Just Cause: Revised & Expanded Edition Read online

  She charged at him, but he sprayed something onto the floor behind him as he flew toward the exit. Sally couldn’t avoid the puddle and lost all her traction. She flipped into the air as her arms and legs pin wheeled. The stuff coated her like oil and she bounced and slid all the way to the front doors. She skittered over shards of glass and steel and her costume shredded against them.

  Destroyer burst out of the building. Trix tried to engage him but was slapped aside for his efforts, crashing through one of the few undamaged windows on that side of the building. Sally watched, unable to do anything as Destroyer’s main engines glowed white hot and launched him into the overcast skies like a missile.

  Sally watched the bright spark of engine exhaust recede into the distance, and then bowed her head and felt every bit a failure.

  Chapter Three

  - Parahumans exhibit a common genetic marker.

  - The presence of the genetic marker doesn’t guarantee active parahuman abilities.

  - Parahuman abilities violate known physical laws.

  To summarize: There’s far more that we don’t know than we do know about parahumans.

  -“The Origin of Parapowers” by Dr. Matasuko Musashi, 1995

  January, 2004

  Denver, Colorado

  Sally sat in the oversized chair and tried not to squirm. She had only been in Juice’s office for a few minutes, but it felt like hours while he glanced through the pertinent parts of her file. She fumed with each slow and deliberate turn of a page.

  Patience was a challenge for a speedster.

  She’d debated whether to wear her costume, and even went so far as to discuss it with her mother, who suggested that business attire would be more professional. She wanted to make a good impression on the man whom she’d known as long as she could remember, but the mere idea of a blazer and skirt made her itch and chafe. Her mother even offered to go shopping with her and played the ultimate card of offering to pay for it, but Sally wouldn’t hear of it. She dug through the recesses of her closet and found a pair of slacks she could stand to wear and a silky white button-down shirt. She added a muted navy cardigan and figured she looked good enough for anything Juice could throw at her.

  Juice had always looked big from afar when she’d seen him at various events attended by Just Cause. As a Just Cause alumnus, her mother often went and brought Sally along to introduce her to heroes past and present as my future Just Cause member. Now that she sat in front of him, he seemed gigantic. He was the kind of black man who looked stylish with his head shaved, and he dressed in Italian silk and leather. He’d gone to law school and been a part-time member of Just Cause in his early twenties. Her mom swore he was the smartest man she’d ever met.

  He leaned his considerable frame back in an expensive chair as he turned the pages in Sally’s file. His build and demeanor gave no indication of his unique ability to absorb electricity and convert it into pure strength and resistance to physical damage. “Hmm…” He looked over the edge of his reading glasses at her. “So you’d like to join the team?”

  Sally swallowed and licked her lips, her mouth dry as the air in her hometown of Phoenix. She stammered “Y-yes sir,” and hated herself for it. In the Hero Academy, oral exams had always made her queasy. So did interviews, she was learning.

  “Why?”

  Sally had a thousand reasons to want to be a part of Just Cause: because her mother had been a member; because her father had been killed by Destroyer; because her grandmother was one of the first American superheroes; because she’d watched while members of Just Cause had lost their lives in the destruction of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in 2001; because she wanted to be part of the greatest superhero team in the world.

  She opened her mouth to reply and all her pat answers flew away like dandelion seeds on a puff of wind.

  Juice smiled. “Tell you what, Sally. This office feels pretty formal. Let’s head down to the cafeteria. The coffee’s fair and the sandwiches are pretty good.” His chair creaked as he drew himself up to his full six foot ten. He held open his office door for her. Sally felt like a toddler next to him. “How is Arizona?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t get home much this Fall.”

  “Beautiful country down that way. If it wasn’t so hot, I’d enjoy it more. I’ve still got enough East Coast in me to prefer a more urbane setting. How do you like it here in Denver?”

  “It’s nice,” she said. “Running’s easier up here.”

  “Even though there’s less air to breathe?”

  She shrugged. “You get used to it after awhile.”

  They took the corridor from Juice’s office to the main lobby. A Native American woman with magnificent feathered wings had just checked in through Security and stepped away from the retinal scanner. She smiled at them with dazzling white teeth, which contrasted her flawless brown skin. The woman’s eyes had bright yellow irises and large pupils like those of a bird. Sally recognized her as Desert Eagle, although they’d never met before.

  “Hi, James. Who’s your friend?” Sally felt very small; the winged woman was over six feet tall as well.

  “Sondra, this is Salena Thompson, also known as Mustang Sally. Sally, Sondra Eagle, also known as Desert Eagle.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Salena. Are you in the Academy?”

  “I finished this past summer. And you can call me Sally.”

  “Are you going to do your internship with us?”

  “I hope so,” Sally said with a sidelong glance at Juice, who beamed back at her.

  “What’s your gig?” Sondra flexed her wings. Her broad and powerful shoulders filled out the custom overcoat she wore against the freezing wind outside.

  “I’m a speedster.”

  Sondra smiled. “I thought so. I’m sure you’ll do just fine. We need a speedster to fill out the ranks.” Sondra said farewell and headed off into the depths of the headquarters building.

  The cafeteria was larger than Sally expected, but then she remembered it catered not only to the team, but also to Just Cause’s hundred-and-some civilian employees.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Juice asked her as he poured a large cup of his own.

  “Uh, not really. It makes me jittery at super-speed.” Sally had been prepared for a typical job interview, not Juice’s casual friendliness. She didn’t know how to play along with his game.

  “Grab whatever you want, then come and sit down and we’ll finish.” He strolled over to a table and sat down.

  She didn’t know what else to do so she took the first thing she saw—a bag of chips—and went over to him.

  Juice had appropriated a large blueberry muffin and was spreading butter on it as Sally sat down. He smiled at her. “Did you always want to be a superhero?”

  “Well, sure. I mean, my mom and grandma were, and I’m faster than both of them. What else could I do?”

  “You could have a normal life. Go to college, get a job, meet the right guy. Ever think of doing that instead?”

  “No, not really. I guess I always wanted to do this.”

  “You got very high marks in combat training at the Academy. How was training alongside the Lucky Seven?”

  “It was cool. I learned a lot from them.”

  “Before the incident with Destroyer, had you ever been in a real combat situation before?”

  Sally shook her head. She still had bad dreams about the giant blue battlesuit and her hatred of the man it contained.

  “I’ve read the reports, of course, but I’d like to hear it in your own words. Tell me about what happened in Chicago.” Juice swallowed the last of his muffin and took a sip of his coffee.

  “Destroyer took out Bullet with some kind of goopy stuff that wrapped him up. Then he used a portable electromagnetic pulse to ruin Spark’s equipment and Stratocaster’s guitar. He broke Carousel’s legs when we tried to take out his guns. He knocked out the others with a stun grenade.” She bowed her head. “I guess we didn’t
give a very good accounting of ourselves.”

  “What about you?” Juice finished his coffee and set the cup back on the table.

  “He sprayed some kind of lubricant on the floor.” Sally felt her face grow hotter. “I hit it and slid across some broken glass. Tore up my costume some.”

  “Were you hurt?”

  “Not really. Just my pride.” Sally sighed. “I didn’t really accomplish much either. It’s hard discovering that you’re ineffective in a real battle after spending so many years in practice.”

  Juice smiled. “Listen, Sally, Destroyer has taken down heroes far more experienced than you. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. Quite the contrary, you should be proud you even faced him at all.”

  Sally couldn’t look at him. “Even though I didn’t do anything right?” She couldn’t believe herself. Worst. Interview. Ever.

  “You survived your first real parahuman combat with nothing worse than a wounded pride. That is a lot better than how most heroes fare. They can teach you all the great theories and situational tactics they want at the Academy, but when you get right down to it, real life has very little to do with the classroom. Believe me, any fight you can run, walk, limp, or crawl away from is one in which you did well.”

  Sally felt her admiration grow for him. As a lawyer, he’d learned to use language to great effect, and his words soothed her discomfort like aloe on a sunburn.

  “How are the others in the Lucky Seven?”

  “They’re okay. Mostly they were just stunned—minor bumps and bruises, that sort of thing. Carousel’s back on light duty. Her systems self-repair so long as she has access to power and raw materials.”

  “Good. Now then…” He leaned back. “Sondra was absolutely right. We do need a speedster. Think you’re up to the task?”

  Words jammed up Sally’s mouth so she could only nod in stunned silence. She’d known for years Just Cause was her destiny, but it surprised her to have the opportunity in front of her all the same.

  Juice grinned back at her and pulled a phone from his pocket. He thumbed a switch on it. “Harris?” A voice responded in acknowledgement. “We’ve got a new intern. Can you please prepare her quarters and arrange for her paperwork and badge?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Juice switched channels and spoke again. “Jason?”

  “Yeah?” said a different voice from the phone.

  “I’ve got a young lady here who is in need of a tour. I think you’re just the man to handle that job.”

  “I’ll be right there, boss.”

  “Give her about an hour to settle into her quarters.”

  “Yes, sir. One hour, sir.”

  Juice chuckled to himself, closed the phone and tucked it back into his jacket pocket. “Do you remember Jason Tibbets? He graduated from the Academy two years ago.”

  “I’m not sure, uh, sir.” Despite throwing herself into her studies at the Academy, she couldn’t have forgotten the tall blonde boy who had been two years ahead of her even if she’d wanted to. All the girls in her dorm had spoken at length about his dreamy eyes and gentlemanly manners. She’d been enamored of him at first, although she found her studies to take far more of her time than she could spare for crushing on boys.

  “Perhaps you’d know him as Mastiff,” said Juice. “And you can knock off the sir. Jason just does that to needle me. I’m not one for military formality and all that. Just make sure you follow orders when we’re out in the field and you’ll be fine calling me Juice, or James, or even Hey You! Just so long as I know it’s me.”

  “I will, sir. I mean, Juice.”

  The big man leaned his head back and laughed. “You’ll fit in just fine here, Mustang Sally. Welcome to Just Cause.”

  Chapter Four

  “The most common occurrence when two parahumans meet is a fight, ostensibly blamed on ‘mistaken identities.’ It’s a form of establishing dominance like one might find in any other type of social situation. The second most common occurrence is mutual attraction. If parahumans are truly genetic mutants they could conceivably be a separate race from mankind. And like any other race, they must propagate or risk extinction.”

  -Dr. Lane Devereaux, appearing on Larry King Live, March 4, 1993

  January, 2004

  Denver, Colorado

  “Just breathe into the tube,” said the balding man named Harris.

  Sally blew into the glass tube that emerged from his device. The machine emitted clicks as it processed information and spat out a credit card a minute later. “What is it?”

  “Genetic key,” said Harris. “It’s the best security we have. Your genetic code is imprinted upon the badge. It’ll only work if it has contact with your living skin. If someone else tries to use your card, it raises an alarm in the Command Center. Can’t be too careful these days.”

  Sally picked up her new badge and looked it over. It identified her as a Just Cause intern. “What if I lose it?”

  “Come back here and we’ll retest your code. If it matches, we’ll just issue you a new card. If it doesn’t, well, it’s probably not really you so it becomes our problem, not yours. You don’t have an evil twin, do you?”

  “No. I’m an only child.”

  “Good.” He handed her a box from inside a cabinet. “Here’s your duty gear.”

  She examined the items in the box as Harris inventoried them for her. “Walkie-talkie satellite PC phone… these are state-of-the-art, but we replace them every six months whether they need it or not, the way they keep improving the technology. These babies work anywhere in the world as long as you’re not deep underground or underwater.”

  “Cool.”

  He pointed out the uniform and clothing requisition form. “Just fill in your sizes now. The tailor will get your costume specs later. Our in-house shop will handle all your costume needs from here on out.” Next, he held up a Just Cause Visa card. “This is for emergencies only. No shopping sprees. You swipe it anywhere, you gotta fill out an expense report.” Finally, he showed her the gear and equipment requisition form and said, “I’ll approve damn near anything. How the hell do I know what you really need?”

  “I need a Top Fuel dragster. You know, for training.” The whirlwind of being accepted onto Just Cause, even as an intern, had made Sally feel cocky and special. Every hero who had ever interned with the team wound up on the roster. Many of them filled out the ranks of the Just Cause Second Team, which had its headquarters in Virginia, but a few, like Mastiff and Forcestar, had been selected onto the main team. Sally hoped for that to be her eventual assignment.

  “Yeah, right.” He escorted her from his office down a hallway and up a flight of stairs to the dormitory. “The whole team’s on this floor. Promotes unity or something. All I know is that it’s a lot like my college dorm, only louder and with more muscle tone.” He chuckled. “Everybody gets a suite. Bedroom, closet, living area, full bath, and kitchenette. Most of ‘em eat in the cafeteria, probably because they’re too busy being superheroes to cook a decent meal.” Listening to Harris was like being assaulted by a verbal machine gun, thought Sally. “You get regular laundry service and cleaning, just like in a hotel. Here we are, then.”

  He stopped at a door that had Mustang Sally stenciled on it. He motioned to her to use her badge. She pulled it out and slid it through the reader. The door unlocked and she swung it open. The suite seemed cavernous to her after her shared dorm room at the Academy. It was like an entire apartment. Her luggage sat in the middle of the living area, waiting to be unpacked. The room had decent carpet, a soft couch, a stocked entertainment center, and a computer desk. Off to one side she could see the kitchenette with a small refrigerator, microwave, coffee pot, and hot plate. A small table with two chairs was tucked against the wall. On the other side, she discovered the bedroom with a queen-size bed, a walk-in closet, and a nice bathroom. The entire suite had a faint mulberry scent, as if the housekeepers had sprayed the carpeting with it.

  “Whaddya
think?” Harris asked her after she’d had a few moments to check out the place.

  “It’s nice,” she said. “It’s huge. All this just for me?”

  “Yeah. Just you. You need anything, hit star-eleven on the phone. I’m out. I got a thing to do.” He headed down the hall, punching keys on his phone.

  Sally left her luggage for the moment and kicked her shoes off. She scrunched her toes through the deep pile of the carpet, which felt comfortable and soft enough to sleep upon. She moved into the bedroom and lifted the shade so she could look out across the grounds.

  The Just Cause compound consisted of four main buildings. Besides the dormitory, there was the training center, the Command Center, and the hangar/motor pool. The countryside around the facility was mostly dry grassland with an occasional stunted tree. Although she couldn’t see it from this side of the building, she knew the Hero Academy was less than a mile away.

  It all seemed very alien to her. Even though she’d spent the past three years at the Academy, and become very familiar with the surrounding area, she felt like it might as well have been in a different state; or on a different planet. She sat on the edge of the couch, and wondered what to do next. What was an intern even supposed to do?

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Sally went to the door, opened it, and looked up… up… up into his face and all of a sudden she was fifteen again and crushing on Jason Tibbets. He was as tall as Juice with a muscular, athletic build. His straight, straw-colored hair fell from the top of his head to float around his jaw line and cover his ears. Blond stubble dotted his chin and his blue eyes sparkled with amusement. His t-shirt read Property of Just Cause—XXXL and his sweatpants were so cavernous that Sally could have fit her entire body into one leg.

  “Hi, you must be Salena. I’m Jason. Juice asked me to give you the tour since I’m off-duty today.” He had a mild Southern drawl that Sally could tell would put just about anybody at ease. No wonder Juice had detailed him to the task of orienting her. Surely it wasn’t just because he was gorgeous.