Michael Dowder had arrived in Detroit two days ago and was not planning to stay much longer than he needed. Michael was what he termed a wanderer. He had had a nice home once but had left it due to loosing his wife and 3 year old son.

     He had been a sergeant in the Special Forces and had participated in missions both inside and outside the USA where he had occasionally lost men under him that he had cared about. Even though he had to be tough with his men he treated each one as a son looking out for them and trying to get them through each mission.

      The speciality of his group had involved deactivating and terminating terrorist activities, which threatened American citizens. There were a few other teams that he had occasionally worked with from time to time but they were few and far between.

      His world had come crashing down 2 years before, after the death of his wife and 3 year old son. She had been returning from visiting friends in New York City when the bomb went off. All he knew at the time was that flight 223 from New York to Washington DC had been bombed. His group had been put on immediate alert as information came in about the group responsible. That night they hit the terrorist safe house and were able to take one of the members alive. The other five were not so unlucky.

      After handing their prisoner over to the CIA he had returned to the base. The sight of his commanding officer and two FBI agents greeted him on his return. They told him sadly, that one of the passengers on the bombed plane had been his wife. She had decided to come home a day earlier than planned.

      He had taken it very hard and wept openly when he heard the news. It was even worse for him when he found out later that the government had know before hand about the bomb threat and had done little or nothing to prevented it from happening. As his unit was one of the ones that was trained such situations including bomb threats he should have been told, but he had no been. If he had been told maybe his wife and child would have been still alive.

      He resigned his commission immediately and the betrayal he felt burnt deep within him. They had tried to support him as well as they could but nothing could make up for his loss and deep down he could not forgive the government for their deaths. He suspected that they must have known a lot more than they had revealed.

      He was still quite young when he had left the Forces. He had no close family and her parents had died years before. He decided that he wanted to get as far away from anything that reminded him of their deaths. He started wandering from place to place, never staying too long and never getting involved with anyone. He did not want to be reminded of his pain.

      He had plenty of money available and the government had given him more, as compensation, after their deaths. He always cursed them for that, as if money could ease his suffering. It felt like blood money to him and he didn't like using it. But it did help on some occasions when he needed extra funds for a project.

      His projects as he called them were helping people in need. Once he had helped a man being harassed into leaving his farm. A local developer has seen an opportunity for a quick buck as the farm was on the outskirts of a developing town. Using his extra resources and the contacts he still had with friends still in the forces he had managed to gather enough evidence to convict the developer and save the farm.

      It had been a nice place to stay for that short time. He had always felt a fondness towards animals and was even more pleased to help when he saw that the farmer was kind towards his animals. The farmer's dogs were also friendly and he enjoyed their company when he had take walks around the property. He spent a good two weeks there while the people responsible were charged and he totally enjoyed the rural setting.

       Today though he was just passing through as he usually did.

      Just as he was passing by an alley he was distressed to hear distresses barks and yelps coming from it. He looked down the alley and saw a group of about 5 youths gathered about a hundred meters down it. He noticed that they had what looked like sticks or broom handles in their hands and they waved them towards something in a corner of the alley. Then just as one of them lashed out there was another desperate yelp and he suddenly understood.

      He rushed down the alley towards them keeping silent as he approached. He didn't want to give them any warning before he got there. As he got closer he saw the object of their attentions. It was a large Alsatian. It was chained to a rail of a fire escape and was not able to move more than a few feet in any direction. He had always been fond of that breed. He had been involved with them on several occasions as part of his training and had always hoped to have one when he had the time.

      He noticed that there were in fact 7 youths there. Two of them had been out of sight from where he had first seen them. Two of them were girls while the other 5 were boys. They ranged from their late teens to early twenties. He wanted to teach them a lesson they would not soon forget. He wanted them to know what it must be like for the poor animal.

       Michael stepped up behind one of the boys in the centre of the circle who was holding a sturdy pole. As the punk brought his arm back for another poke at the poor do Michael grabbed the pole and jammed his straight fingers into the boys side doubling him over in pain. Michael stepped past him to stand in front of the dog and in the gaze of the whole group.

      The taunts from the group stopped abruptly as he faced them. The one that he had used the pressure point jab on was rolling on the ground in agony as he quickly scanned the group and assessed his options. Michael had always had an advantage over opponents in that his looks did not reflect his abilities. Even though he had never looked over muscular he had always been able to both over power and kill people who thought that they had an advantage over him. He had always used their overconfidence against them.

      Now he faced them he could almost read their thoughts. There were still 6 of them to be dealt with and they each had a weapon in hand ready. He hoped that he would be able to drive them off before he caused them too much damage as he had never like killing unless absolutely necessary. They were still only young and not any real match for him. Still it would be hard for him to properly defend himself and the dog while restraining his full abilities.

      As he stood there he could here that the dog had also fallen silent behind him. He knew though that even if the dog was dangerous he would be just outside her range of attack by several inches.

      The expression on the faces of the youths slowly dissolved from looks of shock and surprise to those of hate and calculation. He had effectively taken away their fun and they seemed to think they could take their fun out on him now. He was sorry about that as he knew that by the time this was over there would be several of them that would require hospital treatment for broken bones.

      Several of the punks reached into their pockets and pulled out flip knives just before they started to advance on him. The first too attack seemed to be the oldest one there and was probably the leader. He swung his poll directly at Michael's head and tried to use the distraction to stab forward with the long blade into Michael's side. Michael easily deflected the blow with his own pole and twisted past the blade. He grabbed the wrist of the youth and twisted it sharply.

      There was a dull crack as the bones in the wrist broke and the youth let go of the knife that he held. The punk gave out a sharp yell of pain as Michael released the wrist and used the momentum of the lunge to propel the punk past him and into two others advancing from another direction, sending all three into a sprawling pile.

      Sensing that the other punk who had been standing beside the first was advancing as well, he ducked down and twisted around bringing the pole over in an arch. It struck one of the youths across the bridge of the nose with a loud crack. Immediately the youth dropped both the poll and the knife he had been carrying and brought his hands up to his nose just as the blood started to pour out. Michael knew that the punks nose was shattered and he would need treatment for it. Suddenly there was a loud yell behind him. He spun quickly around to see one of the girls behind him and a knife dropping from her hand. The Alsatian had its teeth locked around the girl's lower arm and twisted its head a few times before letting the bleeding arm go.

      At this point the youths must have decided that the fun had totally worn off as they turned suddenly and scampered off down the alley, with their wounded companions, leaving the dog and Michael alone.

      Michael looked around quickly to make sure they were actually alone and then turned to face the dog. It stood there looking at him with weary eyes breathing hard. He slowly crouched in front of it and extended his hand slowly for the dog to sniff. He remained alert though for any sign that he dog would attack. It was obviously scared and looked weak.

      The dog slowly approached and sniffed his scent cautiously. Its look went from one of wariness to one of happiness very quickly. The dog licked his hand and opened it mouth in a pant. Michael moved slowly closer and reached out with his hand to behind the dog's head. He pushed the dog backwards slowly as he slackened the chain around its throat and then pulled the loop of chain over the head.

      The dog stood quietly as he did this and did not try to escape. He suspected that the dog had a home somewhere and that it had either got lost or had been taken. Wild dogs on the street normally didn't like to be touched too much by humans and would have tried to escape. He stroked his hands slowly across the dog's body feeling the bones and muscles under the soft fur. It stood silently, apart for a few quiet whines, as his fingers passed over sensitive spots.

      He found out two things. The dog was female and as far as he could tell she had only small abrasions and bruises. It seemed that he had arrived on the scene quite soon after the torment had started.

      Although she looked well fed she seemed very weak and had a slight tremble. He noticed a puddle of sick against the side of the alley that looked like it had large pieces of half chewed raw meat. He suspected that someone had put out poisoned meat and that she had eaten it. He felt intense anger at that. What kind of people would deliberately put out poisoned meat that would cause a dog to possibly suffer an agonising death.

      As he crouched in front of her the dog lifted its head and licked the side of his face. He smiles and ruffled her fur on her head and stroked down her back.

      Michael stood and thought for a moment. He could not leave the dog here alone on the streets. It was obvious that if he did she would eventually suffer a similar incident and he would not be able to protect her. He didn't think he would be able to take her with him either as travelling on the road with a domestic dog would not be fair to her. Most domestic dogs would not have the right training to survive on the move through different areas. Either she would get shot in the country for chasing and attacking farm animals because of her instincts or she might fall prey to others that thought to harm her.

      It would be best for her to get her too some place safe.

      He retrieved his bag and looked through it a moment. He took out a short length of rope and leather strap that he had in his pack. He tied the rope to the strap and the slowly approached the dog. She stood there silently looking at him as he made up the makeshift collar and leash and as he approached she whined and crouched down. She had an almost pleading look in her eyes.

      "Look girl, I have to do this. I can't have you running off and getting into more trouble before I can get you help."

      She stopped whining but still didn't look happy as he placed the strap around her neck.

      He stood up and looked at her sorrowful eyes looking back at him.

      "Really I am sorry girl. Come on then.... Lets get you looked at and fixed up."

      She stood and followed him quietly on the leash as he picked up his bag and headed back up the alley to the street.