With Justice For All - part 4: Justice is Served
by Viking

When Last We Left Our Heroes...

"All right, Jury," Order thundered, his rage having dropped to a low simmer, "give me one good reason why I shouldn't give you a pounding!"

Though apparently at Order's mercy, the Juryman managed a cocky smile. "Just one, tough guy? How about a dozen? Explosives, if you hafta know. Set up to go off in less than half an hour in every major restaurant in downtown Patriot City! If you're gonna keep kickin' me around, Patriot City will suffer from the biggest case of heartburn since Fat Sal changed his chile recipe!"

Stunned by the revelation, Order's grip loosened enough for the Juryman to twist out of his grasp and scurry down an alley. This was way beyond what either he or Law could handle. Much as he hated to admit it, he needed to work with Freedom Force to protect Patriot City.

Ordinarily, either Law or Order could have contacted the Mentor with a thought and thus alerted the rest of Freedom Force as to the impending disaster. But the Mentor, fully respecting the right of Law and Order to work things out without a hint of mental intrusion, had cut off his telepathic link to them.

Law and Order stood dumbfounded by the former offices of McCabe, Morrison and Crowley, each silently contemplating a twelve-fold re-enactment of the devastation.

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of Patriot City, a fire was blazing in the Warehouse District. Yet while the members of the Patriot City Fire Department struggled mightily to keep the fire under control, a lone figure charged fearlessly into the threatened building, leaving a silvery blur behind him. Moving so quickly that the flames could not approach him, Dwight Arrow, otherwise known as the Bullet, searched for victims trapped within. He had already pulled a half dozen workers from the inferno, and was making a final sweep of the area.

Hearing a muted cry for help, he quickly zeroed in on the source to discover one last worker pinned under a fallen beam. Bullet grabbed the beam, lifted it to chest level, and then released it. With lightning reflexes, he grabbed the prone worker and pulled him away before the beam crashed back to the floor. "Next time you look for a warm vacationing spot, try Florida!" he quipped. Bullet rested the man over his backside, and then zipped out of the building to deliver him to safety.

One of the firefighters relieved Bullet of his burden and guided the injured worker away from the blaze. With the victims rescued, Bullet could concentrate on aiding the firefighters in combating the fire. His speed was such that lesser flames were flattened and extinguished by his passage, but Dwight knew that he needed to focus his attention on the larger conflagration in the center of the warehouse. Bullet circled the central blaze with increasing speed, creating a swirling column of air that forced the flames upwards and away from its source of fuel. As a large section of the ceiling had already collapsed, the flames passed through the gaping hole and died high in the air above.

Dwight zipped out of the warehouse to survey the building from the outside. Nodding with satisfaction, he noted that the Patriot City firefighters now had the situation well under control. He was about to exchange words with the captain when something caught his eye. Above the rise of buildings, Bullet saw an ominous cloud of smoke rising from across the city.

Bullet addressed the captain. "Hope I'm not makin' y'all look bad, Chief," he drawled, "but it seems you could deal with a bit more help across town." Knowing that further words would only waste precious seconds, the Bullet tore down the streets of Patriot City...

...and arrived at the devastated offices of McCabe, Morrison and Crowley a heartbeat later. Order started at the sudden arrival of Freedom Force's speedster, still speechless. Bullet didn't hesitate to fill the silence. "Well that's a first - somebody beat me to the action! Care to tell me what happened here?"

Order's mind snapped back into focus. "There's a new set of villains in town, Bullet. They call themselves the Judge and Jury, and they've rigged the restaurants in downtown Patriot City with explosives!"

Bullet nodded. "Well, I guess I better not waste any more time jabbering with ya, then! Maybe I'll see you and the rest of Freedom Force when I have things all cleaned up!"

Knowing Bullet's tendency to charge off at the end of dialogue, Order quickly raised his voice over Bullet's. "Bullet, I'm not part of Freedom Force anymore!"

Order managed to finish his sentence just as Bullet was leaving. Bullet had sped down ten blocks before the impact of Order's words fully registered. Shocked by the sudden news, Bullet tripped, caught his balance, and did a double take so fast that a blinking observer would have missed it. A fraction of a second later, and Dwight was standing beside Order once more.

"Buddy, I never thought I'd have to say this, but slow down! You're way ahead of me!" Bullet's voice was incredulous.

"I'm not proud of it, Bullet, but I told Mentor that I was leaving. I was too afraid that I'd lose control in a bad situation. Now I don't have a telepathic link with the rest of Freedom Force, and..."

"Okay partner, we're on the same page now," Bullet interrupted. "I'll make sure Mentor gets the word. Now let's kick the tires and light the fires!" Before Order could say another word, Bullet had zipped off once more.

"Don, he doesn't know what they're capable of!" Law thought.

"I know, Sarah. I know," thought Order wearily. "Man, I wish he'd stop doing that. But we better be on our way. Care to take point?"

"Sure thing, Don," thought Law warmly. "It's good to have you back."

Soon, Law was making her way towards downtown Patriot City. Neither she nor Order knew what they would find by the time they arrived downtown, but they were united in purpose once more.

Bullet sped down the streets of Patriot City, concentrating on establishing a mental link with Mentor. "Looks like we got cleanup duty in the downtown restaurants, Mentor, and I don't mean doin' the dishes."

Mentor's response was immediate. "I understand, Bullet. Your progress is being monitored at the Freedom Fortress. Minute Man, Liberty Lad and I are en route in the Freedom Flyer to assist you. Exercise caution, however! We have no time to evacuate the citizens, and do not want to start a panic."

"Shucks, Mentor," thought Bullet, "I'll be in and out before these diners switch from their salads to the main course!"

Bullet sped into the first restaurant that he came across, coming to a stop right in front of its maitre di. The force of Bullet's entry caused a minor gale of wind to sweep through with him, mussing the maitre di's immaculately combed hair. Despite the flashy entrance, the maitre di quickly regained his composure.

"Will... sir be dining alone this evening?" he inquired with a mild hint of curiosity.

Bullet flashed a friendly grin. "Nice of you to ask, pal, but I'm guessin' that this place don't exactly serve fast food. This place have a boiler room?"

The maitre di looked puzzled, but didn't argue. "Of course... just past the kitchens..."

Seeing the maitre di point a general direction, Bullet nodded. "Thanks for the tip, buddy! This'll just take a moment!" The silver-clad hero whizzed through the restaurant, causing tablecloths to flap loudly in his wake and leaving the air abuzz with rumors. Bullet was soon inspecting the boiler room, where he suspected a bomber would have planted explosives. His suspicions were confirmed when he discovered an out-of-place package behind the main boiler.

Bullet smiled to himself. "Gotta love it when they're predictable," he remarked, and then set to the work of opening the package and defusing its contents. Combining speed and a delicate touch, the Bullet was able to remove the blasting caps with little difficulty. Satisfied with his work, he sped back to the maitre di, who had only just finished combing his hair back into position.

"Alright, chum, everything's a-ok!" Bullet smirked devilishly. "Though I think your head chef's overcooking the salmon just a bit!" Without another word, Bullet raced out the door, back into the heart of Patriot City.

Uncertain of what had just happened, the maitre di fished for his comb again. "Superheroes..." he sighed.

Several blocks away, atop one of the restaurants, the Judge watched impassively. Mentally gauging the Bullet's speed, he nodded to himself. True, the Bullet could travel great distances almost instantaneously, but there was always a delay after he entered each restaurant. Locating the explosives, disarming them, and keeping the citizens calm all the while... these things took time.

The Judge suddenly became aware of the sound of someone climbing up the building's fire escape, breathing heavily. He turned to greet the Jury as he reached the rooftop.

"So good of you to join us, Jury... Have you finished your deliberations?"

The Jury furrowed his brow in confusion as he caught his breath. "Deliberations?" he asked. Realization suddenly dawned. "Oh, yeah, I gotcha. My boys are gettin' into position right now, and I had one of them make the phone call that you wanted."

The Jury directed the Judge's attention to several other nearby rooftops, where several duplicate Jurymen were only just arriving and concealing themselves. He grinned evilly. "It's amazin' how much more you can do when you can be in twelve different places at once!"

Meanwhile, in an abandoned warehouse in another part of town, an irate Pinstripe was chewing out his assembled lieutenants.

"I can't believe dis!" he fumed. "These Freedom Force punks have been hittin' us left, right and center, and we haven't even given 'em a black eye to show for it! In my day, if someone muscled in on your turf, you muscled right back at 'em - with interest! 'Cuz if you didn't, you were soft!"

Pinstripe lowered his voice with deadly intent, aiming his Tommy gun at one of his lackeys. "And if you were soft, that meant you weren't good for nothin' more than a pincushion..."

"But Pinstripe, we've tried takin' those do-gooders down!" blurted out the gangster as he looked nervously at the gun's barrel. Contradicting Pinstripe was generally viewed as suicidal, but the high-class thug realized that silence wasn't very likely to keep himself in one piece, either.

"I mean, Freedom Force has taken on supervillains, dinosaurs, and aliens, fer cryin' out loud!" the lieutenant continued. "What are guns and bats compared to that?"

A tense silence reigned for several seconds. Then Pinstripe chuckled.

"Finally found yer spine, eh Vinnie?" Pinstripe lowered his weapon and grinned at his companions. "That's the thing we need to beat these bozos! Well, the first thing, at any rate."

Pinstripe gestured expansively. "This is a war, boys! And you don't win wars by lettin' your enemy pick the battleground! We're gonna take the fight to them, when they least expect it! We keep our ears to the ground, wait to hear when they're tangling with some villain or other disaster, and then we move with everything we've got! And finally... we up the ante."

Pinstripe casually walked over to some crates in the corner of the warehouse. Exchanging his firearm for a crowbar, Pinstripe effortlessly pried the tops loose. Reaching into the first, he pulled out a foreign-looking rifle and tossed it to one of his lieutenants. "Smuggled these out of the police lock-up after they booked that Nuclear Winter and his Communist cronies," he gloated.

"But don't think we've given up on all the old ways," Pinstripe continued as he fished through another crate. He soon found what he was looking for and pulled up a tight bundle of dynamite.

At that moment, one of Pinstripe's henchmen came running into the room. "Boss! I just got a call from one of the boys! Freedom Force is busy defusing bombs through all the downtown restaurants, and the citizens are goin' nuts!"

Pinstripe chuckled. "Well, well, well..." he mused. "Guess we'll just have to add to the fireworks!"

Patriot City's most brutal crime boss gestured for the assembled gangsters to arm themselves. "Welcome to the war, boys," he growled ominously.

Back in downtown Patriot City, Bullet ran towards the last cluster of restaurants on his route. The moment that he entered the first building, the Judge dropped down from above.

"Pinstripe will arrive expecting a scene of utter chaos," he remarked as he slammed his gavel to the ground, spreading fury to the diners within the restaurant. "It would be a shame to disappoint him." Having spread his havoc, the Judge waited for Bullet to emerge.

Inside the restaurant, the Bullet emerged from another successful bomb diffusion, expecting to be on his way with another glib comment. He was stunned to see his path blocked by various diners attacking one another, and noted with dismay that much of their hostility was beginning to turn towards him. Disoriented by a hail of cutlery that was thrown in his general direction, he scanned the area for the source of the unnatural anger. Catching a glimpse of the black-robed Judge outside, he arrived at the obvious conclusion. "Got a bogey," he murmured as he prepared to weave through the crowd and charge the Judge.

The Judge, having gauged Bullet's speed, had waited for just this moment. He lifted an outstretched hand toward Bullet. "Hold!" he commanded.

Bullet braked to an abrupt halt just outside the restaurant, his fist stopping inches from the Judge's face. Though he strained mightily, he could not break the Judge's mental paralysis. The Judge calmly walked away from the immobile Bullet, and repeated his work of inducing rage in the adjacent restaurants. The enraged patrons began to spill into the streets with their brawls, but the Judge had risen above the chaos once more to confer with his partner, the Jury.

"I suspect that the rest of Freedom Force will be arriving shortly. Do you think that your clones will be able to keep them busy until Pinstripe arrives?"

Jury met the Judge's faceless gaze. "Yeah, Judge, I think so. They should be able to keep things stirred up."

"Then let us away, Jury," intoned the Judge. "Our next course of business needs to be conducted without interruption, and I should hate to think that our efforts were wasted here." The Judge floated away from the rooftop, leaving the Jury to sigh and take the mundane route down.

"Showoff," the Jury grumbled.

At ground level, the Bullet could only look on in paralyzed horror at the chaos that was slowly unfolding. Windows shattered outwards as combating citizens were hurled through the panes of glass. Following up on their attacks, the enraged epicureans of Patriot City soon filled the streets. Bullet found himself the target of a multitude of punches. Due to his extraordinary physique, he barely felt even a sting from the blows. On the rooftops, however, several Jurymen took aim at the immobile target within the swarm of chaos below.

"Bullet, meet bullets," they chorused.

Dwight Arrow was struck from six different angles by Jurymen gunfire. Unlike the battery from the citizens around him, this onslaught stung quite a bit. His paralysis faded, and Bullet collapsed to the ground from a lack of balance. The Jurymen maintained their assault, and though a few bullets clipped the unfortunate maddened citizen, most of them found their mark, causing Bullet to lose focus. Bullet found himself in the unthinkable position of being pinned down by enemy fire.

Meanwhile, well above the buildings of Patriot City, the Freedom Flyer hastened toward the chaotic scene. Mentor furrowed his brow his concentration, splitting his focus between piloting the Freedom Flyer and maintaining the telepathic link between the members of Freedom Force.

"Rings of Reznor!" he exclaimed. "We must hurry! Our friend, the Bullet, is in danger!"

"That's right, sports fans," came the voice of the Ant through Mentor's telepathic link. "The Freedom Force computers have homed in on Bullet's location - the corner of Lincoln and 45th. Looks like he's taking a beating from a six-way crossfire. Ordinarily I'd say the odds still favored Bullet, but the crowd seems to have gotten a little irritable!"

"That sounds like the work of David Walker," noted the Minute Man with stern disapproval.

"Guess we'll need to focus on crowd control again, eh Minute Man?" Liberty Lad still managed to sound cheerful, despite the tense situation.

"Right, chum," answered Minute Man, "but first we'll need to give both Mentor and Bullet some breathing room!"

Having reached the scene of rioting citizens, Mentor brought the Flyer to hover twenty feet above one of the buildings where a pair of Jurymen were positioned. Noticing the sudden shadow looming above them, they began shooting ineffectually at the Freedom Flyer. Mentor opened the rear entrance to the Freedom Flyer with the flick of a switch, and Minute Man and Liberty Lad jumped down to the rooftop below. The patriotic pair rushed the two Jurymen and made quick work of them with a series of powerful blows.

"Good Golly, Minute Man!" exclaimed Liberty Lad as he saw the exact duplicates of the Jury on the adjacent rooftops. "This looks like Deja Vu all over again!"

"Interesting theory, lad," Minute Man remarked as he proceeded to deflect bullets that some Jurymen were beginning to direct in his direction, "but we can determine that after we defuse this situation!"

One of the Jurymen, realizing that his standard tactics were ineffective, holstered his pistols and produced a grenade. "Let's see you knock this aside!" he mocked as he pulled the pin and threw.

Realizing that deflecting the explosive would still leave him within its blast radius, Minute Man desperately ran towards the Juryman who threw it, preparing to leap over the gap between buildings. Minute Man still felt the edge of the blast, however, and stumbled as he landed unceremoniously near a pair of Jurymen.

Liberty Lad's natural urge was to rush to help his idol, but he held himself in check. Realizing that Bullet's predicament took priority, Liberty Lad turned towards another rooftop where a pair of Jurymen were still concentrating their fire on Bullet. Mimicking the voice of the Juryman that he had heard moments ago, he called out, "Hey! Is your mother still dressing you funny?"

One of the Jurymen turned immediately on the other. "You should know," he snarled. "She dresses you the exact same way!" Having fallen for Liberty Lad's trickery, the two Jurymen turned their fire on each other with predictable effect. Smiling impishly, Liberty Lad turned his attention to the rioters below. Repeating a tactic from the courtroom earlier that day, he dropped a stun grenade into the melee below, which gave Bullet a comparatively simple path to navigate.

No longer suffering from the full barrage of twelve Jurymen, Bullet shook the dizziness from his head and sprinted away, narrowly avoiding the bullets that embedded themselves in the street behind him. Wincing from the pain, he nevertheless continued on his resolute task to defuse the remaining bombs in the restaurants.

By this point, Mentor had landed the Freedom Flyer on an adjacent street, and was approaching the scene on foot to help calm the enraged citizens. Having accounted for six Jurymen already, Minute Man and Liberty Lad now turned their gaze to the rooftops on the opposite side of the street, where another six Jurymen remained. Minute Man and Liberty Lad hopped down to the streets below and approached the buildings to take on the last of the Jurymen.

Intent upon their respective missions, the heroes did not think twice about the four cars that screeched to a halt on the cross-streets adjoining the situation that they sought to contain. Nor did they notice the gangsters that emerged from each of them... until they had brought their weapons to bear and fired icy blasts at each of them.

"Moons of..." Mentor cried out, but did not get a chance to finish. He was cut off mid-sentence by a frigid blast that encased him in a block of ice. Minute Man was also caught unawares by the surprise assault, and was sent sailing through the air by a concentrated beam of cold. Liberty Lad, with his highly trained senses, instinctively launched himself into a series of flips and tumbles that allowed him to dodge the first wave of cold rays. However, one of the gangsters, showing unusual foresight, turned his freeze ray on a fire hydrant near Liberty Lad. The force of the blast shattered the hydrant, and the surrounding area was quickly drenched. The dampened streets subsequently became slick with ice from the continued exposure to the freezing rays, and Liberty Lad's feet went out from under him at the completion of his latest handspring. He skidded across the now-icy streets and crashed into one of the buildings. Bullet emerged from a restaurant, having defused the last of the bombs, only to skid in similar fashion upon setting foot on the icy sidewalk. Sliding across the ice at a few hundred miles per hour, he crashed into another building with such force that even he felt rattled. "Did Nuclear Winter join the party?" he wondered dimly as he struggled to regain his balance.

To be continued...