Part Nineteen
The next day, Templar opened the front door of his townhouse and picked up his morning paper. A plume of rage and aggravation erupted through his body when he read the Daily Planet’s headlines which trumpeted:
Superman Saves Train Operator!
‘Man of Steel’ to the Rescue
By Lois Lane
In a fit of bad humor, he tore out several pages of the paper and threw it into the street. The papers fluttered in the air like a tiny snowstorm of confetti and then settled onto the pavement. He grumbled angrily, “Let the street cleaners pick up the mess, that’s what my taxes in this misbegotten city go to!” Kent had the nerve to upset his plans and become that flying freak! There was no doubt in his mind that he was behind all the mysterious rescues going on around town for the past few months – probably because Lana Lang was in Europe and couldn’t restrain his ‘do-gooder’ tendencies.
Ever since he received a rather surprising phone call from one of his contacts in DMG Europe telling him Lana and Daae had married he had dreaded this day. With the annoying Lois Lane around he could expect more of the same. He should have killed her when he had the chance.
***
Across town at the Metropolis Museum, Lana Daae entered her new office which had been decorated while she and Gregory were away on Honeymoon. Her assistant had carefully arranged hot coffee, fresh fruit, yesterday’s mail and the morning newspaper on her desk.
Lana sat down and opened up the newspaper, only to greet the headlines with a deep frown. This was her third day back from a fantasy honeymoon at the Cotton House on the fabulous Caribbean island of Mustique. The front page said it all; Clark engaging in juvenile antics. With a deep sigh of relief she was glad to have chosen her urbane Gregory over the man from Smallville.
***
In the executive office of James Olsen, champagne corks were popped, and the frothy vintage was happily shared with members of the board. Thanks to Jack’s keeping a level head in a crisis, the Daily Planet was one of the few papers which had photos of this ‘Superman’ character. He shook his head and thought that Lois Lane had picked a great name! The public loved it - so much more descriptive and powerful than ‘The Haze’.
The newspaper’s circulation had skyrocketed more than any other story in its two hundred year history. A few more exclusives or even near exclusives like these and he could stop having second thoughts about buying a newspaper instead of spending money taking down one of his rivals in the computer world. The day-to-day running a newspaper was a lot more challenging than writing out programs.
***
The sun had not yet peeped over the simple farmhouse situated on the edge of a golden wheat field in central Kansas. Mrs. Irig bustled about the warm, friendly kitchen preparing a meal of blueberry pancakes, sausages and eggs for the farmhands who would be arriving soon for work.
Sitting at the head of an oak wooden kitchen table that had seen generations of the Irig family eat hearty meals sat Wayne. He listened contently to a radio broadcast describing Clark’s debut as Earth’s mightiest hero. The old man took a long thoughtful pull of his strong coffee, flavored with honey and milk, from a stout blue mug, leaned back in his chair and smiled.
“Good for you son, your folks would have been proud.”
***
A week after Superman’s debut found Stephanie working later than usual. She was determined to clear off as many administrative tasks as possible before telling Gregory Daae she was retiring from DMG. It was the least she could do for the new assistant, whoever he or she might be. The last thing they needed was to walk into the quagmire of unfinished out-of-town meetings, misplaced documents and outdated passwords. It was unfair to them, Mr. Daae and her own reputation of being an organized and detailed oriented administrative assistant.
The thought of retiring from the company was not as bad as thinking she was betraying her employer. She felt it was important to at least give him some head’s up as to what Templar was planning. After all, he had built the company from scratch. It was wrong for this greedy interloper to come in and take everything he and Mr. Luthor had built for themselves. She had no illusions that Daae and Luthor were paragons of virtue in the business world, but merely considering that Templar would perhaps someday be CEO of DMG and LexCorp was galling.
The decision making process was never difficult for her; it was simply a matter of studying the facts, weighing the consequences and making the final choice. But this was infinitely the most difficult decision of any she ever had to make.
Staying would mean being held up to public scrutiny and possibly prison.
On this particular night she was studying some old files and making sure there was nothing that Mr. Daae’s future assistant would require later. She was signing off on a document when her pen ran out of ink.
“Darn it! Just when this was almost done! I’ll have to get another one.”
She went into the supply closet and after five minutes rummaging around for a fine point blue pen, she returned to her office. When she opened the door, there was Mr. Bonesteel using her copier.
“What are you doing at my copier … again!”
He turned around and said, “Oh! Excuse me, Mrs. Aronnax I … I didn’t think anyone was here.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” she said looking at him suspiciously, “My desk is covered with papers and the lights are still on. What’s going on Mr. Bonesteel? This is the second time I’ve caught you using my personal copier late at night.”
Bonesteel’s face flushed red with embarrassment. “Mr. Templar….”
“Yes, your boss. She said acidly, yet reined in her frustration.
“What about him? Ever since he and I had that minor disagreement while Mr. Daae was in Europe he’s avoided me. But you have not. Care to enlighten me as to what’s going on?”
Bonesteel shook his head mournfully and said, “Pl … please, don’t ask me that. I have a great deal of respect for you.”
Mrs. Aronnax took a deep breath, In for a penny, in for a pound, she thought. “You mean about how Mr. Templar’s determination to take over LexCorp with Mr. Daae’s silent backing.”
The sound of a sharp intake of breath from Bonesteel was alarming. Blood drained from his face in sheer fright. “Who … who, told you that?”
Gesturing to the copier she answered, “The papers you have been copying on my machine make for a fascinating story.” “Oh no! If Mr. Templar knew this…”
Stephanie was suddenly feeling a little queasy, she had spoken too soon. But she was resolved to hold onto her veneer of calm and pressed on. “I wouldn’t worry so much about Templar, what if our mutual employer discovered what other backroom deals the two of you are up to?”
Suddenly Bonesteel’s own shell of calmness shattered like a dropped egg, months of living with the anxiety and dread of discovery almost brought the man to his knees. He leaned against the copier, his face and hands sweating profusely.
“If you know, than others must know! Oh, that means I’m looking at time behind bars or far worse.”
“Th … there is no reason for you to go to jail…”
“That is where you are entirely mistaken Mrs. Aronnax, incarceration would be the best case scenario!” He looked nervously from side to side and said, “I’ve tried to resign, but he’s holding my past indiscretions against me. He’ll probably get someone to…” He took in a deep breath, making an effort to control himself.
Stephanie Aronnax was troubled. She had been foolish to tell this terrified man she knew about his boss’s activities, now both of them were in danger.
“You … you must be mistaken. Decent upstanding citizens don’t just go around killing other people!”
“No they don’t, but … but this man is anything but decent…” He reached into his pocket and removed a silk burgundy pocket square and mopped his brow. “Working for Mr. Templar has been … trial some. I … I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time. There has to be another copier in the building I can use discreetly.”
She placed a calming hand on his and almost recoiled at the cold dampness of his skin. “Mr. Bonesteel. Please don’t worry. No one need know about these ‘copying sessions’. Why were you doing it anyway?”
His large ears grew pink with embarrassment. “Protection, maybe if I can get away from Templar these papers can be used as some kind of leverage with the proper authorities. The SECC and several other government agencies would love to have long and in-depth discussions with him!”
Stephanie’s mind went back to that revealing conversation with her friends. There would be many forensic accountants at those conversations as well. All doubts vanished, it was time to leave DMG and give the needed materials to Lane and Kent without revealing who she was.
“Mr. Bonesteel, excuse me, but what is your first name?”
“Tristan, Mrs. Aronnax, my first name is Tristan.”
“My name is Stephanie. Tristan, what if I told you there might be a way out? One which would involve turning all the files you have been copying over to people who will get the truth out there? Let me become the conduit, I will keep quiet about who gave me this information and you keep providing me with what the reporters Lane and Kent will need to write a series of articles about Templar. I … I have decided to retire from DMG at the end of the month.”
He shook his head disbelievingly. “Weren’t you listening? Templar will kill you. He’s already killed one man and won’t stop until he has what he wants: both DMG and LexCorp in his control.
***
“Jack! Stacy! Where’s that information and new photos on Superman I asked for?”
Stacy materialized at her side in each hand were the requested items, “You mean this file and these photos?”
Taking the materials like a thirsty man in a desert grabbing for water Lois snapped, “Perfect! What took you guys so long?”
The intern answered in a deadpan tone, “Uh, interns perform miracles every other day of the week. Honestly, you only asked for this stuff thirty minutes ago. I had to pull several files from the morgue for Meyers and Jack was developing pictures for Diane. Lois Lane isn’t the only reporter we assist.”
Lois decided not to take the bait and answered. “Stacy, Superman is the biggest story to hit this town in like forever! I have every intention of reporting it, with or without your help. Now call the hospital again to find out the status of the train operator.”
“According to my source, he’s in stable, but guarded condition - a step down from yesterday. His doctor expects him to make a complete recovery.”
Lois beamed and started to return to her work when a thought crossed her mind. “Great! Hey, when were you going to share that tidbit with me?”
Stacy gave her an uncharacteristic smirk and said, “When you finished chewing me out … like always!” With that, she turned and walked back to the intern cubicles.
“Terrific,” Lois mumbled under her breath in a mixture of annoyance and admiration, “that girl has been spending entirely too much time with Jack.”
She turned back to her keyboard and began frantically typing up the follow-up to her Superman debut story. Ten minutes later she heard Clark's familiar voice say “Still working on that story partner?”
Without looking up Lois responded, “No, this is the follow-up, something you would know if you stuck around the bullpen for awhile. Where have you been?”
Skillfully avoiding her question he said, “Oh, like I don’t know that Jack and Stacy have been scrambling looking for every story written about ‘the Haze’ for you. The materials from those stories will form the basis for your Superman interview questions?”
That got Lois’ attention. She looked at him, while her fingers still deftly danced over the keyboard. “They told you that?! Wait until I get my hands on those two! It’s a breach of reporter/intern etiquette! How dare they spill my secrets!”
Catherine sauntered over, “It’s hardly a secret Lois, every reporter in the city is doing the same thing. Even Peggy and Ralph are tracking down old Haze stories to make a connection. Our man in the blue tights sudden appearance has kicked over a hornet’s nest. Not just here, but in other cities like New York and LA.”
A noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak escaped from Lois. “New York? Los Angeles? He showed up in those places as well? No way! He belongs in Metropolis! I saw him first! He’s mine!”
Peggy could be heard from her desk snort, “Yeah, as if! Get in line with the rest of the pack Lane!”
“Yeah, it’s not like you have an exclusive on him Lois.” Steve called over.
Diane joined the free-for-all conversation and piped up. "If Jack is around when the big guy shows up again make sure he gets pix for the Weekend section!"
“If I hadn’t been sick, I would have been the Daily Planet reporter on the scene!” Applegate moaned. “Now I’m in Perry’s doghouse! Does anybody know how long the Metropolis Botanical Gardens will be holding its annual cactus festival?” He moaned in despair, a mournful expression on his hangdog face.
A smile spread slowly across Lois’ face, she couldn’t resist saying, “Consider that a life lesson Applegate. Next time, cover the story, no matter how bad you feel!”
Listening to all the colorful comments from his co-workers made Clark shake his head ruefully. It was vitally important to keep his life as Clark Kent separate from Superman. If anyone discovered his real identity it would mean instant exposure. After all which reporter among them could pass up the chance for such a career making story? One if done properly, the article would surely net numerous award nominations.
He was grateful to Mr. Wells for informing him about the underground tunnels. In the past few days he had located several more of the passageways, allowing him to appear and disappear from public view with ease. Until he and Lois could put a stop to Tempus, Superman would have to be extremely careful about his comings and goings.
Lois.
He wanted to tell his reporting partner everything. He remembered Clark in the other universe had earnestly suggested he reveal the secret as soon as possible. By doing so it could save them wasted time and no small amount of heartbreak. But that was before Lana was in the picture. But was that really the truth? From the moment he stepped off the elevator and saw Lois standing at her desk, he felt the strong connection between them. He denied the attraction because of Lana’s feelings and might have even entered into an engagement and even married the petite blonde. But Lana’s treacherous actions showed she had no qualms about hurting his feelings.
Obviously for Clark Kent, there could be no other woman in his life besides Lois Lane. He had to reveal exactly who Superman was to her as soon as possible.
“Clark? Hel-lo Clark! Are you listening to me?” The object of his musings was leaning against her desk, staring at him intently.
“What? Oh sorry Lois, I was thinking about my story.”
“Which one? I hope you have at least two, to Perry, reporters are only as good as their last story.”
“It’s the TresAx piece. Constance wanted me to make doubly sure all my sources were airtight, just in case the company demands proof and I have to produce them. There’s no doubt in Perry’s mind that’s going to happen. The article will rattle more than a few of the folks on Wall Street.”
She nodded her head approvingly, “That’s what they pay us the big bucks for, writing stories that expose corruption! Come on, sit. Let me grab some coffee for you and one of those fattening vanilla glazed donuts!”
Enjoying how easily they had slipped back into their comfortable banter, Clark’s face broke into a sunny grin. “This one should make him happy for at least a day.” He sat down, entered in his password and the monitor sprang into life. He began typing:
Unfair and Illegal Tax Breaks for French Media Company
By Clark J. Kent
The French communications company, TresAx receives handsome unwarranted tax breaks within Europe and now that it has offices in Metropolis, Chicago and Atlanta certain executives are quietly pushing for similar privileges in the United States. Should TresAx be allowed to use these unfair and illegal loopholes their bottom line next year will move upward exponentially.
New Troy’s higher-ranking Senator and Presidential hopeful, Ian Braxton and the company’s CFO, Mr. Armand Guerin, are behind these clandestine activities and the evidence against them is mounting by the day….
The article continued with Clark naming names, dates and events to further back into a corner not just the two main culprits, but the entire company. The piece of writing was not as extensive as the planned series of articles against DMG, yet he was pleased with how easily the story came together and even briefly mused on the possibility of receiving a Kerth nomination.
***
Later that afternoon, Clark emerged from Perry’s office, “Thanks Chief for running this by our Legal department so quickly.”
“No problem son, standard procedure. Since those sources of yours checked out, Mr. Olsen and even the suits upstairs were happy. It’ll make the morning edition, in the business section. Should make more’n a few people in Wall Street and Washington a little nervous! Good job Clark, see you in the morning.”
As the young man made his way to the elevator, a pair of eyes watched him, eyes that were self-satisfied, certain that the perfidy of his actions would ruin Clark Kent’s career – and save his hide.
Ralph picked up the phone, dialed and when Bonesteel answered and spoke in hushed tones. “Tell Templar the TresAx story will be on the street with the morning edition.”
{Thank you Mr. Lombard.} As soon as the connection was broken, Bonesteel passed on the message to his boss.
Later that evening, Templar phoned Linda King at home and said, {Inform your boyfriend to let his best writers lose. Defend Guerin, Braxton and TresAx in the paper. Once the Star prints articles denouncing the Daily Planet’s story the other papers will smell blood and there will be a feeding frenzy. When the legal pressure hits, Kent’s sources will be completely discredited.}
As she listened to Templar’s instructions, Linda shook her head; he was far more treacherous than Daae. She had met Clark when he first arrived in Metropolis and in fact liked the handsome young man. His respectful treatment of herself and other female journalists was much valued. If he worked for The Star, she might have shared the credit with him on a few stories.
She mused thoughtfully; who knows what would have happened if she were not involved with Preston? If only her former college rival hadn’t sunk her claws into Clark first, they might have been the new hot reporting team in Metropolis. She smiled to herself, perhaps heat would be someplace else besides the newsroom. Loathing acknowledging Templar as the architect of this disaster she asked snidely, “How was Daae able to pull all of this together so swiftly?”
Ignoring the comment for the slight it was, he answered, {Although it is not public knowledge, TresAx is one of many companies he owns. Of all the stories that Mr. Kent could be writing about he choose to expose a European Media company that is owned by the man he and his soon-to-be ex-partner were bent on destroying! Plans are in motion to discredit Kent’s sources.} The malevolent delight in his voice was almost palpable, even over the phone.
{Now, once it is revealed that Kent’s story is a fraud because he can’t produce a single trustworthy person to back him up, any further stories he would have worked on will be tainted including anything with his partner! Oh, did I mention that TresAx will mount a full libel suit against the Daily Planet? Ah! How sweet it is when a plan comes together!}
Linda had no love for the Daily Planet, but she knew this entire situation was wrong, “A … a set-up? Daae is manipulating the media? Both of you could land into a lot of trouble. If the word got out, no one would trust anything coming from him or DMG.”
Templar said brightly, {Duh! Sold to the little lady with the big brain! Of course he’s manipulating the media. You and your boyfriend Preston do it all the time. Only Mr. Daae and his company accomplished the deed on a much grander scale. That’s why he has both you and Preston under his thumb. I imagine the Luthors would not have so rapidly developed their sterling reputation for charitable works without the Star’s planting a story to help orphans which was carefully slanted to present them in the best possible light.}
“But … but Mrs. Luthor did sell her Picasso and Degas paintings! The presentation of checks written out to the various orphanages that was part of my follow-up story.” Her voice trailed off as the full implications of what he meant sank in.
Templar continued, his voice taking on the tone of a parent speaking with an imprudent child, {Oh my dear Linda, Arianna sold those paintings and some of the money did go to buy sports and computer equipment for a bunch of noisy orphans. But remember the amount of that well publicized sale was never revealed. I have it on good authority that more than half of the money was salted away in Swiss bank accounts. As a … shall we say a special fund in case her marriage to dear Lex falters. How she managed to hide such an amount is beyond me.}
Completely annoyed with Templar’s condescending tone and eager to end the conversation, Linda responded sarcastically, “Why don’t you ask her? I’m certain Mrs. Luthor would be thrilled to reveal her financial secrets.”
He said, {That’s a capital idea. Perhaps I should have lunch with the dear lady and charm the strategy from her. How does one steal from the third richest man in the world who also happens to be your husband? I wonder how she and your newspaper would look if the truth were revealed.}
Linda whispered shocked at the direction the conversation had turned.
“How did you know that? We have a loyal reader base! No one would believe you on the strength of one story!”
{Printing the orphanage funding story was only the first time The Star followed the Luthors’ instructions. Nipping on the heels of that story was something else. Let me refresh your memory; does gun running in the Congo come to mind? We both know Mr. Luthor was behind all of that. He gave you that tip so a rival gang could be broken in order for his people to take control. That story was the foundation for your reputation as an investigative reporter … of a sort. Didn’t the Pulitzer people nominate it for a prize?}
Her heart raced, who had told him that?
{No doubt Preston never told you Lex Luthor seriously considered giving Lois Lane the story, but he knew she would never sacrifice her integrity for a story - no matter what the rewards.} He let the words sink in and finished by saying, {Apparently, a troublesome matter like honestly was not an obstacle for Linda King.}
Linda was speechless, the receiver became slick with sweat from her hands.
{Good, silence means I have your attention. Be careful how you speak to me in the future, the outcome would mean wearing an orange jumpsuit and orange doesn’t work with such delectable fair skin and red hair. Forget about telling another reporter to write up the story, I want you to write it for the evening edition, have Guerin and Braxton loudly disavow Mr. Kent’s article. I have no doubt Preston won’t mind me taking editorial and publisher liberties. Oh yes, dear lovely Linda … one more thing.}
Her voice was strained and frightened when she managed to push out a simple word, “Yes?”
{On my next visit to Preston’s office make sure that cheap leather chair is gone! Pay for it yourself if you have to.}
With those caustic words he ended the conversation.
***
It was early in the morning, two days after Clark’s TresAx story had hit the newsstands. This was Perry’s favorite time of the work day; he got more done between 6:00am and 9:00am than he did the whole day. Much as he loathed leaving the warmth of his and Alice’s bed, this was the life of a newspaper man.
He sat at his desk, chortling happily over the early reports of the paper’s circulation that week. Once again his bullpen staff had performed admirably. But most especially because of the TresAx story Clark had written. The media frenzy had been fierce, especially from The Star which had taken up TresAx’s cause with a vengeance.
He was so involved with studying the circulation report that he did not hear the door to his office open.
A cultured voice with a humorous tone said, “Good Morning Mr. White.”
Startled to hear an unfamiliar voice at that hour of the morning, Perry looked up and rose slowly from his chair. Standing before him was a tall, handsome man with light brown hair done in the latest style, wearing what could only be a custom tailored three-piece gray pinstripe suit, with a vest, embellished by a white pocket square and very expensive gold cufflinks. Everything about this man spoke of power and that indefinable quality of charisma. In Perry’s estimation he made Lex Luthor and Gregory Daae look downright shabby in comparison.
Something in this man’s cool, demeanor made Perry wary, it was not the first time he had entertained ‘visitors’ in his office at unusual hours – his mysterious source, Sore Throat being a perfect example. But usually when these surprise visits occurred they were late at night, not just as the bullpen’s daytime staff began arriving. There was something about the man’s body language despite the expensive suit that bespoke of a street fighter. Unlike Luthor and Daae he fought his own battles. But now was not the time to be rattled by first impressions, he needed to know what his visitor’s objectives were, although the old newshound in him had a good idea.
“Who are you and what’s your business in my newsroom?” Perry barked, his southern accent more pronounced than usual.
“Good morning Mr. White. My name is Sebastian Kell, of Litt, Pierce and Crane. We represent the American branch of the company known as TresAx; they are demanding the reporter of this slanderous story produce all the names and addresses of all his sources so they can come in for a deposition.
Perry forgot all about his high blood pressure and fired back, “This state has shield laws for journalists to protect their sources!”
Kell continued talking as if Perry had never spoken, “The Daily Planet’s legal department would never have allowed this story to have run without affidavits and any other documentation that led to these scandalous lies about their company. If those sources Clark Kent used to write that article are not given over to us within twenty-four hours as proof, this newspaper is going to be embroiled in a multimillion dollar lawsuit. That’s my business in your ‘newsroom’.”
The last time Perry felt that angry was when James Olsen sent down an efficiency expert named Chip to change how the newsroom was run. The snot nosed little twerp lasted less than five minute in his office. That was Perry’s brand of efficiency. He shot back, “Got any papers to back up that request, Junior?”
Perry watched as Kell pulled a thick envelope from his breast pocket and laid it on his desk. He smiled playfully at the older man, perfectly assured his charm would soften the blow until he said. “Don’t think that the folding of this ‘great metropolitan newspaper’ will affect me. My paper of choice is The New York Times.”
With those words, the immaculately groomed lawyer turned and exited the office, passing Clark’s desk. He pointed to it and called out, “If I were you I would distance the newspaper from this person as soon as possible. He’s poison. Have a good day Mr. White.”
Kell’s visit had been lightening quick and just as devastating. Perry sat down heavily in his chair, stunned and still angry. “Great shades of Elvis,” he whispered.
