Not a Museum Robbery

           The bulked up guy ripped the door off the car and hurled it at the Ghost.  The Ghost took the liberty of turning invisible as he dodged out of the way.  He ducked behind a truck before reappearing.  "Come on; it can't be that hard to hit a target that's right in front of you, can it?"  The Ghost pointed at the red bull's eye on the center of his bulletproof vest, then vanished again.  A seat headed for where he'd been, clipping the truck's windshield and cracking it.  The car alarm started going off.
           Forerunner sighed.  Provoking the villains again.  He just hoped that didn't come back to haunt him... again.  Zipping behind the criminal while his attention was on the Ghost, he stuck a taser in that lowlife's back.
           The Ghost grinned, standing only a few steps in front of the guy, whose back arched in pain, causing him to drop the bag of valuables.  Fast as a blur, Forerunner snatched it and put a little distance between him and the crook.  Just as the jerk was trying to catch his breath, The Ghost appeared and gave him a good whack to the head.  He got another punch in to the gut before the guy swatted him down and he vanished, barely rolling out of the way in time as the man's massive fist hit.  His blow cracked the concrete.
           Just in time, Forerunner darted up behind him again, giving a good chop to the miscreant's neck and knee to his back that dropped the man.  The Ghost finished him off with a strong punch to the jaw, then tugged his arms behind him, locking his wrists into handcuffs.
           "Hey, you had handcuffs for once," remarked Forerunner.
           "Lucky break."  The Ghost stood, brushed himself off and turned to walk out of the museum parking lot.  The alarms meant the police would be here any moment.

           Forerunner walked by him as they walked out, mentioning.  "You know, we probably should have tried talking him down first."
           The Ghost snorted.  "Like that'd have worked."  Forerunner laughed.
           "Maybe not with you around."
           "Hey, I'm going to go grab a drink.  You wanna come?  First one's on me."
           "Can't; I'm meeting the family for dinner.  Ritchie's home for the weekend."
           "Tell 'em I said hi then.  You go ahead and daydream about the time I'll be having."
           "Catch you later," Forerunner called as he zipped off.  The Ghost raised his hand and headed down the street to get his sportscar.