Game Date 04.01.2001

Luckiest Man in the World's Luck Runs Out

Dateline: 03.31.2001 - San Francisco Examiner

Frank William Flaherty, the so called "World's Luckiest Man," died Friday in an auto accident. Flaherty apparently lost control of the stolen car he was driving and ran off of a cliff. Flaherty, the five-time winner of the California Lottery, is survived by his sister Deputy Mayor Mary Frances Flaherty. Frank Flaherty was 33.

At least that was what the papers and human-interest news stories were saying.

"Maybe its a good thing that I'm dead," Frank thought.

It had started about six months ago after he had turned down yet another scientific study. Frank had finally gotten used to scientists wanting to poke and prod him to find out why he was so lucky. Just because he had won a few contests and had became a multi-millionaire playing the stock market as well as walking away from several deadly crashes with out serious injury, he was called lucky. It had become painfully obvious to Frank that everyone else wanted a bit of luck for themselves. The more superstitious the person was, the more they wanted his luck.

Criminals, paranormal and otherwise, were the worst of the lot. On several occasions, Frank had been approached by shady individuals trying to get him to be part of some scheme or another. Some had threatened violence. Some had even kidnapped Frank to force him to be party to their plans.

Through it all, he had managed to stay clear of entanglements and live life on his own terms. Now things had changed. It was no longer his crazy luck, good or bad, that he was dodging but deliberate attempts on his life. Frank didn't know who was behind it but he was going to find out.

He had been on the run for the last couple of months. The nightmare had started when his house had been blown to bits. Frank had done his best to stay low and out of sight. Yet, some how the press had been able to track his every move. Well maybe not every move he made, but it sure did seem like.

Every time Frank thought he had ducked his pursuers and could breath easy for a bit, fate would intervene. If he was lucky, a camera and microphone wielded by some nosy reporter, would be stuck in his face. The few times he hadn't been lucky it had been a maniac with a gun, lightning bolt or bomb suddenly showing up to wreak havoc on Frank and his surrounding.

Good luck had been with yesterday. Frank had been hitchhiking to San Francisco to talk with his sister before losing himself to his investigations. A guy in a VW Rabbit had stopped and picked him up. Frank had no way to know that the car had been stolen. After a few miles the guy had pulled a gun, taken Frank's wallet and forced him out of the car. Maybe the brakes failed or maybe the accelerator stuck, Frank did not know which as he watched the guy speed off then suddenly swerve off the road and over the side of the cliff.

Apparently the only id found on the guy had been Frank's wallet, so naturally the press jumped to the conclusion that would sell the most papers.

Frank smiled as he re-read the Examiner's story about his death.

"Yeah, maybe its a good thing that I'm dead," Frank thought.

He finished his breakfast, paid the bill and started walking south towards San Francisco. His sister was certainly going to be surprised to see him.

After walking a few miles, Frank saw a highway patrol cruiser headed his way. Not wanting to lose the newly found freedom that his "death" had given him, Frank avoided the patrol car by taking a side road towards the coast.

He soon arrived at the gates of an estate. The plaque on the gate read, "Wardens North Bay, Property of the Alcatraz Foundation."

Frank smiled and walked through the open gates. As he headed down the winding tree lined drive, Frank stumbled over a crack in the pavement. After he had regained his balance, Frank looked up to see John Battle hiding in the trees.

He called out to the old friend of the family and identified himself. John Battle smiled and said that it great to see that the reports of Frank's death were a bit premature. The two walked to the main house.

After talking for a while John agreed to let Frank stay at the estate and get things sorted out.