by Brian Moon
Chapter 7: Enter Maiden Justice.
This was supposed to be a simple request. Jerry, Daryl, and Robert hadn’t had to actually request anything from anyone in a long time, as a matter of fact they had become, friendly with most of their… clients. They simply would walk into the businesses, wait politely if the person they needed to see was busy. They did their best to maintain a regular schedule so the person could almost plan on them being there at a certain time. They would normally sit and have coffee, discuss the sports events of the day and so on. They would collect Southern United’s share of the profits for that month and then move on. Today they did need something form Mr. McMillan, the head of Paragon Electric. It would actually benefit everyone in the Paragon Heights and Steel Canyon areas of the city. So Jerry didn’t see this as being a particular problem and yet here they were.
“…Look Matthew, it’s not like we’re asking you to pay for all of this, now are we? This is a legitimate contract to do work for Southern United. We could just say do it and let it come out of your pockets, but they want to be fair about it.” Jerry’s voice was cold but calm. It never did any good to start yelling. “All we need is for you to replace those power lines with something heavier…”
“I can’t do that… sure it’ll benefit you, but that would leave Founders Falls struggling for power. They’ll have continuous brown outs until they get those new generators on line. Besides I can’t just do work on the city’s lines without city counsel approving it.”
“What are you worried about? It’s not like there is anything important in that part of town. So those snobs will have to learn to be considerate of their neighbors for the first time in their highbrow lives. It’ll do them good to have to wrap blankets around themselves and hug their family. Give them a taste of what the rest of the world is living with.”
“I just can’t do it, I’m sorry.” Matthew McMillan was one of the fortunate business owners to still be operating. His company had needed assistance to survive, and when Southern United offered him help with new contracts he had signed up. At the time he hadn’t really realized what his agreement actually meant, but he learned soon enough. The money was good and there had only been the one demand and since then he had been left alone to run his company. But he still didn’t like that he had to break the law, even just once. He was willing to pay Southern United their share of the profits and for the most part was happy with the arrangement, that is until today’s request.
Jerry sighed deeply, this was already taking longer than it should and he had a tee time to make over at the country club. “… so am I… boys please convince Mr. McMillan that helping us is in his mistress’s best interest.”
“My what? What do you mean my mistress? I’m a married man…” Matthew started to argue. Jerry looked around the small office and noted nothing special about it, actually it looked more like a closet. The desk had two chairs, one on either side. A bookshelf stood on one wall, filled with technical binders while the other wall was buried behind filing cabinets. Jerry went to look at the picture on the wall of Matthew and his family. Why would any man need a mistress when he had that hot dame at home was beyond him. He pointed to the portrait.
“This Mr McMillan is not the woman you have been seen with in that hotel in Newport. I seem to recall she was a blond. Your wife doesn’t look like a blond, unless she changed its color? Careful of the face gentlemen… it’s hard to conceal that type of injury.” He said absent-mindedly. His mind turned to his golf swing as he tuned out the man’s begging and pleading as Daryl and Robert took off their jackets and approached him.
“Why doesn’t he just say he’ll do the contract?” Jerry thought to himself.
“Fingers?” Daryl asked.
“No more than two you must, but on the same hand this time.” Jerry went back to thinking how he was going to approach hole number ten this time, a long par 3 that had a bend to it. He tried to remember what the coarse layout looked like, to think if he could cut the curve out with a direct shot…
The office door smashed opened and before Jerry could think, he was grabbed by the lapels of his jacket and thrown into the warehouse beyond. He landed with a crunch knocking the air out of him. He looked into the open doorway but could only see scattered shadows moving on the wall and ceiling.
“Get the bimbo!” Daryl yelled. This was followed by a large crashing noise.
Jerry rolled over getting to his feet and rushed back into the battle. His eyes registered what he saw, but didn’t believe what he was seeing. A woman with long blond hair had just hit Bobby hard enough to lift his feet off the ground while Daryl lay in a pile of binders and broken wooden shelving. Jerry charged the woman. He threw a punch to her stomach, thinking to knock the wind out of her, but his fist never connected. She had caught his fist in her hand as easily as if she had caught a ball of yarn. The woman was shorter than he was and stood dressed in a white dress, like from one of those roman times movies. Around her waist gathering the dress together was a short metal girdle that looked like it was made of gold. It was intricately etched and seemed to glow in the dim light of the office. Jerry found himself in the air again, only this time he crashed into some of the warehouse shelving. Merchandise and wood flew in all directions as Jerry’s body made its way to the floor. He laid there in pain and couldn’t get back up.
Jerry heard the soft footsteps approaching but was unable to do more than open his eyes. A delicate sandal covered foot pressed on his chest. Jerry followed the sandal’s gold lacing that ran up the woman’s leg to the dress, the golden girdle thing that glowed even brighter now. His eyes continued up to the long blond hair cascading over the woman’s shoulders and chest to the red lips and then the golden mask that only revealed piercing ice blue eyes.
“Get this straight and tell your boss, who ever that may be… that you are not welcome in my part of town. If you come here again it will not be the police you’ll have to deal with… you’ll be dealing with me and I will not be happy to see you again.” As she said this she applied more pressure to Jerry’s chest to the point he thought ribs would start breaking. She held her foot there making sure he understood and then she stepped off of him. As he took a deep breath of air, another hammer blow from her other foot knocked the air back out of him. As he gasped for more air she was now kneeling beside him, pulling him up to meet her gaze by his jacket.
“Oh by the way… my name isn’t bimbo… you can call me Maiden Justice. You have five minutes to get out of here.” With that she let go of his jacket and his head hit the concrete again. With his blurred vision he watched her stand up and in a swirl of white robes she walked out of his line of sight.
