Mongo lounged on the couch, sleepily watching the dozen or so TV's that were arrayed on the shelves in front of him. It was much warmer in here.

He couldn't understand why the other people would spend the night in the cold alleys and streets when there was plenty of beds here. No one was using them. They were on the floor below, row upon row of them, in various sizes and covered by nice clean sheets. Mongo had found his couch in that same area, for next to the beds was row upon row of various couches. He just grabbed one and hauled it up the silver stairs and plopped it down in front of the TV's. After some searching he found the switch and turned on the TV's.

So he laid, relaxing after a long hard day. He had already devoured 3 boxes of candy bars that he had found on the ground floor and now was starting on the fourth. As the images on the televisions flashed and changed, Mongo's thoughts wandered. He couldn't understand why a person would have so many TV's in one spot for there was no way to watch them all. Mongo knows, because Mongo tried. He was also curious as to why the owner had put red signs next to all of them. Mongo couldn't read the signs, but he recently had learned about letters in the alphabet. The first letter was an 'S' the next was an 'A' then a 'L' then an 'E'

"Good evening and welcome to the ten o'clock news. The top story tonight is the kidnapping of Kristi Brinkly ..."

"KRIS!!", Mongo shouted as he sat bolt upright. Kris! He had finally found her! He had been worried about her ever since she left home two days ago. Now after spending a long and exhausting day searching, he had found her!

The screen displayed a full view of the IDS building. The reporter was explaining that the terrorist were on the roof waiting for the helicopter that they had demanded carrying the ransom money. Those details were lost on Mongo as he had already bolted for the door.

Two policeman, guns drawn, cautiously approached the Dayton department store's main entrance. The door had been jerked clean off its hinges. Officer Oliver Morgan started sweating. He had heard of these supercrooks with strange powers and inhuman abilities, now it looked like that he and his partner, Stanley, were going to meet one. He caught his partner's eye, smiled weakly and whispered "Here's another fine mess you've gotten me into."

"KRIS!!"

< < < C R A S H > > >

The two policeman were sent flying. Mongo didn't even notice them as he crashed through. He didn't even slow down, for the few thoughts that he had were all focused on the IDS building a few blocks down.

The police were busy with crowd control. The news of the kidnapping had brought a horde of curious onlookers. The police had hastily raised a makeshift barrier with some pylons and the bright yellow tape stamped with the words "POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS". Mongo had shouldered his way through the crowd and now confronted the barrier. On the other side he spotted a cop. Mongo knew what cops were, he had seen them on TV a lot. They drove funny looking cars and shot people.

"Hold it!" the cop barked as Mongo began to step over the tape. "You are not allowed in here. Step back."

"But Kris"

"Stand back." The cop advanced right arm outstretched palm forward.

Mongo stepped back a few paces.

The cop, satisfied that the huge man was sufficiently cowed turned back to his walkie-talkie.

"Yes commissioner, everything quiet down here. No problems to report - HOLYSHIT!!"

Still determined, Mongo had backed up a few more steps. Then after a short run he JUMPED. Not only did he clear the barrier, he cleared the building! The cop stared, open-jawed, walkie-talkie slipping from his nerveless fingers as Mongo rocketed up and up and disappeared into the sky.

On the top of the IDS, three terrorist waited impatiently. The youngest of the three, paced and fretted.

<Translated from Arabic>

"<Where is that helicopter?! They MUST be planning something! Perhaps we should cut off the hostage's finger. Perhaps we should make more demands. Perhaps we ...">

The oldest interrupted him, his calm voice reflecting his years of experience.

"<Calm down Abdul. It is all going to plan. Though I do admit it was much simpler in the old days. All we had to do then was toss a grenade in a school bus full of children and make our escape. Simple, clean, and effective.>", he added wistfully.

"<But now because of TV we must use modern methods. The proper use of television was first pioneered by ...>"

"<I wonder what Omar is doing alone with the hostage?>", the third one a female, chimed in. She had heard the lecture on the 'Theory and Practice of Modern Terrorism' several times already tonight and was totally tired of it.

The two men looked at each other and exchanged leering smiles.

Abdul, not long distracted, continued pacing and searching the sky.  Suddenly, he froze and pointed upward.

"<Look, up in the sky. It is a bird?>"

"<No, its a plane>", the experienced one observed.

"<No, its ... I N C O M I N G !!!>", the female shrieked.

< < < C R A S H > > >

Mongo picked himself up and dusted himself off. Scattered about him were the three unconscious forms of the terrorist and the debris of the three floors he had plummeted through.

Where was he? Mongo remembered jumping, then falling and now he finds himself in someone's house. Strange house though, all it seemed to have was corridors and doors. Mongo turned on direction, then another, totally uncertain as to what to do next.

"DIE, AMERICAN IMPERIALIST!". This was followed immediately with a hail of bullets. Mongo, still completely confused, stood and stared as the bullets bounced off him.

The remaining terrorist, limping badly from a vicious kick he had received moments before, charged emptying his clip. Then silence. The terrorist's charge had brought him face to face with Mongo. They stopped and stared at each other for a long moment. The terrorist pulled the trigger.

Click, click.

Mongo causally took the gun away from the stunned terrorist. Then Mongo leaned forward and bellowed "WHERE IS KRIS!"

Terrorists of course, are well known for their bravery. He fainted deadaway.

"Help", a small frightened voice called.

Mongo followed the sound down the corridor and into an office. It was a beautiful spacious office, much bigger and beautifuler than the office backat...

"W..Who's there?" a quavery voice queried. The voice came from the other side of a couch. Mongo hurried over, pleased that his quest was now over. There, hands tied to the couch was the incredibly sensual, supermodel Kristi Brinkley. Mongo's face registered severe disappointment.

"You not Kris!"

"Please help me", she whimpered, struggling against her bonds. Mongo ripped the ropes apart like so much tissue paper. She leaped up and embraced him, sobbing.

"Oh thankyou thankyou thankyou. It was so frightening. He was going to..." and she lapsed into a fit of hysterical sobbing. A few moments later, she stopped, wiped her eyes, took a deep breath then said "Let's get out ofhere". Mongo, with one arm protectively around her shoulders lead her back down the corridor.

As they drew near to Omar, he was just recovering from his fainting spell. He groaned and struggled to his knees. Without breaking stride, Kristi kicked him full in the face and he went down for the count.

"You did all that??", Kristi exclaimed, pointing the huge hole in the ceiling, and the one beyond that, and the one beyond that.

"Mongo sorry. Mongo not mean to break roof. Please not tell. Mongo get in trouble."

Kristi looked him up and down. Who is this person? Whoever he was, she owed him bigtime. Not knowing what to say, she stalled by stepping away and fussing with her hair.

"Well, how do I look?"

"You look real pretty"

Kristi had been showered with compliments on her appearance all her life. But somehow, that simple, but sincere compliment touched her. Well that settles it. She is not sure what the authorities would do to him, but she did know the ordeal the press would put him through. It was her turn to rescue him.

"Listen, Mongo, I won't tell. But the, ah owners, will be coming in soon. They might get mad at you.", she explained trying to keep the words as simpleas possible, "so you go hide, wait for everyone to leave then sneak out."

"Ah... O.K", Mongo replied. He turned to leave.

"Wait." Kristi walked over to the remains of a desk that used to be on the floor above. She grabbed a pen, dug around a little then pulled out a pad of paper. She scribbled briefly then handed the paper to Mongo.

"If you are ever in trouble call me at this number."

Mongo didn't quite understand what she meant, but it was something good. He accepted the note graciously. "Mongo like you."

Kristi smiled. Then the noise of an approaching helicopter intruded on the scene. Mongo knew what that meant. The owners were coming. With a final wave, he turned and ran off.

"Maybe he wanted to get in from the cold.", Stan supplied.

Oliver cuffed Stanely playfully. "You should know better than that. Supercrooks don't get cold. He turned to leave, muttering under his breath,"wanted to get in from the cold indeed."