Justice: A Billionaire Romance

by Lauren Landish

  "Is he on backup?" I asked, surprised and touched. Mark had done a patrol with Riley a few days before, but he wasn't an active fighter any longer. Sure, he was in pretty good shape, but he was fifty now. He didn't need this kind of life any longer.

  "He insisted," Sophie told me. "His comment to me was that there was no way in hell he wasn't going to give his baby girl her wedding. So if you get yourself killed, he might just dig you up, resuscitate you, and then kill you again."

  "What's he packing?" I asked. "He doesn't have a suit like mine."

  "That’s not going to stop him," Sophie said. "I checked in with him, he's at the strike base now, and he's loaded for bear. Both Glocks, and his SCAR-H chambered in 7.62."

  I whistled. With the rise of more modern rounds and pistols like what I carried, warriors like Mark who’d learned on so-called 'dumb rifles' had faced a new generation of threats. On the surface, his skills were out of date. After all, any idiot with enough money could drop a couple of thousand on a high tech device like what I carried, and have something that could be recoilless and fire straight as a laser.

  But there was a disadvantage to my generation of weapons, our stuff was both fueled and hamstrung by technology. A magnetic pulse or even just forgetting to charge the damn thing could leave you with nothing more than a very expensive paperweight. Also, while I carried some weapons that could be heavy duty, the trend for over fifty years had been toward smaller and smaller rounds, which meant less penetration, less lethality at long distance.

  Mark didn't have any of those problems. I'd seen the man with his Glocks on the pistol range, and knew he could damn near out-shoot a laser guided pistol with just his instincts and his skills. Add to that the SCAR-H he carried on his back, and he was a one man walking destruction crew. Between the two of us, we'd probably be able to take on a platoon of Marines without an issue.

  "Well, let's make sure the only thing he has to do is drive home and give you a back rub," I replied with a chuckle. "Think we can do that?"

  "For sure. By the way, he's listening in, so watch things, okay?"

  "Understood. So no movie lines tonight?"

  "None that could be construed as being inappropriate to say to your parents," Sophie said with a laugh. I liked it when Sophie was on comms, she could blend humor with seriousness very easily with me. That, and her use of the term parent really was true with her, she was like a second mother to me.

  "Gotcha. Once more unto the breach then, dear friends."

  Sophie’s chuckle caused me to smile, and I proceeded with my investigation. After checking in with Riley and Andi, I finished up the first set of warehouses. I hadn't expected much there after the explosion Mark caused years ago. Almost nobody used the old sites anymore; they'd acquired an unlucky reputation. Each and every business that tried to move into the old Confederation warehouses at the airport seemed to run into business trouble. It wasn't even trouble caused by Dad and Mark, either. Just bad luck.

  I headed east, towards the area that I knew was more likely. Modern smugglers and drug runners didn't use a centralized warehousing system like the Confederation had, they just didn't have the power or influence any longer. However, they did still try to bring in as much of their stuff as they could by air, since it was faster and could be processed quicker.

  Things stayed boring for nearly an hour, with me checking first the normal warehouses, then doing a quick sweep of the FedEx warehouse. It didn't happen often, but some criminals liked to try and slip something in through the massive processing center, depending on an inside contact to get things out.

  I was just about to give up for the night, but there was one more set of buildings to check. They actually belonged to the Air National Guard, which is the main reason why I didn't want to go over there. Sure, I may be able to take on the military, but that didn’t mean I wanted to.

  Sighing, I talked with Sophie. "Hey Sophie, I'm going to check out the ANG buildings quickly, then head out. Whatever they're bringing in, it's either not tonight, or it's not coming in via air. You should talk with Mark, see if he wants us to check the rail or the trucking lines next."

  "Will do," she replied. "By the way, Mark told me that after tonight, the three of you are taking at least a few days off, until after the wedding. Riley can keep things under control until you two get back. Also, we'll talk to Barbara, she's flying in tomorrow too, remember."

  "I remember," I said with a laugh. "But Barb has never taken to this side of the family business. She's too much like Mom."

  "Which is a very good thing in my opinion," Sophie said. It was true, Mom — Tabby — is awesome. And nobody could ever say she lacks for guts. But Mom and Barbara both just don’t have the desire and personality to be willing to do what the rest of us did. I mean, I've seen Mom on business deals be absolutely ruthless, but at the same time she cries over a shivering puppy on TV. She's generous to a fault when it comes to personal pain and suffering, and could never deal with the hands-on application of violence.

  Barbara is the same way. When we were kids, she'd be the one who played with dolls and had been the girly-girl, and while I know that makes me sound sexist or something, I'm not trying to be. Any girl who went on to be as outgoing socially as Barb, can’t be called weak or less-than in any way. But, she also wasn't blood and guts like me and Riley, or even able to segregate her feminine side from her ruthless side like Andi.

  “Sophie, Barb's great, but you know that she's not for this stuff. Turn her loose on the computer or research side though, and she's a whiz."

  "She can still help Riley, you know," Sophie replied. "You guys didn't get those nicknames for no reason. The streets gave them to you."

  "Okay, point taken. But still . . . ”

  I shouldn't have been talking. I should have been paying more attention to my surroundings, but that's one of my weak points. The guy hit me from the side, knocking me to the ground and I rolled, getting to my knees. "Well, a playmate."

  "What's going on?” Sophie asked.

  "I have some new friends to play with," I said, looking as the man who knocked me down was joined by another. They were pretty average-sized, and the guy must have just caught me at the right off-balance point in order to knock me down the way he did. I grinned, and focused on my opponents.

  "Come on guys, two of you against one of me? You don't stand a chance," I said, pulling out a carryover from Dad's gear that I liked, the escrima stick. Instead of Dad's aluminum version, mine was a little more high tech, using polycarbonate and carbon fiber to make it as strong as steel but as light as a feather, and it was one of my favorite hand-to-hand weapons. Neither of these guys were carrying firearms from what I could see in the dim light, and they didn't have suits on that would give them my abilities either. Actually, they just looked like two somewhat athletic guys wearing cargo pants and t-shirts.

  "You gon' find out, hero boy," one of them said, his voice already panting. Seriously, they both sounded like they’d just gotten done running a four hundred meter sprint after about a thousand pushups. I was worried they'd have a heart attack instead of being able to fight me. "You gon' find out."

  The one on the left, who hadn't been talking, attacked, and I was surprised at how fast the guy moved. I mean, I've trained with Mark and Riley, who are both fast, but this guy was fast. I barely had the chance to get my stick around in front of me before the guy's right arm shot out in a punch, catching me in the chest.

  "Fuck!" I swore. That hurt. How in the blue hell does a guy with nothing but his bare fist hurt me through my suit? I'd taken nine millimeter pistol shots at relatively close range and barely felt them. What the hell was this?

  "Told you," the other one said, jumping in with his attack. Both of them were sloppy attackers, barely more than street thugs who could throw hands, but with the power and speed both of them were showing, I was stunned. They drove me back, out from between the buildings I'd been moving in and out onto a side flight line.

  I caught the f
irst guy, who hadn't said anything yet, as he threw a huge looping overhand right. Using my stick I turned, letting his own momentum throw him over my hip before falling to the pavement hard. He could have been stunned, but I didn't want to give him a chance, and nailed him in the top of the head with my stick. The stick was designed so that an actual killing blow is very difficult in one shot, but a knockout isn't. Still, the guy tried to get up, so I hit him again, this time in the back of the neck near the base of the skull, dropping him.

  I didn't know if he was knocked out or possibly killed, but I couldn't waste time checking. His partner attacked again, this time with a punch that I blocked, but a sharp flare of pain went through me as it did. Somehow, someway, my shoulder had just been dislocated. Groaning, I kicked out, playing dirty. Sure, it's not the most warrior-like of maneuvers, but everyone drops from a kick to the balls, especially when it's enhanced by my suit which would let me kick hundred yard field goals if I wanted.

  He dropped as well, and I staggered off. I heard more footsteps approaching from out of the darkness, and I decided discretion was the better part of valor. My chest hurt like hell, my left shoulder was on fire, and I didn't know what the hell was going on. So I did what I had to do, and ran.

  Sophie held her tongue until I was at least a little ways away. "Report."

  That's something about Sophie that I can appreciate. She'll joke and smile, allow a bit more of my personality than Mark or Dad does on coms, but when things are tense, she's all business. She'd heard at least some of what had gone down, and knew I was in trouble. "Two unarmed attackers, I disabled them both. Retreating, more coming, don't know how many."

  "Do you need backup?" She asked. I knew Mark would make his own decision, but I didn't want him there. Not with as fast as those guys moved.

  “No. I’ll need medical treatment when I get home."

  “What kind of injuries?"

  "Dislocated shoulder, maybe bruised some ribs," I said. Fire coursed through my chest, and I thought that perhaps I had a bit more than just some bruising to my ribs, but if I told Sophie or Mark over the line that I'd possibly fractured something, he'd be on the road before I could tell him not to. "I can ride."

  "We'll be ready when you get home."

  * * *

  One of the reasons that the gym portion of Mount Zion takes up so much space is that, in addition to the weight training equipment, martial arts equipment, and gymnastics equipment that each demand their own space, but a third of the building, not visible to anyone who might come by and be invited into the facility, was a condensed medical clinic. Sophie had continued with her medical training as the years went on, and had even gotten Mom to become a pretty decent ad-hoc assistant when shit really hit the fan. By the time I got back, steering my motorcycle half drunkenly due to the pain in my shoulder, the two of them had the clinic ready to go. Mom's eyes were filled with worry, but she was a lot more composed than she had been the first time she saw Dad with a bullet hole, at least according to her story.

  "Sweetie," Mom said before getting control of herself. "All right, let's get that suit off."

  I felt strange, letting my own mother help me off with my clothes. I hadn't needed Mom's help with my clothes since I was about four, but there was no way I could lift my arm up above my head to get my outfit off. Thankfully, the sleeves had zips that ran down the inside of the elbow for just this sort of incident. Mark planned for a lot of contingencies. After unzipping up my torso and along the underside of my arms, the front half peeled off while the back half sagged down, exposing me to the waist. "Glad I don't have a suit like Andi," I said, shivering in the air conditioned chill. "That one-piece body suit wouldn’t be good in a time like this."

  Mom and Sophie said nothing, easing me up against a diagnostic panel. Using a couple of blind drop businesses, MJT had acquired a lot of the same stuff used on the International Space Station and aboard US Navy aircraft carriers. While Sophie couldn't do an MRI in the space we had, she could do a lot. "Hold still," she said, going over across the room. "Let's take a look inside."

  The system Sophie used wasn't X-rays, I knew that much, but other than that, I'm pretty much clueless. I'm trained in field medical techniques, but I let the details on the medicine go to those who were interested in it. In my opinion, I thought that Riley was the one most likely to follow in his mother's footsteps. In five seconds, a complete body scan of my upper body appeared on screen. "Jesus."

  "What?" I asked, stepping away from the bed. I wasn't bleeding, and moving wasn't making the pain in my shoulder any worse. "What do you see?"

  Mom looked up at me from the screen she and Sophie were studying, concern back in her eyes. "On the bed," she said, stepping around. "You've got some fractures."

  "No," Sophie said, holding up her hand. "Let's get that shoulder back into place first, and then we can worry about the fractures. It'll be easier if he's sitting up."

  I let Mom help me sit down, and Sophie came over, taking my arm in her hands. "This is going to hurt."

  She pulled, and before I passed out, I heard a satisfying thunk. Still, the pain was enough that I embraced the darkness, and let it wash over me for a while.

  Chapter Eleven

  Riley

  I helped Andi out mostly by following behind her, making sure things were tidied up. "Give me your sidearms," I said as we came in. "I can store them in the Bell Tower for the night."

  Andi stopped, startled. She nodded, and unsnapped her weapons from their hard-points on her costume. Peeling off her cowl, she ran through the house to the gym and medical facility. I went upstairs to the Bell Tower, making sure to put things away.

  I was just finishing my breakdown of my sidearm when Dad came in, his face tight. "How's Carter?" I asked, trying to put my fears aside. "Andi's with him?"

  "She is," Dad said, popping the clip on his Glock and clearing the weapon. He put it away, then put his hands on the table. "What the hell happened?"

  "I don't know, Dad," I said, finishing my last weapon. I went over to the rack and peeled off my costume, plugging it into the computer port that would do a diagnostic on the systems as well as recharge it. "Didn't Carter say anything?"

  He shook his head. "He passed out when Sophie put his shoulder back into socket, and she's kept him lightly sedated since. Riley, he's got two broken ribs and massive bruising over his entire chest. How the hell does that happen with those suits you guys wear? They're designed to take a sledge hammer blow without a second glance."

  I shook my head. "We'll find out when Carter wakes up. Did you download his cowl's camera feed yet?"

  Dad shook his head. "Tabby is doing that now. Riley, did you see anything out there that can give us a lead on this?"

  I thought about it, then shrugged. "Maybe. The guys Andi and I were listening to, they seemed to know about the attack on Carter. They also said something about this new drug that our mysterious Mr. Clean is bringing in, making you feel like Superman. Perhaps the Eighty-Eights know some more? I can go out and ring some bells if you want."

  Dad shook his head. "Not until we know more about what the hell this is. Riley . . . ” Dad said before falling silent. He came over and hugged me, and I knew what he wanted to say without him needing the words. Former hitman, vigilante, and all-around-badass, he was still a concerned husband and father. He patted me on the back and cleared his throat. "All right, let's go make sure your sister is okay."

  We found Andi still in the remnants of her costume, sitting next to Carter in the medical bay bed. Mom had completed her scans, and was preparing an injection. "How's he looking?"

  Mom looked up, while Andi seemed to not hear. She was holding Carter's left hand, her eyes filled with concern. "He's busted up pretty bad, but the suit took most of the pounding," Mom said, pointing to the pile on the floor. "I'm glad that the video recording system is stored in the cowl and not in the main suit itself. The suit's trash now."

  I whistled between my teeth. With a price tag of nearly a
hundred thousand dollars each, our base suits were adapted from plans that had been an experimental design for the Navy SEALs, then customized for us. We had backups, but only one each. "Damn. And Carter?"

  "The shoulder will heal up easily enough, but those ribs are going to put him out of action for a month at least," Mom said. "Tabby's going to have the video feed in a few minutes. Mark, will you and Riley take care of that?"

  I understood what she wanted, to spare Andi the pain of watching from Carter's beating from his own perspective. But eventually Andi would have to see, in order to understand. "All right, I'll handle it," I said. "But Andi, you need to see it when you can."

  Andi finally looked up at me from her seat and nodded absently. "Right . . . ”

  Carter stirred on the table, blinking. "Hey," he said, giving Andi's hand a squeeze. "There you are."

  I hadn't realized until then that Andi hadn't said anything since coming in the medical bay. She stood up, her eyes filled with concern. "Carter."

  "Hey Big Bro," I said, coming over. "How're you doing?"

  "Meh, Mark's kicked my ass worse than that," he said in a soft voice. "Hey Mark."

  Dad chuckled and put his hands on Andi's shoulders. "I don't think I've hit you that hard before."

  "Andi's hit me harder than this when she's been pissed off at me," Carter said with a laugh. He grimaced and shook his head. "No jokes for a while though."

  "Well, I'll take advantage of that," I joked, causing Andi to glare at me while Carter smiled. "Come on, you know I'm just kidding."

  "It's okay Andi," Carter said, seeing her face. "He’s allowed to get a few of those in while he can.”

  "I'm just getting the last of those in before you legally become family," I said. Carter shook his head, and I looked at him. "What?"

  "Wedding's delayed," Carter said, looking at Andi and then the rest of us. "Think the church will be pissed off?"