Just Cause: Revised & Expanded Edition (14 page)

The man swung his empty hand.

Jason chuckled and bent the rebar into a loop. “You’re outclassed here, fellas. Why don’t you call it a night?”

The three men looked at each other in a panic, and ran. Jason tossed the rebar after them, not to hit any of them but to let them know he could have. It clattered in the street behind their heels. The men disappeared with impressive speed.

“Would you mind getting that before somebody blows a tire driving over it?”

Sally nodded and zipped out to the street and back, the rebar hoop in her hand. She was impressed with the casual demeanor he’d used and how he’d defused the situation without hurting anyone. Of course, she’d helped too. “Should we call the police?” she asked.

“To report an attempted mugging of two Just Cause members?” Jason snorted. “Juice’d love that. Those guys won’t stop running until they get home. Maybe they won’t be back for awhile. Let’s just call it our good deed for the day.”

“Definitely.”

“Now how about that pie?”

“Definitely,” she repeated, and took his hand firmly to let him know she didn’t mind him holding it.

Chapter Eleven

There are three things to remember when parahumans engage in combat. I refer to them as AKA, which is a familiar acronym for anyone with a secret identity. Over the rest of this book, we will address these three areas.

One: Analyze your opponents. Be aware of powers catalogued, implied, and possible.

Two: Know your own powers. What are your limits? What are your capabilities?

Three: No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy. Adapt to changing circumstances, because nothing is ever ‘by the book’.

-From
On Parahuman Combat
by Sunstorm, 2000

January, 2004

Denver, Colorado

Sally squinted at her alarm clock as it chirped at her. It couldn’t be seven o’clock already, could it? She and Jason stayed out late the night before; way too late for Saturday morning training. The date had been a lot of fun, though. After their minor skirmish with the would-be muggers, they had some delicious pie at Lazzarino’s. Then, they’d both been so wired they decided to go see a late movie. The previews had started at midnight and the credits rolled after two. It was three by the time they got back onto base.

Jason had been a perfect gentleman the entire night. It was really the first time she’d ever gone on a date, and it felt like something out of a storybook. She’d had such a grand time that she let him kiss her goodnight. Still drowsy, she rolled over and kicked off the blankets—even though headquarters was climate-controlled, it was cold outside and she couldn’t sleep without being buried in her covers. She smiled as she remembered Jason’s kiss, the tickle of his stubble on her nose, the musky scent of his shampoo and sweat.

He had tasted like peach pie.

By seven-fifteen, she was in the cafeteria and couldn’t decide whether she wanted the strawberry-banana smoothie or the cherry-lime. Since it would be a full day of combat simulation, Sally wasn’t about to eat anything substantial. She learned long ago that light, frequent meals were best for her in situations where she made extensive use of her powers. She selected the cherry-lime and added a small bowl of granola and a slice of cantaloupe with a yawn.

It seemed like she had been nothing but exhausted since beginning her internship. She wondered if it was part of the training. On the other hand, the night before had been her own fault. Well, mostly hers. She smiled to herself because the rest of it had been Jason’s.

Jack sauntered into the cafeteria and made a beeline for the coffee bar. In a minute, Sondra joined him. They strolled over to sit with Sally.

“Morning, sugar,” said Jack.

“God, Sally, you look like you have two black eyes,” Sondra said. “What time did you get in?”

Sally tried not to think of how little sleep she’d really gotten. She yawned. “It was like three.”

“Ah, the folly of youth.” Jack sipped a drink that wafted a pleasant cinnamon-vanilla scent across the table. “I remember staying out all night once or twice.”

“Jack, you’re away more than you’re here anymore.” Sondra laughed. “Honestly, you’ve never grown up. So… Did Jason kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Jack grumbled something under his breath and dug a ten-dollar bill from a pocket. He held it up between two fingers like a cigarette. Sondra snapped it away from him and tucked it into her vest.

“I’d be angry if I wasn’t so tired,” said Sally. “Is that all you guys do? Make bets about me and my love life?”

“Before you, it was Jay,” said Jack. “After you, it’ll be someone else. It’s just our thing.”

“Why don’t you get a cup of coffee?” Sondra pointed out. “It’s free and chock full of caffeine.”

“Why does everybody keep pushing coffee on me here? Is it part of the super-secret Just Cause clubhouse rules that you have to drink the stuff?” Sally glared at them over her granola.

“Well…” said Jack. “Most times we don’t get enough sleep. It kind of comes with the territory.”

Sondra set down her cup. “You’re exhausted, dear, and in no shape to train today. If it wasn’t your first time, I’d say you should try to take a sick day instead. Let me get you a small cup—it’ll get you through the morning, at any rate.”

“Please, Sondra, you’ll kill her with that mud you drink. Come on, kiddo—I’ll introduce you to the joy of cinnamon hazelnut.” Jack stood up and escorted Sally to the coffee bar.

“I stay away from caffeine, Jack. It messes up my metabolism.” Sally felt her protests grow flimsy and weak against his charm and male-model good looks.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to start you out with a triple espresso or anything. Sondra was absolutely right—you’re in no shape to train today. Jason won’t be either, but you’re going to be the one on the hot seat today because it’s your first time. We just want you to survive it… metaphorically speaking.” He handed her a cup he’d mixed up. He’d topped it with a dollop of whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon and nutmeg.

She took it from him and wrapped her fingers around the warm ceramic mug. “Thanks, Jack. It does smell good.”

He winked. “Trust me.”

She took a sip. It tasted like impossibly warm ice cream. “Yum.”

He laughed, and then looked past her. “Oh, oh, oh… better clear the way. Here comes someone else who needs his extra-large ration of go-juice.”

Jason staggered up to the coffee bar. His hair was in disarray and longer-than-usual stubble dotted his chin and cheeks. “Morn’n.” He selected a decanter that was half full and dumped sugar and cream directly into it.

“Watch out, that’s Sondra’s blend,” said Jack.

“Doan care.” Jason stirred the sludge with a long-handled spoon. He raised the pot to his lips and drained it.

“Urgh. Tar,” he said after lowering the pot. Sally thought it was cute.

They kidded around for a few more minutes before all headed for the Bunker. Sondra guided Sally to the women’s locker room and showed her how to put on the training suit. Training suits resembled the costumes that the team-members wore, but were loaded with kinetic and energy sensors and made out of high-tech nylon armor composite.

“A helmet?” Sally looked askance at the headgear that looked more suitable for a grade-Z science fiction movie.

Sondra shrugged as she strapped on her own helmet. “Head shots are efficient, whether you’re going for a knockout or… something else. Jason or Juice takes a swipe at you, you’ll be glad for the helmet. It’ll still ring your bell like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Jason better not,” Sally said. “I kissed him.” Nevertheless, she put it on. They walked out onto the training floor as she adjusted the straps so it wouldn’t slip down over her face. The rest of the team assembled in the middle of the facsimile city street. All wore training suits and helmets.

“Good morning,” said Juice as the two women walked up to the group. “I trust everyone is well-rested?” There were good-natured grumblings from the rest of the team and face-splitting yawns from Jason and Sally. “Hey, Jase, you look like shit.” Juice winked at him.

“Thanks, boss. I wasn’t sure until you said,” said Jason with another yawn.

“We’re going to break in Sally today and start getting her up to speed. We’ll start with a Round Robin drill, followed by a Three-Minute. Analysis will follow both drills, and then we’ll break for lunch. We’ll run a couple of Tacticals this afternoon and wrap up with more Analysis. Any questions?” Juice winced as he realized he’d handed Jack a straight line.

Jack raised his hand. “
Yeah, I got a question. How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit?
”

“Shut up, Jack,” said Juice.

“Aliens,” said Sally. “Bill Paxton, wasn’t it?”

“Good catch.” Jack grinned.

“Does anyone have any legitimate questions?” Juice asked.

Sally raised her hand. “Can you define a Round Robin and a Three-Minute drill?”

“Of course. My apologies, Sally. We’ve been without anyone new for so long that I forgot you aren’t familiar with the terminology.” Juice smiled. “A Round Robin is where you try to take down everyone on the team in turn, and everyone has a turn as the Robin. A Three-Minute drill is blatantly unfair. You just have to survive three minutes of everyone on the team trying to take you down together in a coordinated manner. The Tacticals are specific goal-oriented scenarios. Analysis is when we look at what we all did, what we did right, and what needs improvement. You want to go first?”

Sally nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good,” said Juice. “Everyone fan out. Take us on however you want in whatever order. The rules are no killing shots. The suits will extrapolate damage and the computer will report on specific injuries, but try not to actually hurt anyone. Take as long as you need. Ready?” The others split up and headed down the street and into the air.

Sally flexed her fingers and sped up her perceptions to maximum. Sounds dropped into the bass register and Juice seemed to move in slow motion as he pointed at her. “Bbbbb-eeeee-ggggg-iiiii-nnnnn.”

Sally sped to the edge of the Bunker. She’d already worked out her strategy: go simplest to hardest. She’d aced all her combat courses at the Hero Academy, but then she had sixty years of speedster experience to draw upon between her mother and grandmother.

Jack would be the easiest. A quick circuit of the Bunker found him crouched in an alley, his paint-pellet rifle held at the ready. She disarmed him in a blur and had a pair of handcuffs on him immediately thereafter. Since his wide range of skills likely included lockpicking, she knocked him down and hog-tied him. Jack barely had time to swear before he was stuck on his belly with his wrists tied to his ankles. She took a moment to giggle at his helplessness before she checked her watch: eight seconds since the beginning of the exercise. That would serve Jack right for making bets on her, she thought as she ran on.

She moved on to find Glimmer. He should also be fairly easy to deal with, in spite of his psionic abilities. His brain didn’t work any faster than a normal human’s, so once again her speed would give her an advantage. She knew she had to be quick and careful. His precog could have warned of her approach and let him avoid her despite her speed. With his telepathy, he could take control of her mind and force her to stop or induce her to sleep. With his psychokinesis, he could create a wall of tangible mental force off which she would bounce like a bug hitting a windshield. Both her mother and grandmother had warned her about the dangers of psionic opponents.
A low-power psi is potentially much more dangerous than any top-tier brick or blaster
, her mom had said.
Never assume otherwise
.

Glimmer was already spinning around to face her as she rounded a corner and approached him. She knew many of his psionic abilities required both eye contact and concentration, and those were easy to disrupt. She grabbed an aluminum trashcan facsimile, upended it over his head, and pulled it down over his shoulders and upper torso. She then proceeded to beat upon it for several seconds with a piece of broom handle. He reeled from the sudden noise and loss of vision.

“
Unconscious
,” said a voice in her ear as the combat control computer registered a potential knockout blow on Glimmer. The same voice echoed hollowly inside the can and Glimmer stopped struggling.

“Geez,” she heard him mumble. Seventeen seconds.

Her instinct was to lift the can and ask if he was all right, but she knew that she needed to finish the exercise first. The two easy marks were down, which left her with the bricks—Jason and Juice—and the fliers: Doublecharge, Sondra, and Forcestar. None of them would be easy opponents, but she would nevertheless try to give a good account of herself. She decided to save the bricks for last, as they were traditionally the toughest opponents.

Fliers were difficult to fight when one couldn’t enter their element. Most parahumans who flew could think in three dimensions when most people only thought in two. This gave them a strong tactical advantage in combat situations. Sally had spent a lot of time working on using her speed powers effectively against opponents who could stay out of her reach. She saw a sporting goods store and ducked inside it. One of the beneficial parts of training in the Bunker was that the technicians prided themselves on making the settings as real as possible, all the way down to the merchandise on the shelves of stores. Sally grabbed a pair of tennis ball canisters, and noted that she could have as easily taken golf balls, baseballs, or darts. Armed with fuzzy green missiles, she found her way to the top of a building.

Doublecharge circled overhead and cut loose with a crackling burst of electricity as soon as she saw Sally step onto the roof. Sally dodged to one side. Another blast of lightning scored the roof where she’d been a moment before. Some blasters’ powers took time to travel intervening distances, but Doublecharge’s moved at the speed of light, and were only limited by her aim. If Sally kept moving, she’d be a tougher target to hit.