Since he became a part-time superhero, Jones has faced down skinheads wearing brass knuckles, disarmed people wielding screwdrivers as weapons, chased down a man firing a gun in the air, and stopped one homeless man from stabbing another. He identifies with the main character, Nightwing, because he doesn't always prevail in a fight, and he actually gets hurt. He's got the latest edition of "Love and Bullets" in a red plastic bag next to the taser that is disguised as a cell phone in the Kia's console. Jones, not surprisingly, is a huge comic book fan. "It would hinder my ability to fight crime." "To be a police officer, there's so much red tape," Jones says. He would fight crime on the rain-slicked streets of Seattle. He picked up the mask, turned it over in his hand, and realized what he had to do. A few weeks later, one of his friends was beaten up at a nightclub, and while running after the assailants Jones came across a ski mask they'd tossed in the bushes. The boy survived, but Jones' faith in humanity was bruised. As the pair ran to investigate, the boy slipped on the broken glass and cut his knee so badly that blood spurted out of it, all over the car. The two were walking back to the Kia through a parking lot at the Wild Waves amusement park in Federal Way last summer when Jones saw that his car window had been smashed. The car hasn't been washed in over a year, Jones explains on the way to "Base 2" (his godmother's house) because there's a blood stain on it that reminds him why he decided to don cape and cowl in the first place. The baby will not be fighting crime with us tonight, Jones says. There is a toddler in a baby carrier in the back seat. Once I'm deemed harmless, a filthy white Kia sedan pulls up, an African-American man wearing a ski mask behind the wheel.
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