Cost of Justice

Author's Note: Hey everyone here is a story about superheroes, tech, and a deal. All characters in this story are above the age of 18. Please enjoy and leave some constructive criticism if you have it

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Lois Benson looked at the notes that adorned her desk when the door suddenly opened. "Come in Mitch," she said knowing the man in front of her didn't need an invitation. The cop strolled in and took a seat in front of the woman, waiting patiently for her to look up. To say that Officer Mitch Rumsen looked like shit would be an understatement. He had large bags under his eyes and the jitters as if the only thing keeping him going were several gallons of coffee. "Mitch, it's 1:35 in the morning, why are you hear?" Lois asked with equal amounts of concern and annoyance.

"Couldn't sleep," he whispered, 'Was worried about the case." Lois sighed and pushed the papers to the side so she could give the man enough attention.

"What about it, we're getting it handled," she said. Her baby blue eyes peered through the man. She wanted to walk the line of being just polite enough, but also letting him know this wouldn't be a fun conversation.

"Yeah, I heard," Mitch countered, his frustration clearly apparent. "Is it true you're cutting a deal?"

Lois' response was curt but professional, "Yes. I used what I had. We got him to flip. Consider it a win."

Mitch scowled at hearing that, "A win? A fucking win Lois? You're letting a monster back on the street. He's a fucking killer. He fucking ordered hits on people, good people...our people!" Lois understood the rage coming from the young officer. At one point she was like him, idealistic and thinking that she could just get her way through force.

"Listen I get your frustration, but the evidence says he didn't do it. There's no way Pedro could've been the killer, it's humanely impossible," Lois said. She pinched the bridge of her nose; her red-painted fingernails caught the light from her office lights.

Mitch simply looked at her, the disappointment evident on his face. "Yeah not for humans, but we both know Pedro is one of them." The man spat out the words as if he was wrestling with some obvious conclusion that Lois overlooked.

"You think Pedro has superpowers?" Lois asked. "You read way too many comics, Mitch. Just take the win. We'll send Pedro to jail for the things we can prove."

Mitch stood up abruptly and glared at the woman. Lois returned the gaze, it wasn't the first time in her career that she had gotten it, and it wouldn't be the last. Mitch eventually dropped it, moving towards the door stopping for a small moment. "You know what, this isn't a win. A win will be when the fucking vigilante rips that guy apart," he said before storming out of the office. Lois sat in the quiet of the early morning mulling over the man's words. Five minutes passed, then 10, and eventually, Lois lost count before the ticking of the clock started to grind against her psyche. When she couldn't take anymore she stood up and faced the window. The city for once looked peaceful and quiet. The serenity of the night was something that she wanted to bottle up.

"Fuck," she screamed as she shot her fist through the wall. The concrete crumbled under her force just like paper with nothing. She pulled back and watched more chunks of rock fall onto the ground. Lois looked with indifference at the hole, choosing to make a mental note to spackle over it when she had a chance. Beads of sweat spotted her forehead causing a few strands of hair to stick to her. She felt her heart rate spike up as she started off into space. "I gotta handle this," she murmured as she walked towards the office closet. Swinging the doors open she grabbed her leather jacket and wrapped it around herself as she strolled out. Her lone footsteps were the only noise in the large set of offices. Eventually, she made her way to the elevator and descended to where her car was waiting for her. Climbing in and starting it, she set off on the memorized path toward her home.

As the highway hypnosis took over, Lois couldn't get the look of rage that adorned Mitch's face. In her gut, she knew he was right. Pedro was a piece of shit who deserved to be locked underneath the jail, or buried with his scumbag associates. She could've ensured that if she didn't get distracted. Pulling up to a stop light she twisted her hands as her mind kept pulling her back to just a few nights ago. Pedro was in front of her, a broken man whose tricks were quickly running out. God if she had been faster, or didn't get distracted by that guy who shot her she could've had him. But no, instead he ran and escaped only to be picked up by some fucking rookie patrolman who got lucky. Now she had to face him again, but this time professionally. She had to cut him a deal where he would be put in protection, given three square meals, and all the time to snitch on his associates. Her bosses made her make the deal and she hated it, but what did she know? She was just the lowly assistant ADA. The beat cop who decided to try and swim in the big leagues. Her bosses didn't care about a hitman like Pedro when they knew they could get a kingpin like Midas. Lois scoffed as she turned into the suburban development. Her home came into view and she pulled into the garage turning her car off and closing it. She sat for a moment taking a breath before she exited the vehicle, leaving her purse.

Sitting at the back of the garage was a large industrial cabinet that seemed out of place for the residential home. Lois walked across the expanse until she was in front of it, the combo lock she kept on it was firmly between her fingers. "Five, one, nine, zero," she whispered to herself before tugging against the lock and tossing it onto a nearby table. Lois gripped the doors and ripped them open revealing a set of garden tools held against a wall by a series of metal hooks and bands set against a perforated backdrop. Reaching in she hooked her fingers against one of the holes and pulled it down. The squeaky sound screamed a need for lubrication and hurt her ears. She shrugged off the annoyance while she guided the false wall down toward the bottom of the cabinet. Now revealed to only her was a mannequin clad in an all-black outfit that was better fit for something out of a spy thriller. The long-sleeved shirt and black cargo pants were made out of the same Teflon-like fabric, a security measure from her first few times out. The arms of the mannequin led to gloves that had studded knuckles, something to aid her already impressive punch.

The boots sat at the bottom of the cabinet in a small trunk. When Lois picked them up she felt the impressive weight of the steel toe-tipped footwear. Next to the boots within the trunk was a utility belt. It wasn't glamorous but functional, and that was all she needed. She had rope a hook, a collapsible baton that hit much harder than it looked, and several smaller gadgets she scraped together. The final piece of the outfit was a helmet. It was smaller and thinner than a normal motorcycle helmet but at least five times as strong as the standard consumer ones. She had to call in more than a few favors to get this handy piece of tech. She stripped out of her blouse and slacks, leaving her clad in only a lacey blue bra and thong. Even in the dingy mirror she kept in the cabinet she noticed her body. At her age, she never looked or felt better, even with the bruises from the shotgun blast and knife scars.

She was an athlete back in her prime; basketball, wrestling, gymnastics, and track. All of it was her domain and her body grew to reflect that. Toned muscle with large arms and an iron-clad stomach gave way to a soft paunch, wide hips, and large breasts. Her striking blonde hair and intense blue eyes gave her the image of some Nordic war goddess. It was a true shame she hid it behind the heavy armor of her costume. It was for her own good though, she needed it considering what she was going against. She switched into the gear, not caring about the extra bulk, and walked out the back door.

Her backyard was bare all for a small shed. Walking to it she tore the doors open and revealed a motorcycle. A custom-outfitted chopper with enough bells and whistles to get her anywhere she needed to go...and fast. She grabbed the leather motorcycle jacket off of the hooks and threw it on. Mounting the bike she pressed a button that caused the back of the shed to swing open revealing the glaring dark of the woods. She started the ignition and the advanced tech motor came on with little more than a hum, but she felt the vibration between her legs. What did Mark used to say? "When you turn a bike on, it should return the favor?" Her helmet activated along with the bike, and the visual sensors activated the heads-up display. The darkness of the woods was suddenly illuminated as she took off back toward the city.

She cleared her head while she killed the few lights on the bike. She was a shadow stalking the streets of the city looking for her prey. Leaning towards the right she pulled the bike down an alleyway that cut through the denser part of the city's core. There were several abandoned buildings, each more dilapidated than the last. Taking her left hand off the handlebar Lois tapped her helmet and it responded by going into its built-in X-ray mode. Like magic, the walls of the building disappeared and the vigilante was given access to the interior of these buildings. She saw the usual amount, huddled masses trying to stay warm, animals running around, and the usual street punks vandalizing. She swept her head from side to side, ignoring everything that wasn't the murderer Pedro. Making another quick series of turns she found herself in the southern portion of the group of buildings.

Here it seemed so much darker and colder than the other corners...the perfect hiding spot for a rat. She turned her head focusing on the buildings as she passed them, seeing the bare skeletons of the building. By the third building she saw a group of men, but this time she picked up what looked like guns on them. "Bingo," she whispered to herself as she guided her bike toward the opposite side. On her ride, she scoped out the rest of the building. She took a cautious approach, looking at the building trying to attain how many more goons were in there. The five-story building was fairly bare except for the top floor where it looked like the men were congregating. From the helmet count, there were 12 men inside with roughly 7 guns, and Lois could safely assume countless blades. Parking the bike Lois killed the engine and looked up.

In its dilapidated state, the building's walls had enough cracks and broken ledges to give her the perfect path upward. Dismounting from the bike Lois took a deep breath. Her chest rose against the tight body armor and she felt a surge of adrenaline charge through her veins. Her muscles swelled as she felt a familiar and welcoming tingle at the tip of her fingers. The padded kevlar and leather of her outfit tore away as her nails elongated before stiffening. Walking towards the steel and brick she plunged her newly formed claws into the wall and gave a small tug. When the wall didn't budge she reached overhead and plunged her other clawed set of fingers into the brick. With a firm grasp, she started to climb up pulling herself along the wall of the building in the dead of night. Any passerby would simply see a black blob held tight against the wall if they cared to look. Showing immense strength Lois hoisted herself up towards an open window on the merit of her upper body alone. "Just like Red Rock," she grinned as she placed a foot on a cracked ledge. She was just below the open window she had been targeting. Gripping the open ledge she pulled herself up, breaking the rest of the glass that was left. As she lept in she looked up, the darkness of the building melting away as her helmet's self-adjusting system switched to night mode.

The room wasn't anything spectacular, by the looks of it just an open-planned office. There were several desks and chairs with layers of dust and old on them. Lois looked and saw that the group of men she spotted earlier had split up. Seven of the men had left the original room and had spread out amongst the halls. From the looks of it, several had guns leaving the main room with less firepower. "No matter how smart criminals were, they were truly dumb," Lois thought. Moving quickly and efficiently she left the office space and turned right, choosing to avoid the majority of the roaming guards. She stuck to the wall and darkened spaces dropping low as she kicked up dust. If it wasn't for the automatic filter that was embedded in her helmet she was sure that she would be hacking by now. Diving out into the open she quickly pivoted and started running down a hallway. She was sure that the building had no real security system, a hallmark of the great decisions that the former heads of the company made.

Her sprint turned to a jog as she picked up the sound of two masculine voices talking. A predatory instinct filled her chest as she placed her back against the wall and started side-stepping slowly. The outfit was dark enough combined with the natural obscurity of the building that she knew two idiotic guards wouldn't catch her as long as she didn't make a dumb move. She sidestepped until she got to the end of her own segment of the hallway, and met another running parallel. Freezing in place she held her breath as two of the guards she saw earlier walked right past her. The smell of weed and liquor wafted off of them, giving Lois the confidence in her skills to take them down. Lois let them get a bit farther before she moved to the wall across from her and pinned her back. Peeking her head around she allowed the tech of the helmet to zoom in on the men.

The first guard a pudgy black man with cornrows in his head was laughing so hard that he choked, "Damn son, y'all gotta get me Pedro's lawyer. Maybe he could help me with these damn parking tickets."

The second guard, a taller Hispanic-looking man returned his partner's energy, "Yeah I'll give you the number as soon as homie helps me out with my damn baby mama. You know she told the fucking cops I hit her? Like damn bitch I didn't punch you, I just slapped ya a bit. Not my fault she slipped. She knows I love her though," Both men laughed as they stopped. Lois narrowed her eyes behind the dark protective visor, she knew both men. The first was a career punk who seemed to be making a jump to the big time. The second prick was on her personal list. He was an abuser who thought running with Pedro made him untouchable. She would show him.

"Aye man hol' up, I gotta take a piss," the first said causing the pair to turn back towards Lois' hiding spot. The pudgy man waddled his way back towards the turn, and Lois' mind instantly ran through her options. She knew a fight was unavoidable. She could easily hide but the two would have to be dumber than even she would give them credit for not to notice her this close. Seeing no other way she pinned herself against the wall, coiling so she could strike. As the first of the two thugs rounded the corner Lois let him pass her. He definitely smelled like a dispensary. As the man got in line with her he turned his head seeing the odd shape of the woman's frame, only for him to be met with her covered palm. Her grip was like an iron vise as her hands spread over his face, her knife-like talons dug into his cheeks as she used her offhand to slash at his throat. Her thin fingers dug through the skin like a hot knife through butter. The man's eyes spread wide as the light of life left them. Lois released her grip on his face, but was too slow to catch the body before it hit the ground with a dull "thud".

"Shit," she cursed as she realized his partner was rushing towards him with unsteady footsteps.

"Aye nigga what the fu-" the man said while seeing a dead body and an armor-clad vigilante standing where his partner should've been. "Fuck fuck the vigilante," he shouted as he raised up the rifle he had been carrying. The weapon glowed with a sickening red light as it warmed up, giving Lois a reason to be surprised. "Fucking die!" shouted the man as he pulled the trigger. Before Lois had a chance to react the weapon fired a read streak towards her and dinged her in the shoulder. Even with the armor the force knocked her off balance and burned like she had gotten hit with a hot cattle prod. A whirring sound tore Lois away from the thought of nursing her hot shoulder. The man had the gun raised up and the red color was rapidly intensifying. Throwing caution to the wind Lois sprung forward dropping her weight as she attack his lower body. She was still half a step too slow when a second streak of red hit her in the same shoulder but this time the back. It traveled down her back tearing through parts of her costume. Seething in pain she continued with her tackle, sweeping the man to the ground. With great ruthlessness, she mounted the man. She felt him try to throw her off by thrusting up, but Lois had planted all her weight onto the man, hooking her heels into his flailing legs.

"Get off me man," the man yelled while trying to point the gun at her for a third time. This time Lois was prepared. She grabbed the barrel feeling the intense searing heat as it warmed up again. The whirring sound rang in her ears as she forced the barrel up toward the ceiling. As Lois tried wrenching it from the man's grasp he held it tight with both hands leaving his face open. With a sense of righteous indignation at what his victim went through she allowed her hardened claws to come down with the force of an executioner's guillotine. With fury, the claws tore through the man's face. Several bones snapped as the struggle ended, but the laser still fired. The heat surged and burned part of the glove while spackle rained down on the woman. She panted as she proceeded to drive her fist into the dead man's face. She was blinded by rage as she felt the need to unleash every bit of her power onto the man. Fist after fist cracked bone, deflating the skull until it looked like it had been through a car crash. The falling of the spackle echoed through the hall as she panted her chest and shoulders rising with each inhale. "Fucking scumbag," she growled as she started to stand. Looking around she saw the mess that her battle had left. She needed to move fast.

Grabbing the high-powered rifle she used the shoulder strap to attach it to her body. She clicked the helmet and watched as the X-ray mode caught sight of an empty corridor. Turning her head back toward where the duo had come from she saw a few of the men who were congregating had spread out. She moved fast as she started trotting towards the men. As she did the strap of the gun and its weight dug into her shoulder. Each step caused her to hiss in pain. "Fuck," she growled as she stopped in front of a dingy grime-covered mirror. Her front bore a small singed burn wound. Several layers of the armor were torn away around the impact point. Rolling her left shoulder toward the mirror she craned her neck to inspect the rest of the damage. A streak of seared red flesh was exposed. The wound looked partially cauterized but still an angry red. No wonder the strap hurt with every step. Scowling she looked down at the gun and then her offhand. There the padding of her glove was almost completely burned away. The former cop within Lois' mind told her that she should keep on pursuing the criminal, that this was her chance. The smart part of her brain disagreed and she could only think of regrouping. Driving her fist into the mirror she resisted the urge to scream. Instead, she retraced her steps back towards her bike.