Feet pounded the bleachers in time with the music adding to the chaos. Lights overpowered the night, erasing the full moon and stars from existence. Twenty-one boys took up their position while the last scanned the array from left to right. Three quick barks and everything began to move.
As over a dozen collided the one dropped back from the melee, bringing the ovoid to his ear as he searched the distance. A target streaked left to right, pursued closely by another. The secondary hooked in but was blocked. The third had become entangled with two. Seeing no option, the arm came down to tuck the ball in tight and the carrier took off.
All eyes turned to him as the few on the field zeroed in on his movements like a homing missile. The first to reach him met a hand to the top of his head and was pushed aside. The next two arrived in tandem only to be deflected by the runner's teammates. The last waited, judging the point of intercept and launched himself. Four yards short of the line the boy lunged, willing to sacrifice his body to bring down the runner but when he hit the tuff his target was gone.
Two thousand four hundred and six watched the runner, Mark Law, vault the defender and sail across the goal line, thirty feet in the air. About a thousand began to celebrate. Another thousand booed. The remained stood in silent awe or sudden, determined hatred. One grinned broadly as his son landed on the clay track fifteen yards beyond the goal posts.
On October 25, 1983, Mark Law was born on an army base just as millions of children before him. His father, a career US Army officer, was at that moment making a landing on the Caribbean island of Granada as Company Commander 'Easy' Company, 1st Ranger Battalion, 75th Ranger Regiment. The elder Law commanded his men with a stern, competent, fairness that made him a popular commander and placed him on a fast track up the ladder.
Captain Law remained with the 1st Ranger for much of Mark's life advancing to Major by the time the 75th joined in the invasion of Panama in 1989 and the Lt. Colonel in 1991 for Operation Desert Storm. When his 17 year old son manifested his powers during a football game, Law had attained the rank Lt. General and was stationed at the Pentagon.
General Julius Law beamed at his son, his desert blasted face unaccustomed to outward displays of emotion. The man, Miller, had arrived three days after the controversial finish to what would be his son's last game and offered the boy the world. Mark looked up at his normally stoic father, his face a mask of confusion.
"I CAN go, right, dad?" The boy said.
The man clinched his fists above his chest in obvious jubilation. "YES!" he declared. "Of COURSE you can go!"
Throughout the boy's life he had worshipped his father, proud of his military service to his country. No one, including Mark ever doubted that he would follow in his dad's footsteps and become a Ranger. The sudden revelation of his superpowers change only one thing, Mark would NOT be going into the Army; instead he would become a new type of warrior, defending his country at home. Without hesitation he chose the codename 'Ranger' and joined the Minutemen.
Mark came to the school on Point Loma at the beginning of his senior year. One of those unlucky enough to have a birthday not long after the beginning of the school year had seemed to doom him to forever be the oldest in his class. This time, it had been to his advantage.
