With Justice For All - part 6: The Execution of Justice
by Viking

When Last We Left Our Heroes...

Minute Man's eyes narrowed as he looked disapprovingly at the computers and diagrams. "And just what sort of research were you conducting here, Dr. Drake?"

Dr. Drake sighed in mild exasperation. "In case you hadn't guessed already, Minute Man, weapons research." Seeing that Minute Man was about to interject with another burst of outrage, Dr. Drake gestured for him to refrain for a moment longer. "And you really are in no position to criticize us for it. It would quite rude, especially given what these labs have already provided to one of your members."

Minute Man brought himself up short, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?" he asked suspiciously.

Dr. Drake's eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. "You mean you really don't know? It was in this research facility that one of our brightest, Tom Taylor, designed the armor that came to be worn by Man-Bot."

Dr. Leo Drake paused to see if any response was forthcoming, but both Minute Man and Mentor were stunned silent by the revelation. He shrugged and continued. "Of course, Tom's intent was to use it to help crippled people walk, but I always felt that the armor had so much more potential than that. When Tom Taylor brought a stranger into these labs under great secrecy, I said nothing out of respect for his genius and his privacy. But when Tom turned up dead shortly afterwards and the armor went missing, it didn't take another genius to realize what had happened. I could have informed the authorities, thereby making the stranger a fugitive from the law."

Mentor frowned. "Yet obviously you did not. Why?"

Leo Drake's expression became earnest. "Because I knew that this was an opportunity to witness the power of the armor in action. Whoever took that armor intended to use it, and would achieve far more in the field than could be done in any lab. Most happily, he became a valued member of Freedom Force, and I followed his exploits closely. He exceeded even my expectations. It would seem that we've had a mutually beneficial relationship, even if you were unaware of it."

"I don't think I like the sound of that, pal," said the Minute Man. He examined one of the blueprints more closely, and his eyes widened in shock and recognition. "Wait a minute!" he exclaimed.

"Indeed," remarked Dr. Drake cooly. "I see you recognize the radiation gun that was used by Deja Vu. We managed to obtain it following his defeat, and subsequently reverse-engineered it. Delta Labs has been able to analyze and experiment on several other weapons formerly wielded by your foes. The advancements that we have been able to achieve are astounding."

Mentor's face darkened, mirroring Minute Man's disapproving expression. "But why do you continue this research of such destructive weaponry?"

Dr. Drake gave an exasperated sigh. "Because as grateful as this country is for the altruism of Freedom Force, the rest of mankind still needs to be ready to fight those who would seek to destroy our way of life! Our country must be strengthened to stand up against the likes of Communists, giant robots, and alien invasions!"

Minute Man gritted his teeth, but chose not to continue the debate. "You still haven't told us what happened here, Drake."

The scientist idly removed his glasses and polished them before addressing the question. "These labs were invaded by a group of people calling themselves the Judge and Jury. Our scientists attempted to repel them using their most recently developed experiments, but the Judge was apparently able to wreak havoc with their minds and it was not long before our scientists were turning their weapons on each other. With our scientists disabled, the Jury cloned himself and appropriated all of the weapons prototypes that we were working on."

"And did they give any indication of what they intended to do with such an arsenal?" inquired Mentor.

"Not as such, I'm afraid. Once they had what they desired, the Judge simply proclaimed that not even Freedom Force would be able to stay his hand in the execution of justice."

Mentor's brow furrowed in thought. "We will require blueprints of the weapons that were stolen," he remarked.

Dr. Drake nodded, and gestured to one of the other researchers. A sheaf of papers was soon handed to the alien mentalist. Mentor flipped through the pages stoically, recognizing versions of freeze rays, flamethrowers, and ray guns wielded by the host of villains that Freedom Force had faced in the past. His composure crumbled when he viewed the last blueprint, however.

"Suns of Shakar!" he exclaimed. "Praetor's battle staff!"

"Ah, yes... we spared no expense in obtaining that piece of equipment after you repelled the alien invasion," Dr. Drake commented with a measure of pride. "We had not yet been able to make any real progress in analyzing it, however."

"And for good reason!" noted Mentor sternly. "The technology that you discovered acts only as a focus for those that wield the power of Energy X. It serves as a weapon of terrifying power, and is not meant for idle tinkering!"

"Our experiments are hardly idle tinkering," replied Dr. Drake in an icy tone. "And as for preparing weapons of terrifying power, they are what have inevitably allowed our country to maintain peace. Qui desiderat pacem, preparet bellum. Who desires peace, should prepare for war."

Minute Man's outrage burst forth once more. "You'd better be careful, Drake! The peace that you envision may only be that of the grave. And as for our country, I think it's already strong enough to withstand the Communists, robots, alien invasions... and people like you." Turning his back to Dr. Drake, the patriotic defender stalked out of the labs. Mentor followed him, wordlessly.

Dr. Leo Drake watched the pair leave the room before making his way to his private office. Shortly thereafter, he heard a timid knock at his door. "Yes, Timms, come in," he said with a trace of disdain.

Rupert Timms nervously entered. "Ah... the... um... police have just arrived, sir. Just as Freedom Force was leaving."

Dr. Drake nodded. "Give them the abbreviated version of what happened. No need to show them to the labs. Since they should already know that Freedom Force is looking into this, they should be only too happy to take a report and go back to chasing muggers." He narrowed his eyes at Rupert, and added, "I really don't want to have to give another explanation of how the Judge and Jury made off with our penultimate discovery."

Rupert scratched his head in puzzlement. "Um... don't you mean ultimate, sir? Penultimate means the next to last, so..." He gulped as he noted that Dr. Drake's glare was intensifying, and awkwardly scurried out of the office.

"Idiot," remarked the senior researcher. Dr. Drake picked up a notebook from his desk, fished an access card out of his pocket, and made his way to another lab in a secluded portion of the facility. He swept his card through the reader, unlocking the secured doors marked "106".

And entered to look upon the ultimate discovery of Delta Labs.

A tangled web of cables stretched to various sections of the walls and ceiling of the room, attached to devices that emitted a low hum. The cables converged to connect to a cylindrical machine in the center of the room, from which one could see the trace hint of a soft purple glow. Dr. Drake proceeded to write in his personal notebook in a neat, steady script.

"The unknown energy that we have been harvesting has been confirmed as the same Energy X that empowered the members of Freedom Force. Whoever Tom Taylor brought into Lab 106 must have been exposed to a massive dose of Energy X, as his very presence left the walls infused with the same substance. Our harvest goes slowly, but steadily, and Lab 106 shows every sign of being a renewable source of Energy X."

"Though I originally found Rupert's idea of ‘leaking' Energy X to Johnny Fontaine a dubious one, it may yet produce useful results. Not only has Mr. Fontaine been transformed by the Energy X, but he has discovered a far more intelligent associate who has been similarly exposed and already shows an impressive display of telepathic abilities. This stranger, who goes by the name of the Judge, traced Mr. Fontaine's source of Energy X back to Delta Labs, and demanded what more we could provide. As we had but one canister left from our most recent harvest, I convinced him that such was the last of our supply."

"Mr. Fontaine, now known as the Jury, saw fit to appropriate all working prototypes of our weapons research division. Our research should benefit from an unfettered field testing, at least. However, it was the Judge who fixed upon the potential of the alien battle staff, as it has been identified by the Freedom Force member known as Mentor. Naturally, I answered his questions about its use to the best of my ability, though I remained silent about the observational devices that I had added to it."

Back in the Freedom Fortress, Order was pacing. It was what he and Law always defaulted to when they were without guidance as to how to proceed. Order hated inaction when there was something that needed to be done, and tended to give Law a headache from pent-up anxiety if he wasn't able to do something about it. Law, on the other hand, was content to contemplate the situation until a solution presented itself. Letting Order pace was the best alternative for both of them.

Still, the rhythm of his footsteps did little to ease his mind. "I don't like this, Sarah," he complained inwardly. "Somewhere out there, the Judge and Jury are planning something even worse than we've seen so far!"

"I know, Don," came Law's calm reply. She couldn't help but feel a little anxious, herself. Mentor's telepathic report of the theft at Delta Labs had left everyone feeling uneasy, as the prospect of facing the combined weaponry of all of their past foes was not a pleasant one. "But everyone's doing all that they can. Bullet's on patrol, Liberty Lad's recuperating from our last battle, and the Ant is researching one of his hunches on the computers."

Order stopped pacing with Law's last comment and looked up. Indeed, the Ant was sitting attentively at the main terminals, scrolling through old newspaper articles. Order had spent the better part of the hour pacing behind him as he worked, each one oblivious to the other.

"I don't know how he does it," thought Order as he shook his head.

"It actually makes sense, if you think about it," commented Law. "He's diligent, focused, and able to keep working on tasks that would seem horribly monotonous... just like his namesake."

Order was pondering the truth of her observation when Minute Man and Mentor strode in, deep in conversation.

"But why did Dr. Drake's comments agitate you so?" queried the Mentor. "His zeal for weapons development is naturally disturbing, but they seemed to shake you more than I thought possible."

"It's not so much his destructive research as his reasons for doing so," responded Minute Man with a trace of bitterness. "He genuinely seems to think that he's doing this for his country. Even George Washington, when he addressed the First Congress of the United States, declared that being prepared for war was one of the most assured ways of keeping peace. But I've seen the terrors that come from such preparations."

Minute Man gave a long sigh. "And as much as Dr. Drake's viewpoint disgusts me, he nevertheless has the right to think that way. I guess that when I heard his view of serving America... I began to doubt myself."

Order snapped to attention. "Don't talk that way, Minute Man! Don't even start! This team had enough trouble when I acted that way."

Mentor nodded his concurrence. "Order is correct. What you said to Dr. Drake was not empty bravado. So long as you hold fast to your beliefs, Minute Man, your own vision for your country will never fade."

"Ha! That's it!" cried the Ant as he leapt up from the terminal, unaware of the philosophical conversation that had taken place.

The other three heroes shared a moment of bemused expressions at the Ant's single-mindedness before gathering around the screen. "What have you discovered, lad?" asked the Minute Man.

"Well, since villains commonly seem to settle old scores that have bothered them in the past, I thought I'd look through all the stories I could find about David Walker's past," explained the Ant. "It turns out that the first case that he ever tried was also the only one he ever lost - a triple homicide. But that's not all! The defendant was sentenced to the maximum penalty, and sent to Death Row. And his execution is set for today!"

"Stars and Bars!" exclaimed Minute Man. "The Judge said that we wouldn't be able to stay the execution of justice!"

"And an execution's a major affair," noted Order. "The press always shows up, along with the D.A., and it's not too surprising to find the chief of police, the mayor, maybe even the governor..."

Silence descended over the assembled members of Freedom Force. Liberty Lad entered at that moment, having finished recuperating with the Mentor's regenerative technology. "Ok, gang, Liberty Lad's back and ready for... whoa! What's with the long faces? And whose mug shot is that?" Everyone turned to look at the face of the condemned, prominently displayed on the screen."

"Clubber Johnson."

The Judge's statement was met by a prison guard's glazed expression. His will had already crumbled in the face of the Judge's hypnotic power. "His execution takes place in about half an hour," he droned. "In the gas chamber on the south end of the prison."

"Thank you for your cooperation," intoned the Judge. "And should any members of Freedom Force stop by, be so good as to sound the alarm."

The guard nodded, and the Judge swept down the hallways of the prison, followed by a grinning Jury. His cohort carried a large black duffel bag over each shoulder, each filled with experimental weapons pillaged from Delta Labs. Every so often they encountered a guard who was suddenly frozen into silence with a gesture from the Judge.

"So Judge, do you really think Freedom Force is gonna show?" asked the Jury.

"I should be sorely disappointed if they did not," replied the Judge. He paused before the most recently encountered guard, and freed him from his paralysis. "The prisoners in this cell block have served their sentences. See that they are released immediately," he commanded.

"Yes, Your Honor," came the dim response, as the guard hastened to the switches that would open the cell doors.

The Judge turned to address the occupants of the cell block, who up until now had watched the proceedings in silence.

"Prisoners on Death Row!" cried the Judge. "Your sentences are hereby commuted! My associate shall provide you with the tools of your trade, that you may resume your professions once more!"

Taking his cue, the Jury quickly copied himself, and his duplicates proceeded to distribute the high-tech arsenal to the convicts as the cell doors swung open.

The Judge continued his address, his voice becoming more earnest. "As you have been found to be rehabilitated, you are free to go. However, those of you who continue your employment with me will have the unique opportunity to give your... personal thanks to those responsible for your rehabilitation."

Not a day of captivity had gone by without each of the hardened criminals silently contemplating what they would do if they could get back at those responsible for their confinement. None of them had ever really believed that they would get the chance. Grins slowly broke out among the former prisoners, accompanied by some grim chuckles.

"Your upstanding community spirit is well-noted," remarked the Judge. "You may start by trading in those prison issues for more suitable attire! Your former guards should be happy to oblige you."

The chuckles grew into full-fledged laughter as the Death Row inmates realized that all of the guards were either immobile or unresisting, and wasted no time in changing outfits and places with the guards.

"See that this area remains secure!" called out the Judge as he proceeded to the south end of the prison. "I must see to the last of your number!"

Behind the Judge, eleven Jurymen walked in perfect synchronization. The original hurried up beside the Judge. "So, Judge, we're gonna stop Clubber Johnson's execution, now?"

"No," came the Judge's simple reply.

Twelve Jurymen came to an abrupt halt. "No?" they chorused.

The Judge marched on, unperturbed. The Jurymen looked at each other in confusion, shrugged, and hastened to catch up.

To be continued...