Most of the building had been reduced to bricks and bulldozed into piles. The walls that remained were pocked by wrecking-ball holes. The next day the crane operator would finish the job. The deconstruction and reconstruction project was funded by monies set aside in Washington D.C. It was part of the WPA and intended to help the down trodden find jobs, but there were middlemen eager to cash in.
Carson, the President the Citadel Bank, was an unapologetic greedy man. He prided himself as a deal maker and a master at acquiring unallocated government funds, and diverting large portions of it into his wallet. Like in all business deals, there were winners and losers. Carson liked to win big. The more opponents he defeated in a single deal the sweeter the victory. He and his associates felt that an undesirable element infested their city and they wanted them out. They wanted the tenements gone and replaced with luxury apartments that would increase the value of their recently acquired property. Although that’s not the way they presented the deal to others.
The tenants failed to see necessity of tearing down a solid, safe building to put up another one. They tried to obstruct the plan. But by chicanery they missed their day in court. Due to a questionable legal maneuver and a colorful interpretation of eminent domain law, their home was destroyed with no chance for appeal. The tenants didn’t drop the issue. Everyday since the demolition began they've picketed at the edge of the property. They were persistent and started to bring attention to what seemed like a crime. Carson and his partners didn’t like it.
The evicted tenants protested all day, calling out for justice from anyone that would listen, but at night they rested. In their stead a mysterious black car lurked in their place. Through one-way, night-vision windshields, the driver surveyed the demolition site with binoculars. Betty wore a gray suit that was woven from a special material that protected her body. She wore long dark gloves and boots with rubber soles to keep her steps silent. A hood and goggles hid her features. She called the ensemble her costume.
For weeks Betty followed Carson. She hated him. He foreclosed on her family's farm. He ruined their lives and Betty wasn't one to let a grudge die. In fact she was willing to go to extreme lengths to exact revenge on her designated enemy. She wanted to punish him. She wanted to hurt him.
She originally thought that when Carson took her family farm, he was stealing. But she was forced to concede that he had done nothing illegal as she researched the matter. But that didn't stop it from being wrong. And that didn't mean all his business dealings were on the up-and-up. How many legitimate business meetings took place at 3 AM?
Her plan was to catch him doing something illegal, and then turn him over the police. Unfortunately, she discovered it wasn't that easy. Men like Carson committed crimes all the time, but they were slippery creatures, and good at not getting caught. She'd been spying on him for weeks, but discovered nothing. She was frustrated. This was his second visit to the old Paragon. She saw him go in but wasn't sure if he was still there. Even with her night vision windshield there was a lot of debris and plenty of places to hide on the site. He could have easily snuck away. It wouldn't be the first time she lost him during her pursuit. Spying wasn’t as easy as she had imagined.
She wondered if she could get some kind of listening device to help her. The thought was interrupted.
BANG!
A single crack of a gunshot echoed through the demolition site.
Betty slinked out of her car to investigate. She slid into the site and glided through the shadows. The city seemed to be made from them. She heard the sounds of digging and crept in closer. Movement caught her eye and she froze.
Two men were up to no good. One was mixing cement in a trough with a shovel. The other was dragging a dead, black man to a deep pit. She didn't recognize any of them, but it wasn't too hard to identify who the bad guys were. She plotted her attack, but before she could move she felt a presence behind her.
A man’s voice said, “We don’t like being spied on.”
She ducked as the oaf tried to bear hug her. She dropped to the ground to avoid his grip then slid her body between his wide stance and got behind him. She kicked out the back of his knees and he fell. As he came down she delivered a powerful kick to the back of his head. He went over. A second man came around the corner in time to see her strike. He turned and yelled out, "Hey Rube!"