Justiciar: HERA’S REVENGE
By Doc Proteus
Justiciar created by Jeanne Thorne
Amanda Young picked at her
clams casino and nodded pleasantly at her friend’s inane chatter about who was
sleeping with whom among the polo club set this week.
Although Amanda had grown up in that world, and found it necessary to make the
occasional appearance at posh restaurants like Saudelli’s
tonight, she had little interest anymore in the doings of the rich and
shameless in the rolling suburbs north of New Rivendell.
Or rather, little interest in their adulteries and tax shelters. When it came
to whispers of high crimes and rumors of evildoing among their number, however,
Amanda Young was most interested indeed. Especially tonight - Elizabeth Baxter
had been missing now for three days.
She stopped the blonde’s
chatter with an upraised hand, cutting in with her best idle drawl, “That’s all
well and good, Tiffany darling, but tell me more about poor Liz Baxter. It
sounds perfectly horrible.”
Tiffany shrugged and played
with the rings on her fingers, taking her sweet time sipping her vodka tonic
before answering. “They say she’s been kidnapped, pulled right out of her car
in front of the house. I think it’s all a hoax. Why wasn’t it in the papers?”
Because
the police wouldn’t release that information, you dolt. “But Tiff -
why would anyone fake Liz’s kidnapping?”
Tiffany shrugged again,
a gesture that made the thought of planting a roundhouse kick right across that
very expensive nose more attractive to Amanda every time she did it. “Who knows
for sure, but I’d be willing to bet that right now Liz is living it up in
Amanda tuned Tiffany
out and set her mind to processing this new information. Liz Baxter steal her father’s password and live it up in
Tiffany was oblivious
to the transformation that came over Amanda across the small table. Though
Amanda Young remained her lithe 5’8”, with a patrician yet sensual face framed
by dark waves of hair that cascaded to mid-back, there was something in her
grey eyes like storm clouds gathering. Beneath her tight, short black dress,
gymnast’s muscles flexed and corded. In all but the necessary change of attire
Amanda Young had become her other self, the nocturnal defender of New Rivendell’s innocents against insensate evil - Justiciar.
Amanda excused herself
and made her way through the dim bistro toward the ladies’ room, fully aware of
every pair of eyes, male and female, that took in her long, shapely legs and
model’s figure as she passed. Liz Baxter kidnapped, but no ransom demand,
she mulled. Last check of known perps in the area
revealed no professional kidnappers, mob or otherwise, and if it happened right
in front of the Baxter house it had to be a pro job. If I didn’t know better
I’d say it was a Hera Domitian
caper, but she’s never getting out of prison. She’ll die in Russmeyer
Penitentiary, thanks to Justiciar. Once in the
restroom she set her purse on the counter and pulled out a sleek cellular
phone. But though she held the phone, the line of communication she opened was
the subcutaneous microtransceiver imbedded behind her
right ear. For the benefit of anyone who might walk in she held the phone to
her ear, touched the soft spot behind the earlobe and murmured, “Jill? Pick up,
please.”
There was no answer
from Amanda’s girl Friday. Amanda felt a momentary twinge of distress but
quelled it with Justiciar’s steely resolve. After a
minute, Amanda put her phone away and exited the restroom at a fast walk. She
paused at her table just long enough to grab her black overcoat and mutter an
excuse to the startled Tiffany before heading out of Saudelli’s
and out to the curb where her sleek silver Jaguar waited.
* * *
High up in the heart of
the Young Building, Amanda stopped the elevator two floors below the penthouse
and got off the elevator at a brisk trot past the rows of doors to plush luxury
apartments. Her two-inch black pumps were in her purse and she made no sound as
she ran to the end of the hall, barely breaking stride to hit the secret button
in the wainscoting that opened a sliding panel in the far wall. She had
foreseen the need long ago to have a secret approach and escape route to her
penthouse and had this apparatus installed under the cover of fumigating the
building. Her weight on the pressure plate just inside the cubbyhole sent the
mini-elevator shooting up the hidden shaft silently.
Two seconds later she
emerged warily into her bedroom, every sense alive and scanning the dark, her
taut body in a defensive jeet kune
do stance as she padded across the carpet on the balls of her feet. Amanda made
her way to the bedroom door and down the hall toward the huge living room, her
eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness that permeated the apartment. This was
not good. Jill would never leave the apartment without contacting her, and
certainly without leaving a few lights on for her. And if she was in the Haven,
their secret headquarters in the building’s sub-sub-basement, the girl would
have answered one of the many calls Amanda had made while running red lights
all the way home. It could only mean the unthinkable - one of Justiciar’s many foes had discovered her secret identity
and come to call. She fought down another wave of anxiety, not for herself, but
for poor Jill, who was a prodigy with computers and electronics but had no
training or experience in combat whatsoever.
Amanda put her back to
the wall and inched toward the entrance to the living room, which was dimly lit
by city lights through the great bay windows across the eastern wall. Peeking
around, she scanned the semi-darkness until she saw a semi-silhouetted figure
squirming in a chair by the window, making tiny noises. Rounding the corner and
moving fast but stealthily along the living room wall, Amanda approached close
enough to tell that it was Jill, her shocking comb of magenta tresses hanging
over panicked eyes, her full lips covered with a wide swatch of white tape, the
same kind that bound her arms and legs tightly to the arms and legs of a dining
room chair. She was dressed in a Cramps t-shirt she usually used for sleeping,
now torn to reveal one creamy breast, her bosom rising and falling in terror.
Amanda noticed that the shirt had ridden up on her assistant’s thighs, exposing
her naked sex - Jill’s panties were missing.
Looking around quickly
and seeing no one else in the living room, Amanda took a deep breath and made
her way quickly across the carpet to her assistant. Just as she started to move,
however, Jill’s eyes grew wide and she began to struggle wildly, mewing against
the tape-gag, “Mmm MMMPH! Mmm MMMPH!”
Amanda had a split
second to translate the sounds as “Look out!” when a flying form hit her right
flank hard, driving a savage kick to her ribs and sending her careening toward
the massive sofa. Her reflexes took over and turned her carom into a tumble and
spring that vaulted her over the sofa and onto the big marble coffee table in
the center of the room, where she landed in a fighting stance facing her
unknown assailant. Said assailant did not give her a good look but was a dark
blur aiming a flying kick at her midsection that failed to connect as Amanda
launched herself to the side in a cartwheel over a reading chair. Now she could
see the dark form pinwheeling toward her, long dark
hair flowing behind the spin. A woman? Amanda
puzzled as she threw up a forearm to block her opponent’s spinning backfist and responded with three quick right jabs to her
foe’s solar plexus. One connected and she heard a soft “oof!”
But now the two combatants were in close quarters trading punches and kicks
with blinding speed and equal skill - only one blow in five actually connected
as they blocked with forearms and knees. Jill stopped struggling in her bonds
to stare wildly at this battle between cobra and mongoose, like some
Amanda traded blows
with the intruder, sweat pouring down her athletic form, still trying to
register her identity, until she threw a punch that her foe sidestepped,
trapping Amanda’s arm painfully under hers, drawing the heroine in until their
bodies were pressed together like lovers’. The black-haired girl suddenly
leaned forward and covered Amanda’s mouth with her own, claiming victory with a
deep, savage kiss that Amanda could feel all the way down to her crotch. The crimefighter stopped struggling, her surprised gasp turning
into a heartfelt moan that mingled with her assailant’s throaty purr as they
melted into each other, groping and clutching each other. Amanda felt her
panties become soaked and knew that the other girl was in the same condition.
She pulled back slightly and murmured softly against her opponent’s lips, “Val,
you cunt.”
As Amanda reached
behind her to turn on a reading lamp, the other girl pulled away, panting and
chuckling softly, brushing her long, straight black hair away from her sensual
Asian features. She was clad in a skintight midnight-blue Lycra catsuit tucked into knee-high black boots, all of which
accentuated a trim, limber body that nonetheless had all the right erotic
curves. “You need a new security system, Amanda,” she grinned. “I could have
done some serious living on your jewelry alone.”
“Not for long.” Amanda
breathed, raising an eyebrow. “I’d know exactly who did it - the most brazen
bitch I could think of - and I’d find you wherever you went.”
“Good luck on that,
sweetheart. Not even Justiciar can find me when I
don’t want to be found.” The other woman slid into a chair, draping one long
leg over the plush arm. “Not that I ever mind being found by her.”
Amanda opened her
mouth to respond but was interrupted by an emphatic “MMMMPPPH!” Both women
turned to Jill, momentarily forgotten but obviously most eager to be released
from her tape-bonds.
“Oh, honey, I’m so
sorry,” Amanda moved to Jill’s side quickly. “Val, why the hell did you do
this?”
The Asian girl
shrugged, “I had no idea you had company when I broke in, and she was awfully
hot to call the police. It was either tie her up or snap her neck.”
Amanda looked into her
assistant’s eyes. “This’ll sting. Ready?” Amanda quickly ripped the tape away
from Jill’s face and the girl gave a high muffled yelp. Amanda then reached in
and pulled the missing panties from between Jill’s teeth in a sodden wad.
Jill worked her aching
jaw and licked her lips, glaring at the intruder. “You bitch!” she
croaked. Val just grinned a cat-grin at the fuming
girl and blew her a kiss.
Amanda rolled her eyes
and held out a hand to Val. “Knife, please.” Val’s hand was a sudden blur and
Jill screamed as a silver shape flew at Amanda’s head. Amanda deftly snatched
the throwing blade out of the air and set to work on the tape binding her friend
to the chair. “I suppose introductions are in order. Val, this is my assistant,
Jill Arkwright, whom I would like you to treat with
respect in the future. Jill, the rude lady who tied you up is Valerie Sing. Val
and I learned combat from the same sensei, and I trust her, as I do you,
with my secrets.”
Jill lifted her freed
arms and began rubbing her sore wrists, still glaring at Val desultorily. “How
come you never told me about her?
Val waved her hand
dismissively. “Little girl, you don’t want to know about me.”
Amanda knelt and began
to cut Jill’s knees and ankles free. “She means it. Val works for a certain
agency of the
“- which is so classified
that if she even mentioned its initials she’d have to kill me, right?” Jill smirked.
“Not necessarily, but
the lobotomy scars would really spoil your good looks." Val finished with
a perfectly serious expression. “Suffice to say that I’m in much the same
business as Amanda, only without the nifty outfit.”
“Or the code against
taking a life,” Amanda murmured tightly. The final tape-bond cut, she rose and
helped Jill to her feet. “Will you be okay, honey?”
Jill nodded, casting
one last glare at Valerie Sing. “I’m going to wash up and change, then I’ll put
on coffee for you and your guest.”
She padded out of the
room, clutching her t-shirt to cover her exposed breast. Val watched her go,
smiling. “She’s very cute, Amanda. If you’d taken much longer to get home, who
knows how you might have found us?”
* * *
Still
blind. Still gagged, only now by a large rubber ball strapped into her
mouth. Still bound, only now on tiptoe, arms above her head, wrists cuffed and
hooked onto something, legs strapped together at ankles, knees, and thighs. Liz
mewed helplessly as the woman - Hera, the monster had
called her, like the queen of the Greek gods - ran a gloved hand slowly over
her nude body, now caressing the underside of her left breast, now slapping it
hard. The terrified girl flinched and trembled every time the hand pulled back.
“Poor
Liz shook her head as
much as her raised arms would allow. It was no consolation whatsoever. She knew
full well that these…people…who had kidnapped her would never simply let
her go. Her only hope was Justiciar, and if this
entire thing was a trap for her, then… Liz Baxter began to sob again into her
blindfold and gag.
“Oh please,” Hera’s voice became cold, bitter. “Blubbering again? Is
this the so-called dignity of the upper class? You rich little bitches are all
alike…folding like paper cups at the first sign of adversity. Life, little
girl, is about grace under pressure, and if you were never taught that in
between cotillions and riding lessons, then it’s high time you learned. Beginning now.”
Liz heard a familiar
swishing of air that she could not place momentarily, then her mind identified
the sound from a dozen show jumps, and she screamed into the ball-gag just as the
riding crop CRACKed across the backs of her
thighs, sending fire throughout her entire body.
* * *
“Enough, Val.” Amanda sat in a chair opposite Valerie,
crossing her long legs and training her steel-grey eyes on the other woman.
“This isn’t a pleasure call, is it? You’re working.”
Valerie sighed. “I’m always working, but you’re right. I’m in New Rivendell on official
business and while I don’t usually need help, I know better than to go stomping
on your turf without letting you know I’m here and hunting.”
“I appreciate that,” Amanda nodded. “So what are you looking for - or can I
ask?”
“You can ask, and I can tell you what I know,” Valerie said, swinging the leg
draped over the arm of the chair. “Five days ago there was an explosion at a
top-secret government research facility not far from here - and no, I can’t
tell you where it is. What I can tell you is that this facility was apparently
involved in some form of biomedical research with human subjects.”
Amanda bristled at this last piece of information, remembering her ordeal at
the hands of Doctor Bizarre…strapped naked and spread-eagled to his vicious Torgasm device… her body straining and bucking as waves of
pleasure and agony threatened to rip her apart.
Val noted her friend’s grim expression. “These were voluntary subjects, mostly
convicts who signed up for the chance to become lab rats rather than jailbirds.
In any case, Defense Department investigators are busy trying to find the cause
of the explosion, but it’s pretty clear that it was meant to cover an escape.
Three of the lab rats are currently at large and apparently in possession of
several disks’ worth of data vital to the project, whatever the project is. I
don’t ask, they don’t tell. My job is to find the convicts and reel ‘em in, along with the disks.”
“And the trail led you to New Rivendell?” Amanda
frowned.
Valerie nodded. “My superiors sent me right here. Of course I never object to a
trip to this city, especially with its indigenous erotic superheroine
population.” She grinned and licked her full lips, jade-green
eyes flashing.
If Amanda noticed she gave no indication, her sharp mind processing this
information and not liking the sudden suspicion growing in her gut. She looked
at the agent, mouth set. “Do these convicts have names?”
Valerie unfolded herself from the chair and strode to a corner of the room,
where a double shoulder holster bearing twin Glock
autos lay atop a black leather biker jacket on the floor. She bent over, fished
a small black box from an inner pocket of the jacket, and brought it back,
sitting down and opening it to reveal a sleek PDA. She tapped a password in,
then a couple more buttons. “And the winners are… Vera Pozner,
two counts of Murder Two - don’t know her - Jane Kozlowski, a.k.a. “Calamity
Jane” - her I know, busted her myself during a little cocaine shipping
party I attended with the D.E.A. three years ago - crazy bitch thinks she’s a
cowgirl -“
“And the third?” Amanda snapped.
Valerie glanced at Amanda for a beat, then read.
“Third jailbird’s name is - get this name -- Hera Domitian.”
Amanda’s body felt suddenly cold as her gut feeling was confirmed. Justiciar’s worst arch-nemesis was on the street again.
“Hey, Amanda? Are you okay?” Valerie stared at her
friend.
Amanda blinked, eyes hard. “Yes, your escaped convicts
are in New Rivendell, and I’ve got a pretty good idea
where - and why.”
“Do tell.”
Amanda’s muscles bunched and she resisted the urge to jump up and head straight
for her uniform closet, to leap out into the night in search of Hera Domitian to rip her heart
out. She spoke evenly, jaw tight. “That third one, Hera,
has been the biggest thorn in Justiciar’s side since
I began fighting crime. Think of the most vicious racket you can imagine and
you’ll find Hera in it - drugs, gambling, white slavery - anything that preys on human weakness. She’s
insanely wealthy, insanely evil - hell, she’s just insane.”
Jill, now in jeans and a tanktop, brought a tray of
coffee and accessories and set them down between the two women. She glanced at
Amanda and murmured, “Elizabeth Baxter.”
Amanda nodded grimly as Valerie looked at the two of them. “
“Elizabeth Page Baxter,” Amanda replied. “One of my oldest
and dearest friends. She was abducted on the street in front of her home
three days ago, no ransom demand, no known political
motive. I was wondering who might do something like this, and the only person I
could think of was safely behind bars - or so I thought.”
“And upon busting out of stir this Domitian woman
would hit town and snatch a society girl first thing?” Valerie said
skeptically.
Amanda nodded again. “Hera Domitian
began her adult life as an exotic dancer in Klawtown,
the absolute pits of New Rivendell. Along the way she
found that her ambition and disposition suited her well as a professional
dominatrix in the S & M parlors along
Valerie interrupted. “So why have I never heard of her? I’ve heard of Grazelle, but I thought he was never married.”
“Grazelle couldn’t very well reveal to his board of
directors that he had married a woman who made him bark like a dog and beg to be
whipped.” Amanda sipped her coffee. “It was a secret marriage, a very hushed-up
police investigation and disposal of the body, and the sale was reported as
simply a division of assets upon his retirement from the company.”
“But you know for a fact that Miss Hurt-me Hurt-me killed him?”
“She bragged about it while she…” Amanda stopped, the memory of her helpless bound body thrashing at
the end of a winch line, suspended over a pit of rabid Rottweilers
and lowering… She shook it off. “Hera confessed to
the murder, yes. And there’s no doubt she kidnapped Liz Baxter to let me know
she was in town. No matter how much money Hera
acquires, she can never forget her humble beginnings, so her favorite pastime
is to snatch the daughters of the upper class and torture them - profoundly.
Actually, that’s her second favorite pastime. Her first is me.”
“I see,” Valerie bit into a biscotti thoughtfully. “So
you want to find this Baxter girl and I want to find these escaped test
subjects, and our paths cross here.” She grinned. “Damn, but I love kismet.”
“I’m afraid I’d rather play with you under happier circumstances, Val,” Amanda
said, standing and turning to her assistant. “Jill, access the Domitian file and all known aliases. Find out if there are
any records of a sharp increase in power usage on any of her properties.”
Jill hopped up obediently and hurried toward the secret elevator to the Haven
and her computer nest. Valerie looked at her friend, deep into those iron-grey
eyes, and asked, “Justiciar?”
Amanda nodded. “I’m suiting up.”
“Mmmmm. I can hardly wait.”
To be
continued…