Just Cause: Revised & Expanded Edition (6 page)

Dinner tonight in Main Conference Room. Full Dress. 1900 hrs. Juice.

“What’s that mean?” Sally asked as Jason held open the cafeteria door for her.

“He’s probably going to introduce you to everyone.
Full Dress
means in costume. We don’t normally dress out here in headquarters unless there’s a tour coming through or something.” Sally caught Jason’s eyes wandering up and down her slight figure.

His attention made her feel odd, like she understood at last what people meant by
butterflies in one’s stomach
. She wished he wouldn’t stare, but she also wished she had more of a figure to show off to him. If anyone in the past had ever looked at her that way, she’d never noticed. She was too busy studying and training at the Academy to pay much attention to the socializing that went on between the students. She knew she wasn’t any good at it, which felt every bit as humiliating in its own way as it had been to lose Destroyer. She felt her ears burn. “How about that hot chocolate?”

Chapter Five

“A costume is more than just eye candy. It’s a statement, an image, a brand. A costume can inspire self-confidence or fear in an opponent. Why wear them at all when they make you into a target? You might as well ask a Hollywood starlet why she wears expensive fashions and designer jewelry. It’s because parahumans crave the attention. It’s because we are actors as much as anyone you see in a movie. The only difference is that our roles are in real life and we don’t have stunt doubles.”

-Gloria Echevarria aka Sundancer,
Playboy
, February, 1976

January, 2004

Denver, Colorado

The conference room was a masterpiece of contemporary architecture and interior design. Expansive black reflective surfaces redirected the cool lighting. The table was rich polished hardwood with varnish so dark it nearly appeared black as well, but contained unimaginable depths. Recessed computer terminals sat before every overstuffed, leather-upholstered chair. Juice had kicked off the meal by formally introducing Sally to the rest of the team, speaking in his best courtroom voice while she stood beside him and tried hard not to blush or fidget or do anything that made her look amateurish. At last, relieved, she got to return to her seat to enjoy her dinner. They’d been offered choices that sounded like something from a fancy restaurant, and Sally had picked pork loin stuffed with apricots, parsley potatoes, and cranberry-walnut salad. “God, this is amazing,” she said between bites.

“Our house chef… Everyone says he’s a low-grade precognitive,” Jason said to Sally. He was in his brown and gray Mastiff outfit. It was skintight, and showed off every muscle contour, which Sally found distracting. He had his mask pulled down around his neck so as not to hinder his food intake and his gloves lay folded neatly next to his plate.

“What does that mean?”

“He knows exactly what you want to eat even before you do.” Jason smiled. “All I know, though, is that I’ve never been disappointed.”

Sally grinned. “I can’t imagine you turning down food.” During the meal, he’d put away enough food for three normal people, and ate with incredible enthusiasm and gusto.

“Yeah, watch out for Jason,” said Jack Raymond from across the table. “Get too close and you’re liable to lose an arm.” Known as Crackerjack, he was the public face of Just Cause and acted as the team’s press agent and publicist. Sally remembered his Saturday Night Live hosting gig back in 1999, and people still aped his tagline from the skit spoofing Just Cause—“
Whoa… I didn’t expect
that
to happen!
” His unique power was total invulnerability. No known weapon or force could injure him. He specialized in espionage and dirty tricks. He eschewed a traditional superhero costume for a SWAT outfit instead. Jack was dangerously handsome, with his curly hair, just starting to go gray around the temples, and devilish good looks. A couple of days’ stubble only added to his roguish appearance. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

“My mom can’t cook to save her life,” said Sally. “And before that was dorm food at the Academy. I’d be happy with anything edible.”

 “The food here is more than just edible,” said Sondra—Desert Eagle. She sat near Jack but far enough apart from the others so as not to inconvenience anyone with her wings. Normally, she wore thigh holsters loaded with custom-manufactured large-caliber automatic pistols and bandoleers of clips, but she had come to dinner unarmed. “You’ll have to step up your workout routine just to keep from filling out your costume in the wrong places.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Eric, resplendent in his bright blue Forcestar costume. He created and controlled force fields that were virtually unbreakable. He could wrap one around himself to fly, or he could use them as great clubs, wedges, and walls. “The trials and tribulations of the Spandex set.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that,” said Jay Road, known as Glimmer, the psionicist. He had no set costume and generally wore jeans and a denim jacket in public. Authorities had found him wandering along a country road in Oklahoma after a series of tremendous thunderstorms and tornadoes several years ago. He couldn’t remember anything about his past—not even his name—but had strong psionic abilities from telepathy to levitation to psionic healing. He could even see occasional glimpses of the future, although the power was uncontrolled and visions came to him without warning or planning. Doctors, psychologists, and other psis had examined him, but ultimately all they determined was a portion of his mind was simply
gone
. He had taken the name Jay Road, after the place he had been found.

Juice sat at the head of the table in his utilitarian gray costume with the triangular yellow high voltage warning graphic centered on his chest. He leaned back from the table and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “Since we’re all in the same place at the same time, I think we’ll have a short staff meeting.”

Muted groans sounded around the table, the loudest from Crackerjack.

“Hush, you,” said Doublecharge, second-in-command of the team. Stacey Martin carried an aura of quiet competence. She remained content to let Juice lead conversation during the meal, except when she offered up a thoughtful and well-constructed opinion or comment. Her black and white costume was trimmed with stylized yellow lightning bolts, a graphical representation of her ability to project electricity.

Juice glared at them. “Listen, we’ve got a new intern and I’d like to show her how we ought to operate. I promise to keep things short. After this latest masterpiece from Juan, I’m sure we’d all like to take some time to sleep it off. We’ll go around the table. When it gets back to me, we’re done, unless something comes up.”

“Nobody bring anything up,” Crackerjack stage-whispered.

“As far as old business goes,” said Juice, “a date has been set for Anchor’s trial.” Sally didn’t recognize the name, but knew as an attorney specializing in parahuman case law, Juice was often involved in courtroom proceedings.

“How does it look for her?” Sondra asked.

“I’d be lying if I said I was sure she’d walk free on a self-defense plea. It’s going to be a tough fight, given her background, which I’m sure the prosecution will make sure is brought forth in all its vivid glory.” Juice took a sip of coffee. “For new business, I’m altering the duty schedules to include Sally. Expect the changes posted by the end of this week. We’ll also have team training next Saturday from eight to five.” Crackerjack raised his hand as if to ask a question. “No.” Juice cut him off. “Everyone needs to be there, no exceptions. Whatever it is, you can reschedule it.”

Jack sighed with exasperation, then grinned and winked at Sally.

“Stacey, anything to add?”

Doublecharge toyed with a fork and made sparks dance between the tines. “There was a confirmed sighting of Harlan Washington this morning in Guatemala.”

Sally gasped. Harlan Washington was the man inside the Destroyer battlesuit.

“Guatemala?” Forcestar looked baffled. “Strange place for a high-tech guy like him. Especially since he was in Chicago just a month ago. We sure it was him?”

“The report came from the CIA, so it’s probably credible. We’re moving a recon satellite into position to try and learn more. I’m working to obtain permission from Homeland Security for us to go in if needed.”

“Just Cause has a satellite?” Sally asked, but then wished she hadn’t; she sounded like such a rube.

“Actually we have four, but it’s not public knowledge,” Doublecharge said. “I’ll update you all as I get more information. I don’t have any other business.”

Juice nodded. “Jason?”

Jason shook his head. “Nothing.” He smiled at Sally.

“Oh, uh, I don’t have anything. Except I’d like to know what else you all know about Destroyer,” said Sally.

“Destroyer’s been a thorn in the side of Just Cause and other hero organizations for years. We’ve got an extensive file on him, in fact,” said Stacey.

Sally nodded. She knew she had to get into that file to see what information Just Cause possessed about the man who had killed her father.

“Glimmer?” asked Juice.

“I’d actually like to know a little more about our newest member,” said the psi with a nod toward her. “I don’t know anything about you or your background except that you come here highly recommended by the Academy staff and the Lucky Seven.”

Sally squirmed in her seat. “There’s not much to tell. I’m a third-generation speedster. Actually, I’m the first known third-generation parahuman. Both my parents and at least my mother’s parents were parahumans as well. My grandpa and grandma were Dr. Danger and Colt in American Justice back in the ‘40s and ‘50s, and then my grandfather helped found Just Cause after Congress blacklisted American Justice. My mom was in Just Cause from ’70 to ’85 as Pony Girl. My dad was too, although he wasn’t a speedster. He had enhanced hearing abilities. He was the team administrator up until… until Destroyer killed him at Tornado’s funeral.”

Sally paused in her tale. She needed a moment to catch up with herself. Talking about her father was always difficult when she’d never had the chance to know the man. Sondra reached out and patted her hand, and it comforted her more than she would have expected. It gave her strength to continue. “Anyway, my mom raised me and trained me until I was old enough to go to the Academy. I graduated last June and then spent half a year training with the Lucky Seven and now I’m here.”

“And you all faced Destroyer just last month?” asked Doublecharge.

“Yeah. He broke into a science convention and stole some kind of high-tech energy monitoring system thing,” said Sally. “And then he disappeared. Until now, that is.”

“Interesting.” Doublecharge looked troubled.

“Sondra, what have you got?” Juice nodded toward the winged woman.

“There were three new applicants to the Hero Academy this week; a brick and two blasters. All are underage but were accepted provisionally when they hit sixteen. No surprises—we knew about all three already.” Sondra ticked off each point on her long brown fingers. “Other than that it was the usual batch of cranks, including that one Exhibitionist guy for the, what, fifth time?”

Laughter blossomed around the table. “You mean the Visible Man?” Jack asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I thought he was calling himself The Streak.” Forcestar snickered.

“Before that it was Naked Guy,” said Doublecharge with a rare smile.

Glimmer turned to Sally. “This guy gets his jollies by applying for Just Cause membership, saying he’s bulletproof, but only when he’s naked.”

“Is he?”

Fresh peals of laughter exploded. “No idea. Nobody’s let him get any further than his skivvies. He shows up like clockwork every six months with a new nickname and—”

Glimmer’s coffee cup slipped from his fingers to shatter against the edge of the table. He flung himself backward. Sally scooted around the table in a blur of motion before anyone else could react and caught him just before his head slammed into the floor.

“Holy shit!” Jack flung himself across the table as Glimmer convulsed. “Get him onto his side!”

Sally ducked Glimmer’s thrashing arms and rolled him over. “Shouldn’t I hold him or something?” She chewed on her lip in fear. Glimmer’s eyes had rolled back into his head and foamy spittle leaked from his mouth as he quivered and shook.

“No, no. He’s precogging. Never seen him this bad before,” said Jack. “We have to let it run its course. He’ll come out of it in a minute or two.”

In a few hot and sweaty minutes, Glimmer’s spasms subsided and his eyes cleared. He relaxed his tightly clenched muscles and started shaking, but from exhaustion instead of a seizure. Jack soaked a napkin with ice water and brushed it tenderly across the smaller man’s face. The change in Jack’s personality from sardonic and wry to solicitous and worried was amazing. Sally realized the gentle compassion was closer to his true personality than the sharp, witty attitude he affected most of the time.

Glimmer struggled to sit up. Jack and Sally helped to prop him up against the wall of the conference room. Forcestar pressed a cup of sweetened hot tea into Glimmer’s hands. He took a grateful sip.

“That one looked really bad, Jay,” said Juice. “Want to talk about it?”

Glimmer took a shaky breath. “Millions died… by fire. Never saw anything like it.”

“You mean like a nuclear explosion?” Doublecharge’s voice was sharp.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. This was worse, somehow. Bigger. Like cracking a hole in the planet.”

“Is he…” Sally felt her nerves sing like an over-tightened cable. “Is he… accurate in his predictions?”

“Sometimes,” said Juice. “He sees the most likely outcome of a future event, but the most likely is not always what occurs. Often the very knowledge of something allows us to circumvent or prevent it outright. Sondra?”

The others made room for the winged woman as she knelt down and checked Glimmer’s vital signs with the practiced ease of a paramedic. She dug in a pouch strapped to one of her legs and withdrew an inhaler, which she metered and administered to him.