Just Cause: Revised & Expanded Edition (2 page)

Bullet stepped forward. He was as large and imposing in his civvies as in his black-and-red costume. His craggy, scarred face split into a wide grin as he held out an envelope to Sally. “Happy birthday,” he said in his cracking, rumbling voice. A piece of rebar had pierced his throat once, and even though he had healed from the injury within minutes, it had left his voice a ruin. “I hope you like the cake.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious. I can’t wait to taste it.” Sally took the envelope and glanced around at the others. Statues might as well have surrounded her for all the expressions displayed by the Lucky Seven. Even Carousel, the artificial being who delighted in expressing human emotions, made her face an impassive wall.

“Go on,” said Juliet. “Open it.” She was the only one of the Lucky Seven who didn’t use a superhero name. She had wanted to call herself
Jedi
because of her psionic powers, but Lucasfilm wouldn’t permit it, so she just worked without any special name. Her dreadlocks were held back by a tie-dyed scarf with a batik pattern on it and her teeth sparkled like mints in the chocolatey glow of her face.

Sally slid a finger underneath the envelope flap and withdrew two folded pieces of paper.

“Read them out loud.” Trix shook his ‘80s rock-star hair. Like Stratocaster, he would have been far more comfortable in a ripped t-shirt and jeans with a studded belt, but he’d found a dark blue turtleneck and some chinos somewhere in the very bottom of his wardrobe.

“
To Juice, Field Commander and Administrator of Just Cause,
” read Sally. “
We, the undersigned, are pleased to recommend Salena Thompson, also known as Mustang Sally, for an internship with Just—
” She stopped as she felt her throat tighten up. She tried again.
“Internship with Ju—
”

Her vision had grown far too blurry with tears to read more.

“There’s more,” said Spark. “Since we’d gone to all the trouble of writing this referral for you, we thought we might save you some time and effort and sent in the application on your behalf. The other page is—”

“Shush, let her read it herself.” Juliet placed her hand on Spark’s shoulder.

Sally flipped over to the other sheet of paper. She saw the official Just Cause stationery and the brief letter written on it. Certain words jumped out at her:
interview… Just Cause Headquarters… Intern
.

“Th-thank you.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s the b-best gift ever.”

All her life, Sally had wanted to be a superhero in Just Cause, like her mother and grandmother had been. Now she would have that chance.

Tremor brushed her crimson curls away from her face and smiled at her with the fashion-model looks that had graced a hundred different magazine covers. “Sally…” The conference room alert spotlights illuminated and a sudden klaxon wailed from the speaker system throughout Lucky Seven Headquarters. Echoes chased up and down the halls of the building.

The heroes looked at each other in disbelief.

“It’s five days before Christmas. What the hell could possibly need our attention?” said Stratocaster. “Don’t supervillains have last-minute shopping to do?”

“Maybe one of them is working a five-finger discount,” said Trix.

Spark touched a button on the intercom that connected him to the team’s dedicated monitoring center, modeled after the much larger and more comprehensive one used by Just Cause. “Spark here. What’s going on?”

“
I’ve got the police commissioner holding for you, Boss,
” reported a voice from the center.

“Patch him through.”

“
Spark, we’ve got a giant robot thing breaking up the Science and Technology Expo at McCormick Place. I have officers down and possible civilian casualties!
”

“Understood, Commissioner. We’re on our way.” Spark turned to Sally and the rest of the Lucky Seven. “Let’s move, people.”

They hurried to the locker rooms to change. Sally, with her super-speed, was in and back out again in costume well before any of the others. She tapped her yellow boots on the floor with a rapid-fire patter, impatient for the rest of the Lucky Seven to finish.

The rest of the team rejoined her within minutes. They’d transformed themselves from civilian attire to their colorful costumes.

“Trix, can you fly today?” Spark checked the clips which held his electro-whip.

“Not sure, man. Let me give it a try.” Sally and the rest of the Lucky Seven members tensed as Trix rose into the air. His random powers came and went with alarming frequency. Sometimes he could fly, other times he couldn’t. More than once he’d tried to use an ability only to get something unexpected, like an explosive fireball or a tornado from a clear blue sky. He gave them a thumbs-up.

Spark nodded. “Good. Sally, Carousel, you’re with me. Bullet, you’re on point. Trix, Tremor, flank us. Strat—”

A whine of mystical feedback echoed through the conference room as Stratocaster turned the knobs on his guitar up to the proverbial eleven.

“Bring Juliet along and we’ll meet you there.”

Juliet rolled her eyes and dug her fingers into her ears. Stratocaster fingered the fretboard and with a long-practiced move, leaped into the air, swung his pick hand around in a windmill circle, and slashed the pick across the strings. He landed with his legs spread apart, pointed the neck of the guitar toward the ceiling, and stuck his other hand in the air in a pose straight out of a rock video. A wallop of solid sound smashed through the conference room. Bright energy sparks flowed from the guitar strings in every color of the spectrum. They coalesced into a violet glow that enveloped him and Juliet and they disappeared to leave only a reverberating echo of the power chord in their wake.

Sally’s ears rang like church bells tolled in her head. She winced and hoped the damage wasn’t permanent.

“Move out, Lucky Seven,” said Spark.

Sally thrilled to those words. In the six months since she’d joined up with the Seven, this was only the second time they’d been called out on an emergency. The first time was to assist with rescue and recovery efforts after Hurricane Isabel smashed into the East Coast.

She’d spent years training for this, her first potential parahuman combat. Three years of her life had been spent under the tutelage of the Academy combat instructor. Before that, her mother and grandmother had coached her on the unique methods a speedster could use against opponents like disarming their weapons before they could be used, wrapping them in yards of tape or rope in mere seconds, and pummeling them with fists like machine gun bullets.

Spark’s motorcycle screamed out of the garage, weaving in and out of holiday traffic. Sally and Carousel kept pace with him, one clad in scarlet and the other in naught but nearly-frictionless metallic skin. A younger Sally might have charged ahead—she was fast enough to cover the distance to McCormick in less than a minute—but years of training had tempered some of her natural impetuousness. She would stay with her team and follow the orders of her commander.

Her mother had warned her about going solo in a combat mission.
It’s easy to run ahead of everyone else
, she’d said,
to think that just because you’re faster, you’re better. Use your speed and accelerated perceptions to think before you act. You have the time. Use it wisely.
 

Sally reminded herself of the basic combat tenets taught at the Hero Academy, all of which boiled down to:
protect the innocent, support your teammates, and come home alive
.

Good advice, she thought. She intended to follow it to the letter.

Chapter Two

“When soldiers have been baptized in the fire of a battle-field, they have all one rank in my eyes.”

-Napoleon Bonaparte

December, 2003

Chicago, Illinois

Traffic clogged the roads for miles around the Convention Center as people tried to get away and emergency vehicles tried to get through. Sally and Carousel scouted ahead at high speed to find the best route for Spark to steer his motorcycle. Finally, they reached an impasse as the throng of evacuated conventioneers and onlookers became too thick to avoid.

Spark brought his cycle to a halt, dismounted with an acrobatic leap, and uncoiled his whip. He swung it up into the air and snared the flying Bullet, who wrapped one of his huge hands around the tip. Spark’s momentum continued unchecked as Bullet lifted him up and over the crowd. Sally and Carousel picked their way through the thick crowd beneath the flyers.

They reached the police line in seconds, where officers struggled to keep curious people back from the buildings and helped others maintain an orderly exit. The members of the Chicago Police Department looked relieved as the Lucky Seven heroes arrived on scene.

“Fill us in, Lieutenant,” said Spark to a short, stocky woman who wore a helmet and armored vest.

“It’s a giant robot thing,” said the officer. “It entered the main exhibition hall and began firing off tear gas canisters. Cleared the place out pretty fast.”

Sally looked around and noticed many people in the crowd were coughing, with red faces and streaming eyes. Her breath mask would give her some protection from gas but it didn’t have a self-contained air supply, so she’d get a dose of whatever it was too.

“Do you know what it’s after?”

“What it’s after? Not at the moment. Security converged on it but it’s carrying some pretty heavy weaponry and they couldn’t get close to it.” The lieutenant pushed her helmet back and wiped sweat from her brow even in the freezing temperature. “We’ve got four officers unaccounted for, and there may be civilians stranded inside. Goddamn, but I’m glad you’re here.”

A whine of feedback and a thrum of distortion filled the air as Stratocaster and Juliet materialized out of the sound and appeared right next to Sally.

“Not late, are we?” Stratocaster flashed a tight grin at Spark.

“What, did you stop for a latte and biscotti?” Spark snorted in derision.

Stratocaster patted his vest pocket. “I saved you a couple. You want one with almonds or white chocolate?”

Spark didn’t bother to reply and instead turned back to the lieutenant. “Has anyone possibly got a picture of this thing?”

She nodded and pulled out her cell phone. “One of the missing officers was able to send this from his phone before we lost contact.” She held it up. The Lucky Seven members all crowded around to get a look. Sally strained to see past Bullet’s bulk, and just caught a glimpse.

The blurry image showed an angular humanoid figure in dark blue and gleaming chrome, with four arms and two legs and a large bulky object on one shoulder. It was caught in the act of firing some kind of weapon from one of its intermediate limbs. A gout of flame jetted out and washed out part of the image from overexposure.

Sally drew in a sharp breath. She knew this figure; he had haunted her dreams since she’d been old enough to understand what had happened to her father and who was responsible for his death.

Destroyer
.

Destroyer had taken away half her family before she was even born, and she hated the coward inside his powered armor because of it.

Destroyer
.

She whispered the name aloud and felt her perceptions accelerate out of fear. When she ran and moved at super speeds, her perceptions and thought processes accelerated as well, allowing her mind to keep up with her body. It could be a hindrance in a non-combat situation though, as everything seemed to slow down around her. She forced herself to calm down so she could still interact with the others.

 Spark confirmed her identification. “That’s got to be Destroyer. High-tech battlesuit and weapons, clearing out a science and technology expo. Just his style.”

“But why is he still here?” asked Tremor. “I’d think smash-and-grab would be more his style. Why hang around to risk facing us?”

“Because he never has,” said Juliet. “He longs to test himself against anyone and everyone. What better opportunity to face us than by attacking this facility?”

“It has to be more than that,” said Spark. “He could have drawn us out anywhere, anytime. There must be something here he wants. Let’s make sure he doesn’t get it.”

Sally trembled at high speed. She was terrified of Destroyer. He killed without compunction, without mercy. He’d killed her father.

Now he was here, ready to kill her and her new friends.

“Let’s go,” said Spark. “Stay alert, don’t bunch up. Bullet, Tremor, Trix, flank him and keep him from escaping. Carousel, Sally, try to disarm him. Juliet, if you can shut him down telepathically, do it. Strat—”

Stratocaster slid his fingers down the strings of his guitar as sparks of energy danced away into dimensions unknown; he knew his role.

“
Lucky Seven, let’s roll!
” Many of the onlookers took up the battle cry, made famous after fifteen years.

The long lobby of McCormick Place was eerie and dark, only lit by emergency lighting. Sulfurous tendrils of bitter gas twisted around their feet as they entered. Sally adjusted her breath mask a little better to cut out the worst of the acrid stink.

Spark uncoiled his whip and held it in both hands. At a moment’s notice, he could flick it out and send an electrical charge through the bare wire braided into the leather. Sally didn’t think it would do much damage against a heavily-armored villain like Destroyer, but Spark carried himself with such confidence that it made her feel a little braver.

Stratocaster’s fingers still moved across the strings and fretboard of his guitar, but he’d muted the volume and only a slight purplish glow emanated from it. The others advanced with careful purpose, ready to let their powers fly.

The silver-skinned Carousel whispered to Sally, “I’m scared.”

“Me too.” Sally felt the muscles all through her torso tighten and clench at the approach of combat.

Two of the large doors leading to the exhibition hall had been wrenched off their hinges and the frame twisted into a semblance of some bizarre modern art sculpture. Beyond, Sally could see the flickering firelight of burning displays and carpeting.