Again the world went red. He saw the bloody frying pan, the pool of blood on the floor, and the wound it was coming from. Josef was over the the little girl, beating her while screaming at the top of his lungs. Wolfe seized him by the shirt then the throat. Holding Josef off the floor, squeezing his larynx, Wolfe’s mind raced. Do I kill him, crush his throat, or cut him? Josef’s face was darkening from red to a shade of blue.

The phone crashed to the floor, diverting Wolfe’s attention. “Tabbs?”

Tabbi brushed the hair from the little girls face. “May you find rest in the arms of an angel.” Wolfe looked a Tabbi, the color drained from her face. What happened next was almost unbelievable. “YOU BASTARD!!” Tabbi shrieked as she shoved Wolfe out of the way. Josef hit the floor gasping for breath and was immediately scooped up by Tabbi. She held him over the girl's body like one would hold a dog to rub its face in a soiled carpet. “Look at her! Look at her! That child will never again play in the sun! She will never know a first kiss or a first love! Her mother will never know the joy of dressing her only daughter for the prom or her wedding day! Her father will never know the pride of walking his little girl down the aisle!" Wolfe stood nearby, blood boiling. “LOOK AT HER, YOU BASTARD! YOU MURDERED A CHILD, FOR NO OTHER REASON THAN YOU COULDN’T HAVE YOUR WAY! YOU’RE WORSE THAN ANY SERIAL KILLER OR PEDOPHILE! I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL FOREVER!” She shoved him into the pool of blood. Josef began to sweat, fear was in his eyes. Tabbi stood there, fists clenched, staring at him. A cup in the kitchen sagged, then collapsed into a bubbling pool of plastic. Tabbi took a deep breath, and Wolfe expected Josef burst into flames. Then she left, hands trembling. “He’s yours.”

Wolfe half smiled at Josef as he walked toward him. “Now you listen to me, motherfucker.” Wolfe again picked him up by the throat and spoke with an eerie calm. “You killed a child. God may forgive you but I ain’t Him.” With a swift motion Josef was sliding across the dining room table. “I AM YOUR EXECUTIONER!” Grabbing him by the shoulders Wolfe picked up Josef and threw him against the breakfast bar. “I will make sure you never do this to anyone again!”

Josef now had the look of genuine fear on his face, for he was in fear of his life. Wolfe knew this and it thrilled him. He crouched down very close to Josef. “You have one chance to live. You will plead guilty to murder and you will not say a word about the beating you just got. If you don’t, you son of a bitch,” Wolfe extended his blades inches from Josef’s face, ”the last thing you see will be your beating heart in my hand... I swear on the blood of the child you murdered. No women or children...” With that Wolfe wiped blood from the floor and slapped Josef across the face hard enough to dislocate and break his jaw. Wolfe stood over him, “You’re a worthless piece of shit. I really should kill you on principle right now.” Josef cringed at the menacing words, unable to speak. Wolfe smiled and then looked at the mother and daughter.

“No.” Again he picked up the battered man and held him over the lifeless bodies. “Remember this scene. If there is truly justice in this world, you will see this every time you close your eyes. I’m giving you your life. I hope you die in prison a very old man.” Wolfe then dropped him face first into the pool of warm red liquid. “Just remember, what is given can also be taken away.”

Wolfe walked out the front door as the police arrived. He took a deep breath, “At least the ‘cops’ crew isn’t with them.” he thought and went to find the officer in charge.

“You’ll need a coroner and a rescue.” He motioned toward Tabbi, who was sitting on the lawn, knees folded to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Fluffy sat next to her, observing the growing mayhem and guarding the upset woman. “The little girl died in her arms. She’s a little shaken up right now.”

After a few hours the investigation team left the house. Some shaking their heads, others with tears in their eyes. Wolfe, Tabbi, and Fluffy were sitting on the lawn.

"Thank you for your help, John.” Wolfe nodded and took a drag off of his cigar. The detective knelt in front of them.

“Sad, isn’t it? They must have put up one hell of a fight. He was banged up pretty good, although some of it could have been self-inflicted. I don’t think there will be any charges filed against either of you; he’s pretty distraught and not making much sense. What were you doing here, anyway?”

“Walkin’ the dog.” Wolfe nodded at Fluffy.

The detective looked and looked again in disbelief. “That’s a wolf!” The pair just shrugged their shoulders. “I’ll let you know what happens, John. They’ll probably want to talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure, no problem.”

Wolfe rode his Harley up the driveway. Tabbi and Fluffy were on the porch waiting. “Don’t you have a home of your own?”

“Stalker’s in New York again.” She handed Wolfe a beer.

“He pled guilty, didn’t even try to plea bargain.” Wolfe opened the bottle and took a drink. “You must have really scared him.” He said, patting Tabbi on the back.

“More like you did,” Tabbi sighed. “We were lucky we didn’t get in trouble this time.”

“Yeah.” Wolfe sat beside her. “Charmed life and all.” The shadows grew long as the sun set with an orange glow that lit up the clouds in the distance. “You doin’ ok, Mystry?” Tabbi simply nodded. “How come you’re not at work?”

Tabbi looked at her friend. “Stalker won’t let me until I see someone about this."

“Why?” Wolfe asked.

“I grew up like that, ‘trap. Except it was more like slavery. Windsor used to beat the hell out of me for sport. That’s why I left India with Tiki. To escape.”

Wolfe nodded. ”I hate feeling helpless.”

“Me too.”

Wolfe put his arm around Tabbi. “It really sucks, Tabbs. We try our best, but sometimes our best isn’t good enough. I’ve been at this a long time and found that one thing never changes, from Vietnam to today."

“What’s that?”

“Ya can’t save ‘em all, Tabbs. Ya can’t save ‘em all.”