At midnight that night, when I heard Uncle Josh snoring loudly in the room across the hall and made sure that Mom and Dad were both sound asleep, I donned my Trickshot costume and flew out to downtown Rumsfeld, to the scene of the assassination of Baron Glory. It was dangerous to fly around Rumsfeld at all times of day, even at night due to the presence of so many streetlights, but nighttime was still the best time for me to be active because most people slept at night and those few people who remained awake were generally not focused on the sky. Rumsfeld didn’t have much of a night life, so to speak.
In less than an hour, I landed on the rooftop of the apartment building where the assassin had taken his shot and looked around quickly. I was all alone up here, with nary a soul in sight, b
