They arrived at an old section of an industrial district. The area smelled of processed foods and furnaces and foundries. They walked into a crowded strip of old buildings with wooded facades which seemed to sell old junk, scrap metal and the likes. A great deal of the buildings were boarded up and looked abandoned. David and Clyde had to go through a fence. 

The whole set up looked as random as could be. Clyde opened a door to one of the old building that read Ferreteria or Hardware Store. David was in disbelief thinking to himself "No way this guy has some sort of high tech crime fighting fortress here," and he was right, he didn't.

Inside was a small room full of trash, cluttered with more metal and scraps. It was tight to walk and navigate through it. Clyde was leading David through though, finally leading into another set of doors that seemed to be hidden.

David again thought "Okay, this is clever. It must be through there."

"Through there," Clyde directed David,

David stepped through with caution and curiosity. Clyde turned on the lights and David saw again little of anything important. What he did see was a shop with some more clutter and some machining tools, electronic equipment and an assortment of fist aid kits and many file cabinets.

"This is it," Clyde said to David

"This is what?" said David with a great level of disbelief.

"This is where I work out of."

"Work? This place is...a dump," said David.

"Sorry no offense," he continued.

"Well, it's not pentagon but it's worked for me for almost a decade," said Clyde with a smile and a lot of pride.

"For what? You some sort of nut?" asked David.

Clyde begun to take his coat and what was clearly armor off.

"Sigh, I guess there really is no nice way to put it. Going out at night with this junk strapped on me, looking for who knows what from who knows who. I can't be right in the head, but that's what I do," he said with some level of melancholy.

"You don't seem crazy. You clearly know this is ridiculous, so why do you do it?" asked David.

"Ridiculous? No, maybe misguided or something but not ridiculous. Others have done more useless things for more meaningless reasons. Something that has meaning, a purpose is not ridiculous," said Clyde with noticeable level of conviction.

"I agree," responded David, understanding the meaning of having a purpose.

"What gives you meaning?" he asked Clyde.

Clyde went quiet, looking down on a shelf with an assortment of things. David could not tell what if anything in particular Clyde was looking at, but his change in demeanor indicated this was something personal.

"It's my boy," Clyde said forcefully.

"He was taken from me about fifteen years ago. The streets took him," said Clyde with pain in his voice.

"I'm sorry to hear that," David said softly.

Clyde pulled out a small tricycle from the shelf.

"He was a smart boy, really playful and curious," Clyde said with a huge smile.

"He was full of life. Always dancing and singing!" he continued, his joyous expression reflecting the vibrancy of the child.

"He wanted to be a star. He was into all that art stuff, plays and singing...He had dreams of making it big too. Even liked going to school because of those classes," Clyde continued looking at the old tricycle.

"He wanted to be a singer I think, I'm not sure anymore. I was working for a military defense contractor and I was not home much. I was the first member of my family to go to college and have a real profession. Now all of that seems meaningless. Things were not as bad then as they are now. My wife would tell me little Louis was having troubles with some kids and I thought it wasn't anything he couldn't solve with some lumps you know? Stand his ground, toughen up some, and quit that dance and jazz stuff...Well, he did stand up for himself and...they shot him. They shot my little boy! All because he didn't want to join their gang. He did what was right and they took him from me!" said Clyde tearing up.

"I never forgave myself and neither could my wife. She left me a while later and I never got over it. Losing my family just like that," he said flicking his sizable fingers.

"The shooter was never caught either. Little Louis just became another poor black kid shot and nothing came from it. So after a few years of losing my life, I decided to look for my own answers. I started hitting the streets to see for myself what was going on," Clyde continued.

"So you built yourself a homemade suit and went out to fight crime?" asked David with a sense of cynicism.

"No, not quite," replied Clyde.

"I used to work for a defense developer. After little Louis was taken, I became more and more buried in work. I moved within departments and took on different projects developing newer weapons. I was on a bloodlust, I guess. Eventually I came across the personnel protection division and was fascinated with the concept of saving lives instead of taking them. But guns are easier and cheaper to sell so the division was sold off. I took a lot of my developments with me and kept working on them. Needless to say all this process took years and year. Finally when I was 'ready' to go out and fight I realized I was too old and not capable mentally and physically to be a crime fighter. I've tried for a few years, getting my damn self nearly killed in the process but I'm just not there anymore. But Lord if I was younger! I would be on such a tear. But now, this old broken body is no good to anyone," Clyde said with melancholy.

"All of this took time, effort, money and now," he said pointing at his works. "The streets are getting worse. It's not a myth. I can prove it too! Something needs to happen; otherwise drugs and gangs are going to tear us apart."

David suddenly begun to realize why Clyde was being so open with him, but he needed to confirm his suspicions.

"Telling everyone you save that you are a closeted crime fighter is probably not the best idea," he said to Clyde.

"Come on man! Give me some credit. I have been doing this for years and nobody knows about it." Replied Clyde insulted.

"Except me, who you just meet. Come on, you expect me to believe that? Why? Why if you have been so careful, why do you risk everything now to show me?" pushed David.

"Risk everything? What is everything? What have I done? Look around son. There aint nothing worth a damn here. Nothing here is illegal. All I've done tonight is step in on an ass-whopping like a good Christian should. Aside from that you don't have me over shit!" asserted Clyde.

David realized he was right but it still did not answer his question.

"True, but you still haven't answered why?"

Clyde was pensive and visibly bothered by the question. He searched for an answer that evaded him. Was it loneliness, or pride in his work that he wanted some recognition for? Perhaps he saw David take on all those thugs and felt a bond or respect or both.

"I brought you because you were being a pest," said Clyde.

"I don't have to explain myself to you anyhow. I did my civic duty and saved your sorry behind so I don't owe you nothing! Matter of fact I don't need to be doing this anymore. I've been hitting the streets for almost a decade now, saving lives and putting my own on hold. I don't have nothing more to prove!" he said emphatically.

His voice thundering through the quiet seclusion of his hideout and his intimidating figure violently gesturing would put most people on edge. David however saw no threat from Clyde's display. All he saw was a proud man coping with his pain. He'd seen it many times before and knew it first hand as well. He respected Clyde's outburst and shut his own mouth for a moment.

"So you're quitting now? After all these years and all this effort and sacrifice you are going to up and quit now? I don't believe you. This is your life's work right here. This is what your life has become now. You need help," said David.

"I'm not crazy! I'm not some nut that needs to talk to some limp wristed, pencil jockey to tell me I need more hugs!" said Clyde.

"No, you need help with all of this," clarified David.

"I don't need help from nobody!" replied Clyde.

"That's why you agreed to bring me here isn't it? You can't do this by yourself, so you are trying to find someone to help," insisted David.

"I'm done with this. I did what I had to do and I don't have anything else to prove!" repeated Clyde.

"You've said that already, and you don't sound convinced. No, you don't want to see your work go unfinished. You just said things are worse now," said David.

"So what, you volunteering? Why would you want to do this?" asked Clyde.

"I don't! I think this is crazy," replied David.

"What's so crazy about it? It may not be the ideal way.."

"Or legal," interrupted David

"Yes, Okay it's not but look around you. Who is doing anything? Streets are a mess, kids are dying and nobody cares. We go fight wars in other lands and just write these kids off as being lost or useless causes. Cops don't care and the ones that might can't do anything. Media don't care, public don't care, government don't care. It's just what it is!" said Clyde passionately.

"That still does not give you the right to take the law into your own hands. You have to trust that the law of the land works," replied David.

"Do you?" asked Clyde.

As a service man, David felt a great deal of confidence and trust in the government. He had a sense of duty to its laws and principles. His experiences both in the field and at home, however, left him with distaste for local law enforcement. He understood Clyde's and the rest of the local's lack of faith in the police being able to effectively slow the wave of violence in the city but still didn't want to encourage this.

He still felt comradery for the police and didn't want to consider that his desire to go back to active duty would also be as ineffective to bring about peace abroad. Whatever the reason, he knew he didn't want to make this particular battle his.

"Doesn't matter what I think. It's against the law and taking the law into your hands is what criminals do," said David.

"Whatever, you may say that but you have not once said it wasn't right," replied Clyde.

David shook his head and smirked.

"So what? You going to turn me in?" asked Clyde.

"No. I'm not. I'm also not going to tell you to stop. You clearly have your reasons to do what you do and even if I don't agree with it, it's not the worst thing going on around here. Besides I could use someone watching my back," he said jokingly to Clyde.

Clyde now more at ease, still wondered to himself why he had brought David with him and shared all of this. Was he seeking validation or merely wanting to share his deeds to someone else. Perhaps he just wanted someone to talk to. 

Whichever the reason Clyde knew David was right. He knew he could not continue on much longer and he questioned whether he had any impact at all. It was clear David was not on board and Clyde had no one else to turn to. He may have to concede defeat. At least now someone knew what he had tried to do.