Free Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer by Ian Thomas Healy

catch up with you later. Cover for me?”
    “Of course.”
    Javier heeled over and headed back inland, in the general direction of his bachelor pad.
    Tommy’s radio beeped. He pulled it from his belt. “Tornado,” he said.
    “ Tommy, it’s Bobby. I can’t reach Javier . ”
    “He had to head back to his place. For repairs.”
    “ Ah ,” said Bobby in a voice that implied he knew Tommy was lying. “ Anyway, there’s a potential jumper on the GWB. Are you close enough to intervene? ”
    Tommy turned to look toward the George Washington Bridge. He could see flashing lights on the distant deck. “Affirmative. I’m on my way.”
    He summoned up gale-force winds to carry him over the water at blistering speed, his eyes locked on a white speck where none should be—against one of the towers. As he barreled onward, the speck resolved itself into a young woman who perched on a narrow ledge just out of reach of the NYPD officers trying to reach her. Tommy poured on the speed because he could see the woman was distressed. As he approached, she either slipped or jumped.
    He had only moments to react. He created a powerful updraft beneath the tumbling woman. The swirling air mass sucked up water from the Hudson into a powerful miniature waterspout that slowed her fall. Without hesitation, Tommy dove into the spinning vortex and gathered up the shrieking woman in his arms. Air buoyed them both to safety on the far bank. Tommy pushed his sopping hair out of his face. They were both drenched from his waterspout.
    “Are you all right?” He took the woman by her shaking shoulders as sobs racked her. She collapsed into him and bawled like a child. He felt awkward but held her as she clung to him.
    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated like a refrain.
    “It’s all right,” he said.
    Over several minutes, her tears wound down until she only had occasional hitches of her shoulders and a case of the hiccups.
    “What’s your name?” asked Tommy.
    “M-Miranda. Miranda Kovnesky,” said the young woman. She was pretty in a way that Tommy would have found appealing if he were into women. Honey blonde hair, dark eyes, full lips. In her white button-down and pencil skirt, she looked kind of like a secretary, although she had execrable taste in shoes.
    “I’m Tommy. Nice to meet you, Miranda.”
    Miranda shivered a little. Tommy called up a warm, drying wind to wick away the last of the Hudson from their skin, hair, and clothing.
    “I feel so stupid,” said Miranda. “Right after I jumped, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.”
    “Why did you think about jumping at all?” Tommy laid his hand on her arm. “What’s so terrible about being Miranda?”
    She shook her head. “It was about a man. God, it sounds so stupid when I say it like that.”
    Tommy spread out his cape across the dirt riverbank, sat down, and patted it. “Want to talk about it?”
    Miranda blushed. “Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’ve already wasted your time today.”
    “Saving a life is never a waste of my time. It’s not every day you get a second chance to be alive.”
    “No, I guess not.” Miranda started to sit, but then paused. “I’m going to get your cape all dirty.”
    “It’s machine-washable.” Tommy grinned. “Now what’s on your mind?”
    Miranda sat and drew her knees up to her chin. “Have you ever loved someone you knew would never love you back?”
    Words caught in Tommy’s throat and he could almost see the granite face of John Stone reflected in the water. The great pylons holding up the bridge over their heads were exactly the same shade of gray as John’s skin. He coughed. “Yes,” he said at last. “I believe I know exactly what you mean.”
     
    #
     
    Shane smoked cigarette after cigarette as he drove the service truck through the streets of Harlem. He’d explained that if he didn’t have specific job duties, he was supposed to monitor the local power grid for any trouble or potential repairs. “They