With Justice For All - part 1: Disorder in the Court!
by Viking

Patriot City’s courthouse was flush with the air of excitement. The courtroom itself, while normally stately and elegant, was now crammed to the limits of its capacity with observers that buzzed with barely-restrained curiosity and anticipation. None could say whether the greater cause for this heightened state of emotion was due to its celebrity observers, or the accused. From the courtroom balcony, three figures commented on the proceedings.

"I find this ‘justice system’ of yours most fascinating, Minute Man," intoned the Mentor in a low murmur. "Unlike anything I have encountered in my travels through the Domain. Lord Dominion’s appointed Autocrats commonly handle all matters of investigation, judgment, and punishment. Yet you people of Earth, after the capture of a known criminal, require further affirmation of guilt through a ‘trial by jury.’"

"Not all of Earth, friend, but certainly in America," answered the Minute Man with a slight chuckle. "The right to a trial by jury is a cornerstone of our nation’s foundation, and protects the innocent from being unfairly punished by the corrupt." His face darkened as he looked upon the proceedings. "And even if the accused is a ‘known criminal,’ he is still entitled to the rights and privileges of every American citizen."

"Presuming that his guilt is affirmed by the jury," mused Mentor, "his punishment will be unquestioned by the populace. Not because of fear, but from genuine belief in the system of justice. Most intriguing..."

"And, presuming that the system works, it’ll be real satisfying, too." Minute Man and Mentor turned to look at Order, who had been silent up to this point. The genial giant of a man was unusually somber. "Protecting the innocent is well and good, Minute Man, but the legal system has allowed criminals to walk free more times than I’d care to count."

"Patience, Don," came an unspoken voice from within. "The right of law will prevail."

"I know, Sarah, I know," thought Order. "I don’t know how you stay so calm, though. I mean, this is personal to the both of us..."

"It’s personal to a lot of people," responded the internal voice of Law. "And that’s why we need to be patient. This man killed Judge Wilson so as to thwart justice. Well, justice is balancing the scales now."

"I’m glad you feel that way, Sarah, but I can’t help but feel that he’s got another trick up his sleeve. I mean, he’s down there, listening to the charges being read against him, and he’s smiling!"

Indeed, Joey "Pinstripe" Rigotta was smiling from the defense’s table. Given that few had ever seen Pinstripe’s face in anything other than a vicious frown, unless it was down the length of his Tommy gun, the effect was rather unsettling. Turning to look at the balcony, his grin widened marginally as he nodded to Freedom Force.

Order’s hands tightened around his giant hammer, but relaxed with another interjection from Law. "I understand, Don. But one way or another, we’ll make sure that he faces justice. Together."

"Talking to Law again, friend?" Minute Man’s inquiry broke his internal contemplation.

"Yeah, MM, you know how it is," responded Order.

"Actually, I don’t see how I ever can," said Minute Man. "It seems that you never have a moment’s privacy."

Order nodded. "True, but at least I never feel like I’m alone. I just wish she could be here to see this..."

"I am here, Don, and I can see it. Not like before, perhaps, but I can sense it all the same. I’m surprised, however, that Nick isn’t here as well."

"That’s right!" Order exclaimed, drawing a number of stares from the crowd. Hastily dropping his voice, he asked, "Either of you know why Liberty Lad isn’t here? I thought he wouldn’t have missed this for the world."

"I know, chum," answered Minute Man, "but the lad said that he couldn’t neglect his duties. It’s admirable of him, not wanting to miss school."

Mentor frowned in disagreement. Minute Man was a true and noble friend, but so utterly blind at times. Liberty Lad had Minute Man’s headstrong, impetuous nature, and had on more than one occasion shown a willingness to feign illness at school if there was a need to knock heads together on the streets of Patriot City. However, a debate with Minute Man at this point would no doubt have disrupted the proceedings, so he kept his feelings to himself.

Meanwhile, down below, the opening statements had concluded and the trial had begun in earnest. Patriot City’s foremost district attorney, Bruce Adler, was doing a masterful job of presenting his evidence and witnesses. Yet for each shred of evidence, for each heartfelt witness that took the stand, Pinstripe’s attorney, Daniel Walker, successfully called into question.

Bruce had to admit, Daniel was different from most of Pinstripe’s attorneys. Forthright, tastefully dressed, and surprisingly averse to making dramatic speeches in the courtroom or out. And young. Bruce had thought this would be a slam-dunk case, and that he would send this wet-behind-the-ears defense lawyer home in humiliation, but he had to admit that Daniel was smooth and cool under pressure.

Or so he thought. True, Daniel was talented and never portrayed anything but a cool persona in public, but inside he was quivering with fear. Pinstripe was not an easy client to represent, as he had learned through the years when Joey Rigotta was just a Tommy-gun toting thug. Pinstripe’s last lawyer, the senior partner at Daniel’s law firm, had gone suspiciously absent after a poor verdict in an errant case had shut down one of Pinstripe’s "businesses." He had yet to return. And so Daniel had found himself suddenly elevated to junior partner, specially assigned to represent Pinstripe in all matters. Daniel wasn’t fooled. He’d been an expedient choice. But the strain of facing a vengeful Pinstripe on one hand and a public that reviled him for the task was slowly taking his toll. In the back of his head, he wondered when he might snap from the strain.

Daniel hadn’t decided whether Pinstripe’s uncharacteristic good humor made him feel better or worse. Mercifully, a recess was called, and Daniel conferred with his client.

Pinstripe jauntily lit up a cigar. "Kid, you’re doin’ a heck of a job. Like I told ya, we got nothing to worry about!"

"Mr. Rigotta, please put out that cigar." Daniel’s voice showed just a hint of nervousness. "The D.A. has yet to present his strongest witnesses, and..."

"Danny, kid! Forget about it! I’m tellin’ ya - we got everything covered."

Daniel raised an eyebrow in concern. "Mr. Rigotta?"

Pinstripe lowered his voice. "Yeah, kid. The judge, the jury..." He ground out his cigar on the table for emphasis. "Everything."

"But Mr. Rigotta, I thought we agreed..." hissed Daniel. "We were going to have a legitimate trial here!"

"Kid, don’t go around tryin’ to play a saint. It don’t suit ya," growled Pinstripe. "You’re good, but not that good. I mean c’mon! How else do ya think you did so well as you done? I made some calls, took care of things, and you turned a blind eye." Pinstripe grinned again, and jovially slapped Daniel on the back. "You know what they say about justice bein’ blind? It’s a beautiful thing."

Daniel coughed from the force of Pinstripe’s good-natured slap, and forced a phony smile. He had no idea what Pinstripe had done to ‘take care’ of things, but Pinstripe was not known for his subtlety. "You can’t do this, Mr. Rigotta! I... I’ll withdraw as counsel!"

Pinstripe’s grip clamped down on Daniel’s shoulder, silencing him. "No kid, I don’t think so. You see, if you walk out on me, certain documents will be found showin’ that you made a number of payments to a certain ‘subcontractor’ I know - Johnny ‘Nitro’ Fontaine."

Daniel’s stomach dropped, but he kept his grin locked in place. "Johnny Fontaine? Johnny the Jury-Killer?"

Pinstripe chuckled. "Whaddya know? Small world - you know da guy. Anyways, Johnny ain’t as clean as I am. If these guys make you for hiring Johnny, you’ll probably end up in a nice cell. Right next to me." Still grinning, Pinstripe narrowed his eyes and snarled, "I go down, you go down."

Back on the balcony, the three heroes watched with some unease.

"It would seem that Pinstripe’s guilt is not yet a foregone conclusion," observed Mentor.

"I knew it. I knew it!" Order growled. "Pinstripe and that crooked, sleazebag lawyer of his have gotten to the judge. There’s no way that they’re planning on letting things even get to the jury!"

"By the Founding Fathers, Order, calm yourself!" Minute Man knew that despite Order’s good nature, the threat of injustice could throw him into a dangerous rage. "The trial’s not over yet! Have faith in our justice system!"

Order grated, "We don’t have a justice system, we have a legal system. Justice comes from what we do, Minute Man. They keep using the legal system as a shield from justice."

"Don, get a hold of yourself and listen to Minute Man. The trial isn’t over yet." Law also knew of Order’s rages all too well. It was the one time when he slipped past even her ability to communicate with him.

Order took a couple of deep, ragged breaths, and nodded. "Yeah, you’re right. You’re both right." Standing up, he moved for the door.

Mentor turned to him, perplexed. "Order, why are you leaving? The trial is about to start again."

Order paused at the door. "I’m not leaving. Just going to do my part."

"The prosecution calls the heroine known as Law to the stand."

The courtroom buzzed again with unmatched fervor. On its lower level, the sturdy double doors opened and the regal figure of Law walked through. Waving away the D.A.’s offer of assistance, Law gracefully took her seat at the witness stand.

Daniel Walker leaped to his feet. "Your Honor, I object! You know from your pre-trial rulings that these vigilante superheroes aren’t allowed to take the stand! The fact that they mask themselves in secrecy so as to avoid being identified to the Court..."

"I have no reason to hide my identity," interjected Law. "I was once Sarah Whitney, assistant to Judge Wilson before he was murdered." She removed her blindfold, revealing her sightless eyes to all. "And while I may no longer be able to see like the rest of you," she intoned, turning to Pinstripe and pointing directly at him, "I can still identify his murderer without difficulty."

"Ha! That’ll show ‘em!" Order was jubilant within Law’s thoughts. "You’re the perfect witness, Sarah!"

"Objection! Objection! She is not yet sworn in! Those comments should be stricken from the record!" Daniel’s voice, though rising, did not convey the panic that he felt. Thoughts of being strangled to death by Pinstripe loomed in his mind. And then, out of the blue, a desperate new defense came to him...

"She... she’s conferring with someone else, your Honor!" Quickly organizing his thoughts, he said, "Law has been known to transform into her alter-ego, Order. Both of them have said that they are two, yet one. No doubt they’re communicating to each other throughout this whole process! Yet by this court’s local rules of evidence, a witness must appear alone on the stand, without coaching or conferral with other parties, so that her testimony may be her own, untainted!"

Judge Wilson’s successor, Judge Albright, paused and reflected upon the argument. "Is this true? Law - and Order, this court instructs you to answer this question."

Law felt Order wince within her as she addressed the court. "It is true, your Honor. We are two within one, never alone. I have communicated with him..." A shimmer of light surrounded Law, the brightness momentarily blinding those looking too closely, and died as Order now sat in her place. He finished her sentence, "as I have communicated with her. But, I swear, I’ll remain silent throughout her testimony! Her testimony won’t be tainted!"

"Ah..." said Daniel, fully regaining his composure. "But how will we be sure. Your communications with each other are silent. We have no means by which to be sure of your statement. Your Honor, I move that this witness... these witnesses," he amended, "be disqualified immediately!"

Judge Albright sighed. "Motion granted."

Order’s grip tightened on his hammer once more, but Law’s internal voice cautioned him immediately. "Don, don’t let this get to you. We’ll find another way. In the meantime, respect the judge’s ruling."

Dejectedly, Order rose from the stand.

At that moment, the doors of the courtroom burst open. Liberty Lad raced in at the head of a handful of Patriot City policemen, a triumphant grin on his face and a heavy book in his hands. Turning in his seat, Pinstripe took one look at Liberty Lad and scowled immediately.

"Sorry for the disturbance, your Honor," piped Liberty Lad, "but I just need a quick word with the district attorney here."

Judge Albright futilely banged his gavel to restore order as the court erupted in excitement once more. From the balcony above, Minute Man stood in outraged shock and disbelief to see that Nick Craft was not in fact at school, but continuing his crime fighting as Liberty Lad.

Mentor attempted to calm his friend, "Minute Man, you should not disrespect this court of law. You may reprimand the child at a more appropriate time and place. But for now, it seems that he has delivered a most interesting tome to your district attorney."

Minute Man, restrained more than anything by the invocation of propriety in a court of law, sat down abruptly. The rest of the hubbub in the courtroom died down slowly, and district attorney Bruce Adler addressed the judge.

"Your Honor, it seems that recently this young man, with the assistance of these fine officers of Patriot City, recovered this ledger from one of Mr. Rigotta’s warehouses. The testimony of the officers will show that it was obtained pursuant to a valid search warrant and was properly handled through the chain of evidence. These officers also inform me that they have obtained a confession from the bookkeeper who handled this ledger, who will be able to testify that certain payments have been made with respect to this trial..."

"Objection!" cried Daniel, who shot a hurried look at Pinstripe, who ground his teeth in frustration. "Your Honor, sidebar!"

With a gesture from Judge Albright, attorneys Bruce Adler and Daniel Walker approached the bench. Daniel only half-consciously heard the judge speak quietly to the both of them.

"It seems to me that far too much confusion has entered this courtroom," said Judge Albright. The presence of the members of Freedom Force, their dramatic entrances, and the like have severely prejudiced this jury. I can’t possibly say that a fair trial would be possible now. I’m going to declare a mistrial, schedule a fresh trial, at which point your ledger, Mr. Adler, may be admitted into evidence."

Daniel felt his world slipping away from him. "No! Your Honor, no... Surely this ledger can’t possibly be admitted into evidence at any trial."

"That will be determined at a future date," declared Judge Albright. "For now, my ruling stands."

The courtroom had once again broken into confusion, but Daniel fallen into a haze of obliviousness. He did not notice Order shaking hands with Liberty Lad, the smiles on the faces of Minute Man and Mentor, or the vindictive frown on Pinstripe’s face. His gaze slipped to a large, ornamental gavel that hung from the front of the judge’s bench. Detachedly, he looked at the inscription on the plaque beneath:

"A prayer out of a poor man’s mouth reacheth to the ears of God, and his judgment cometh speedily. Ecclesiasticus 21:5 In loving memory of Judge George A. Wilson."

Daniel snapped.

With a strangled cry, Daniel ripped the ornamental gavel away. Unbeknownst to him, the hammer of the gavel had been hollowed out and filled with a strange canister and delicate wiring and timing mechanism. The bomb, not meant to be jostled so dangerously, detonated the contents of the canister.

Mentor leaped to his feet, seeing an all-too-familiar flash of purple surround the hapless figure of Daniel Walker. "Suns of Sh’kar!" Mentor exclaimed. "That man has just been infused with a massive dose of... Energy X!"

When the purple haze faded, there was little to indicate that Daniel Walker had changed from the experience. But his focus had returned, and with it, a great anger for the situation that had, no doubt, just cost him his career.

"Court has not yet been adjourned," he said in a deep voice, "and I find you all... in CONTEMPT!"

Lashing out with every ounce of rage in his body, he brought the oversized gavel down upon the ledger and its fraudulent entries. All through the court, the assembled crowd felt a wave of hatred and anger sweep through them, stripping away all reason.

"Hey, jerk, get outta my way!" one of the Patriot City citizens snapped at another, shoving him viciously.

"Get your hands off my purse, you scum!" shrieked a woman, swinging it in a vicious arc at another.

Similar curses broke out through the courtroom as nearly everyone began shoving, kicking, and punching each other in a growing free-for-all.

Daniel looked around himself in wonder, and then looked down, mildly surprised to see that his feet no longer touched the floor. He hovered in the air, safely above the chaos that was breaking out below him. Slowly, his face broke into a wide grin. "My day in court will come again," he declared, "and on that day you all shall be JUDGED!" Daniel hovered towards a nearby window, casually smashed it with a swing of his gavel, and then floated out to the city beyond.

"Stars and bars!" proclaimed Minute Man. "This whole courtroom has gone mad!"

"It is worse than that, Minute Man. Look!" Mentor, ducking a wild haymaker from a maddened Patriot City citizen, pointed across the courtroom floor.

Gripping his hammer so tightly as if to break it, Order’s face was contorted with rage. His gaze swept across the courtroom to his most hated enemy, Pinstripe. A sea of brawling men and women was in his way. Order raised his hammer to clear a path, looking down furiously at the first body that he would sweep away.

"Gee whiz," thought Liberty Lad, "This is really going to hurt..."

To be continued...