Rules of War
Folc4evernaday
Chapter 2
A/N: I know. I know. It's been a while. I couldn't manage to juggle two drama and angst heavy epics at one time so this one took a backseat while I finished Delusions. Good news is Rules of War is back and will be on a regular posting schedule.
Thursdays will be the weekly posting schedule. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter.
***
Bill Henderson gritted his teeth as he tried to drown out the pain of his throbbing head. The blinding light that continued to flash his way caused him to cry out as he took a step forward. Questions from the different officers echoed around him.
Are you okay?
How long have you been down here?
What happened? “Luthor,” Henderson growled out.
Zymack looked back at him in confusion, “What?”
“Luthor,” Henderson growled, “He’s alive.”
***
“You can call me Stitches!”
It happened so fast Jim Burrows wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes. A dark shadow flew through the police station, throwing high tech devices into the air that released a dark mist.
“You!” the man that identified himself as Stitches screeched out with a snarl, “Aren’t you a little far from home?”
“I should be asking you the same question, Johnny,” the dark tone escaped from the hooded man in black. Through the mist, Burrows could make out two pointed ears on the top of the hood the hood the stranger wore beneath the gas mask.
***
The sound of a siren blaring on the street followed by the barking of a dog filled the afternoon air. Lucy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turned toward Jimmy, “Things are getting kinda scary out here,”
“Yeah,” Jimmy gave her a half-smile, “Thanks for agreeing to an afternoon movie with me,” He twisted his mouth, “The whole mandatory curfew put a bit of a damper on the movie and dinner idea.”
Lucy smiled back at him, “Yeah, well, maybe next time,”
“Next time?” Jimmy asked hopefully as they reached the front of her apartment building.
“Next time,” she repeated, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek. “I kinda like having you around,” She took a breath, holding his gaze as he smiled back at her before turning to leave. “Bye, Jimmy,”
***
Two officers walked in perfect unison by Mayson Drake’s side, while two soldiers from the National Guard escorted her and Michael Clemmons into City Hall. Mayson felt her heart palpitate as she moved further and further into the empty building that had been evacuated just four short hours ago. Shards of glass and broken wood were scattered on the ground.
Mayson looked down as the glass crunched under her heels, spotting the blood spatter on the floor from where the mysterious gang of criminals led by Nigel St. John had overpowered the police all over Metropolis and freed more than thirty hardened criminals. She swallowed hard as they reached the end of the hall, leading into the courtroom of Judge Jackson.
The door opened, and they stepped inside where Mayor Berkowitz and Governor Wade were waiting by the jury box. Mayor Berkowitz turned to Michael, “Mr. Clemmons, glad you could make it.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Michael looked around the eerie quiet courtroom. “It’s a ghost town,”
“It’s like this all over the city,” Governor Wade supplied. “Ten small groups of criminals all hit every courthouse and police station at the same time. Some of the most notorious criminals have gone missing,”
“Missing?” Mayson scoffed, “You mean escaped.”
“Kidnapped,” Berkowitz supplied. “From what we saw no one went with them willingly.”
“Who are these people?” Mayson asked, an eerie calm coming over her.
“We don’t know,” Governor Wade said.
“What do you know?” Mayson asked.
“I’m told you’ve worked with Superman on the Intergang takedown case,” Governor Wade said, avoiding Mayson’s question.
“Yes, but my only way of contacting him was to either yell for help or reach out to a source that is not available right now,” Mayson said looking back at Governor Wade with the shake of her head. “No one knows where he is.”
“What about this mysterious shadow guy everyone’s been talking about?” Michael asked. “Any word on who he is?”
“No,” Berkowitz said, loosening his collar. “No one knows who he is or if he’s friend or foe.”
“So, what do we do?” Mayson asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Governor Pierce said solemnly.
***
The dark halls were covered in silver steel panels. The square bolts covered each panel with brown rust that told how long they had gone uncared for. Bill Henderson cleared his throat looking around the hidden room Zymack had discovered. Bunkers covered one side of the room and unperishable food that had been stockpiled for who knew how long covered a long steel shelf. In the corner was an elevator panel that went somewhere. He was just too tired to figure out where.
“Found a lantern,” Zymack said, pointing at the antique looking light fixture that Atwater was currently attempting to light.
“Any ideas on how to get out of here?” Bill asked, turning to his friend.
“You’re the expert on these tunnels,” Zymack reminded him.
***
Two Weeks Later…
The wind blew against Lois Lane’s face as she rested her head against her husband’s spandex covered arm. The clouds surrounded them in a cool cocoon as they flew over the city lights below. Two weeks of blissful, isolation from the rest of the world. It had been…perfect.
With the constant trouble both she and Clark constantly found themselves in it was nice to have time for just the two of them and shut the rest of the world out. Superman had even hung up his cape for their two weeks abroad, allowing the rest of the world to survive on its own. She easily could have gone for another week of seclusion with him. It surprised her how quickly two weeks had gone by.
“Lois?”
“Hmm?” Lois lifted her head up and saw Clark’s dark eyes staring back at her.
A smile cracked across his mouth, and he whispered, “I said, we’re home.”
“Looks pretty quiet” Lois observed, glancing down below them at the familiar street. The cool air from the fall breeze flew through her hair as they slowly lost altitude behind their apartment building.
“Home sweet home,” he whispered in her ear as her feet hit the ground and she stepped back, looking around the abandoned street just in case. She looked back and saw Clark had already changed into the green button-down shirt and jeans he’d been wearing earlier in the day.
Before she could take the time to appreciate his change in wardrobe, he pulled her in his arms, capturing her mouth with his. His hands wandered through her hair, slipping up the back of her neck and cupping the back of her head with his palm. His other hand moved up and down her lower back, and she let out a low moan, feeling the intensity of his lips against hers send a familiar flutter through her insides.
Her fingers moved to the back of his neck, cupping the back of his head as she murmured against him, “It is so not fair you can change that quickly,”
“You’re forgetting how handy a quick wardrobe change can be,” he whispered softly, moving his hand from her cheek to join his other hand on her lower back, pulling her closer.
She smoothed her hands up the front of his chest, fingering the soft fabric, “Well, maybe instead of wasting our time hiding outside like a couple of teenagers sneaking out past curfew we should go inside?” Her eyes sparkled as she grinned back at him, “I mean unless you have a thing for dark and rundown buildings?” A cold breeze rushed across her face, and she let out a soft giggle as he scooped her in his arms and moved them inside their apartment at super-speed.
***
Bruce Wayne stepped off the elevator to the penthouse of Wayne Tech Tower. He looked around, spotting his friend Lucius Fox in the main room, hard at work in front of the four monitors he’d set up for handling Wayne Enterprises crucial issues from Metropolis. One of which was keeping an eye on the criminal element that continued to plague Gotham.
“Lucius,” he nodded to Fox as he approached. “Anything new?”
Lucius shook his head, “I’m still not finding anything on the scanners that connects this Stitches that attacked the Metropolis P.D.”
“How many escaped?” Bruce asked.
“Seven,” Lucius Fox pulled up the mug shots of the men that had been identified as attackers in the raid on the Metropolis P.D.
Bruce’s jaw tightened as he stared at the image of the ringleader that had identified himself as “Stitches.” He knew all too well what Johnny “Stitches” Denetto was capable of. His reign on Gotham had left the city in shambles. He had thought his days of terror were over, but it seemed he had just relocated to Metropolis.
“No sign of Denetto,” Bruce observed aloud.
“He always has been good about covering his tracks,” Lucius reminded him.
“Why Metropolis though?” Bruce wondered, looking out the large room length tall windows that looked over the city. “Why do you think they chose the city they knew Superman was looking over?”
“Superman hasn’t been seen at any of these attacks,” Lucius reminded him. “Do you think Denetto might have something to do with his disappearance?”
Bruce tightened his jaw, “It’s possible,” He let out a heavy sigh. He’d spent years trying to rid his city of Denetto and make him pay for his unspeakable crimes only to be faced with the deranged criminal’s escape from Gotham Penitentiary before his transfer to Arkham. He still didn’t know how Denetto had pulled that off.
He’d spent the last few weeks looking for information on the escaped members of Denetto’s gang that continued to grow larger and larger by the day. He’d come here hoping to get Superman’s help in his quest to bring the escaped criminals back in. Now it looked like he’d be the one helping Superman.
Bruce looked out at the night sky, “Something ugly’s coming here, Lucius, I can feel it.” He turned back to Lucius, “How are we coming with the ultrasonic wave?”
Lucius pointed to his computer that was hooked up to a large metal disc. “We’re just about ready, but I must stress that I think trying to call Superman with this high of a frequency and this high decibel—”
Bruce shook his head, “STAR Labs’ ultrasonic watch didn’t work so he’s either not in range or he’s not able to respond. Either way, we’ll find out for sure once we test it.”
Lucius nodded, “I’ll start it out at fifty decibels,”
“Ninety,” Bruce pressed. At Lucius’ concerned expression he countered, “We’ve been staying within the seventy decibels range the last few weeks. Let’s push it up to ninety. See if we can get a response,”
Lucius flashed him a concerned look, “You do remember this man you’re trying to find is invulnerable, right? Can bend the Batmobile over his head without blinking an eye? Knocked an asteroid out of orbit with his bare hands?” He gave Bruce a concerned expression, “Are you sure you want to push your luck? Fancy gadgets aside you are very human and very vulnerable.”
“I’ve got to try something,” Bruce responded with an agitated expression, “Make it a hundred decibels. Just to be safe.”
“It’s your funeral,” Lucius responded, browsing to the controls to activate the ultrasonic wall.
***
Addiction.
That was the only way to describe the pull Clark Kent felt as his mind went blank, blocking out the rest of the world as he pressed his wife back against the front door of their apartment. He barely remembered locking the door behind them before he found himself unable to focus on anything other than the mind-numbing movements of his wife’s body against his. All he could see, think, or feel was how intoxicating his wife’s limbs felt wrapped around him as he devoured every inch of her.
After spending the last two weeks flying to some of the lesser known beautiful wonders of the world with Lois, he felt closer to her than ever. Two weeks of nothing but uninterrupted bliss with his wife. He still couldn’t say the new title without grinning ear-to-ear. His hand smoothed across her face. She beamed back at him, her eyes shining as she leaned into him.
“I love you,” he murmured against her lips, allowing a grin to cross his face as he whispered her married name, “Lois Lane Kent,”
“I love y—”
A loud ultrasonic blast of frequency flooded his super-powered eardrums at maximum volume, echoing at the intensity well past anything he’d heard before. Jimmy’s ultrasonic watch and even Martin Snell’s high-frequency device hadn’t been this loud. It was almost as deafening as the wall of sound Lenny Stoke had created last year, but his vibrating eardrums felt the painful effects regardless.
“Clark?” He could make out Lois’ attempt to pull him back through the drowning sensation that flooded his eardrums with a piercing sound that made him fall back on the floor. “Clark!”
He could feel a bead of sweat dripping down his face as he hunkered down on the floor, waiting for relief to come. After what felt like hours but probably was only a few minutes the sound faded. His ears held onto the ringing as he let out a sigh of relief.
“Clark?” Lois knelt down next to him, placing a hand on his cheek.
He let out a sigh of relief as the sound of her voice echoed in his eardrums. “Are you okay?” she asked. He could hear the vibration of her trembling voice as he looked back at her.
“Fine…I think,” he managed, standing to his feet. “I think someone’s trying to get my attention…in a painful way.” He rubbed his index finger inside the inside of his ear canal, recalling the pain from a few minutes ago.
“Who do you think it is?” Lois asked, tightening her jaw as worry lines spread across her forehead.
The quick drumming of her heart rate told him he hadn’t been the only one affected by the ultrasonic attack. He looked back at Lois, noting the tense features across her face that reminded him once more that every battle he faced left her anxiety-ridden as much as her daredevil stunts made his heart palpitate with worry. Everything that he faced as Clark and as Superman affected her just as much as it did him.
The tormented look in her eyes reminded him of his last encounter with Kryptonite during the Diana Stride fiasco. He could tell from the look on her face the painful attack had scared her. As much as he would love to brush the ultrasonic attack off as if it was nothing and pick up where he and Lois had left off, he knew he couldn’t do that. He had to find the source of that sound and put both their minds at ease. He ran the back of his hand against her cheek, “I’m going to go check the city. See if I can figure out who or what was making that sound.”
“Be careful,” Lois placed a hand on his chest. He leaned in to kiss her before disappearing into a blur of red and blue, intent on finding the source of the ultrasonic sound that had put a cramp on his evening at home with his wife.
***
The long, silver limo pulled up to the large mansion that towered over the perfectly manicured property. Music and lights were coming from the immense brick mansion. The roundabout in the courtyard had cars parked along the long driveway leading toward the quiet street the mansion resided on.
“Congressman Riley sure does know how to throw a classy party, doesn’t he?” Carmine Falcone commented, leaning forward as he lit his cigar from inside the limo. He turned his attention to the man sitting across from him—his right-hand man, Bruno Mannheim.
Bruno wore a steely expression as he ran his hand across his square jaw, fingering the neatly trimmed goatee. His dark hair was combed back, and his Prada pinstriped suit fit Bruno’s tall stature perfectly as he nodded in agreement, “Riley always did have the best liquor.”
Falcone turned toward the two women that had accompanied him over to Congressman Riley’s get together. He examined the tight silk that wrapped around each of them, barely covering them enough to be called a dress. The blonde beauties were dressed in just enough to be legal though he was sure none of the congressmen or senators inside Congressman Riley’s get together would be complaining about the amount of skin coverage or cleavage the girls were showing.
Falcone took a long puff of his cigar before turning to Mannheim, “You sure Denetto made the switch?”
“Everyone in there should be more than willing to cooperate with anything you or the ladies suggest,” Mannheim reassured.
Carmine turned to the women as he took a long puff from his cigar, “You know what to do, girls,”
***
Clark soared through the night sky, scanning the city for a sign of anything out of place that could have caused the ultrasonic attack. He’d planned on doing a patrol around the city tonight but not before continuing what he and Lois had started outside their apartment. He could still hear the ringing in his ears from the intensity of the sound that had blasted over him like a wave. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for.
“Help!” a cry came from the street below where three hooded figures surrounded a small Volkswagen parked on the corner of a darkened shopping center. By the driver’s side was a woman in uniform that looked to be just leaving the shopping center from her shift. He saw a knife, a pipe, and a baseball bat in each of the attempted assailants’ hands as they cornered her.
In a flash, he quickly swooped down to fly the would-be-victim away from the assailants to ensure they wouldn’t harm her. After setting her down he turned to the disoriented assailants, taking a protective step in front of the victim, “I believe shopping hours are over, gentlemen,”
“What’s he doing here?” one of the assailants asked.
“I thought you said it was safe,” another remarked under their breath.
Before the third could respond, he quickly grabbed an empty pipe from the back alley of the shopping center and used it to hold the assailants in a tight bind until the authorities could arrive. He turned to the victim, “They won’t be giving you any more…”
He stopped, feeling the blinding wave of sound fill his head once more. He let out a groan as he hit the ground, lifting his head up as he gritted his teeth trying to grin and bear it as he searched for the source of the deafening sound.
It was like a wave.
The sound felt closer.
His eyes flickered open as he used his enhanced vision to search around him for a sign of where the sound could be coming from. The tall skyscrapers that filled the Metropolis skyline towered over him as he looked up, searching for a sign. His eardrums continued to vibrate under the high decibels hitting his super-hearing again and again. He held his hand up, feeling the invisible waves hit him again and again as he attempted to locate the source. He closed his eyes, trying to focus his hearing in order to determine the source. Then just as quickly as the sound came, it disappeared. He focused his hearing on following the source of the sound, thrusting himself into the night sky and following the remnants of the sound wave that had hit him twice now in the last hour.
Just outside the newly renovated WayneTech building he heard the faint remnants from the ultrasonic attack. He watched as two men hovered over a computer, staring at the screen. The first man kept checking the monitors, and the other man was looking out the windows.
“That was a hundred decibels,” the man at the computer said.
“Has it been five minutes yet?” the other man asked.
“I am really not comfortable with this…”
“Noted. Lucius, push it to a hundred and ten decibels,” the other man ordered.
Before Clark could give Lucius a chance to tap the keys, he crashed through the glass windows, simultaneously shooting a beam of heat vision toward the monitor and grabbing the man that had ordered another ten decibels by the throat and slamming him against the wall.
“Who are you?!”
***
Rollie Vale made his way down the long and narrow hallway, following the guard that had shown up at his cell in the middle of the night with an order to move him. He wasn’t one to argue with the red-haired guard was quiet as he walked behind Rollie, ordering turn by turn until he reached the visitor’s room.
“Isn’t it a bit late for my conjugal visit?” Rollie snorted sarcastically.
The guard tapped on the door, and it opened, revealing two individuals sitting behind a table. One was a bald man he’d never seen before wearing spectacles and a lab coat. The other was a blonde haired beauty that had a look about her that told him there was a darkness hidden behind her dark eyes. He took a few steps inside the room uncertain what to expect with this surprise visit. He turned behind him and saw the guard had followed him inside.
Curious, Rollie looked back at the guard, “Last I checked you were supposed to wait outside.”
“Last I checked you weren’t even supposed to have visitors,” the guard replied in a smooth, sultry voice that he was sure wasn’t male. Rollie took a double take when he saw the masculine figure of the guard change to a long-legged, red-haired beauty. Her lips pursed into a heart and she winked at him, “I think it’s safe to say we’re not following protocol tonight, Mr. Vale,”
***
“Who are you?!”
Bruce swallowed hard against the vice-like grip that had his throat pinned against the floor-length windows of the penthouse office he and Lucius were in. There was a flicker of red reflecting back at him from the menacing eyes of Superman demanding answers.
“Br…Bruce,” he managed to muster enough strength in his vocal chords to respond to the furious Superman’s demand for answers.
“Wayne!” Lucius called out. “His name is Bruce Wayne, and we need your help, Superman.”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Superman’s eyes before the grip around his throat loosened, and he was thrown to the ground like a piece of garbage being discarded. Bruce took in a deep breath trying to fill his lungs with the oxygen he’d been deprived of. He heard the shuffle of Superman’s boots against the ceramic floor behind him.
“You sure got a funny way of asking for help,” Superman growled out angrily.
Lucius helped Bruce to his feet, and Bruce let out a heavy sigh, staring back at the stern features across Superman’s face. The red cape hung off his shoulders and rivaled the deep red that flickered in the man of steel’s eyes. It had worked. He’d gotten his attention, and thankfully his worst fears weren’t true, but now he had a very hostile superhero to tend to and hope that he could reason with the man of steel long enough to be heard out.
“I was trying to get your attention,” Bruce explained calmly.
“Well, you certainly got it,” Superman’s response came across more as a dare than a response.
Bruce stood to his feet and took a moment to collect his thoughts under the stern gaze of the man of steel that almost seemed to be daring him to make a wrong move and risk another attack. “I needed to guarantee a response.” He caught the look of distrust on Superman’s face and continued, “We weren’t sure if Denetto was successful on his raid or not.”
“What raid?” Superman asked icily.
“Gotham P.D.” Lucius supplied.
“Gotham?” Superman echoed not following where this was headed.
“The last attack on Gotham was made by a group of thugs that associate themselves with a group I’m sure you’re familiar with,” Bruce explained calmly, pacing nervously under the man of steel’s gaze. “Intergang.”
Superman’s stern features tensed as he processed the news and Bruce continued. “The last attack was led by someone that likes to call himself Stitches. He’s one of Bill Church’s top lieutenants and capable of double-crossing anyone that gets in his way.”
“I’m familiar with the name,” Superman responded carefully. “From what I understand, he was supposed to be transferred to Arkham Asylum to carry out his sentence for the murder of Harvey Dent; also known among Gotham City’s criminals as Two-Face.”
“You’ve done your homework,” Bruce observed, mildly impressed. It appeared Superman kept himself informed on more than just Metropolis’ criminal activities. The silent question still remained on Superman’s face, and Bruce sighed, continuing to explain what had happened. “Denetto escaped with several members of his gang. I don’t know how but he’s out there, and he’s made himself right at home here in Metropolis.”
Superman’s features softened from the stern, icy stature to a concerned and dismayed hero upon hearing of Denetto’s escape. “When was this?”
“We’re not sure,” came Lucius’ response, handing Superman a copy of the Daily Planet’s front page from a few weeks ago. The paper showed the image of the mayor and governor at the podium ordering the mandatory curfew for all citizens after the attack on City Hall and the Metropolis P.D.
“These aren’t your average street thugs or organized crime rings,” Bruce said carefully. “Most of the criminals in Gotham are certifiable and have no problem crossing every line to get what they want.”
Superman’s expression grew pensive as he pondered the news. “Earlier you said you weren’t sure if Denetto had been successful in his raid. What did you mean by that?”
Bruce looked to Lucius who stood next to him, waiting patiently for the man of steel to respond. He needed to warn him of what Denetto had gotten his hands on, but he wasn’t sure how. “Harvey Dent got a hold of something…dangerous. I’m afraid it’s what cost him his life.”
“What was it?” Superman asked.
“Kryptonite,” Bruce said carefully. Immediately he saw the man of steel’s features harden and Bruce continued, “Gotham P.D. had taken it into custody, and it was supposed to be transferred to STAR Labs, but unfortunately that didn’t happen in time.”
“Unfortunately,” Superman echoed in a mocking tone. “You say that as if it was some lost paperwork, Mr. Wayne, instead of the deadly radioactive substance that it is.”
“We need your help to stop Denetto and bring him back in,” Bruce began cautiously. “That is if you’re not too busy doing…whatever it is you’ve been doing these last two weeks.”
Superman was quick to respond in turn, “What I do with my time is not really your concern, Mr. Wayne.”
“It is when the city you’re supposed to be protecting ends up under siege!” Bruce snapped irritably.
“Well, maybe Gotham should have done a better job of keeping their criminals in custody.” Superman jabbed, narrowing his eyes at him. “And what exactly is your part in all of this, Mr. Wayne? Last I checked philanthropists and owners of international corporations didn’t call the shots when it comes to the prosecution and capture of criminals.”
“Last I checked neither did you,” Bruce countered icily.
The hardened features on Superman’s face sent a chill down Bruce’s spine, but he didn’t dare back down. Superman’s retort came with a sneer, “Have your commissioner call Metropolis P.D. to make arrangements. I’ll see what I can do to help.” A blast of heat vision hit the computer Lucius had been using earlier. “Don’t ever use that thing to call me again.”
***
….mandatory curfew for all Metropolis residents after last week’s attack.”
“…terrorists. The city is under siege by a group of thugs and the governor is too chicken to do anything about it.”
“Where is Superman?”
“Seven escaped convicts are still at large after the attack on Metropolis P.D.”
“No one knows who this mysterious shadow is or where he came from.”
“I’m telling you I know what I saw!”
Unable to take the news coverage that continued to tell the tale of the city’s latest attack, Lois clicked the remote and watched the image disappear from the television before tossing the remote on the couch. Two weeks. They couldn’t leave the city for two weeks without everything going to hell.
She let out a heavy sigh turning back to the suitcase she’d been unpacking earlier. Had it really only been a few hours since Clark had flown out that window to find the source of the mysterious attack? Had it really only been a few hours ago that she and Clark had been in blissful ignorance, soaking up the peaceful atmosphere of Nepal before heading home to Metropolis? Had it really only been such a short amount of time since the end of their honeymoon came to a screeching halt?
This felt so surreal. How had so much happened in such a short amount of time? It was organized and methodical. Not at all like the insanity, many of the officers described the assailants to be. Someone was behind this. Someone was pulling the strings. She just wasn’t sure who or what they hoped to gain from their attack on Metropolis.
There were a thousand things she wanted to do to start digging into the source of this turmoil, but she knew it was too late. She would have to reach out to her sources in the morning. She glanced toward the window uncertain when to expect Clark back.
‘Please be careful,’ she silently pleaded.
***
<<“Denetto escaped with several members of his gang. I don’t know how but he’s out there, and he’s made himself right at home here in Metropolis.”>> Clark flew over Hobb’s Bay, scanning the city as he did a third patrol, looking for any sign of the gang of criminals Bruce Wayne said had escaped. The city was quiet. Eerily quiet. No one was out. Police patrolled the darkened streets, leaving the static to their radios as the only sound he could pick up.
<<“Harvey Dent got a hold of something…dangerous. I’m afraid it’s what cost him his life.”
“What was it?”
“Kryptonite,” >> He’d heard the stories about Harvey Dent and his fall from grace as the top district attorney for Gotham. The man had taken on every thug and mob boss and made an attempt to clean up the streets of the now slum-ridden city only to become the very criminal he’d sought to bring to justice. Insanity was bred among Gotham city’s criminals and multiplied faster than the police could lock them away.
Now those same criminals were making their presence known in Metropolis. What’s worse, they had gotten their hands on Kryptonite. A shudder ran through him as he recalled his last encounter with the deadly substance. Thankfully Diana Stride was still locked away in Federal prison for her crimes, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t told someone about it. Trouble was brewing. Had been for several weeks it seemed.
<<“That is if you’re not too busy doing…whatever it is you’ve been doing these last two weeks.”
“What I do with my time is not really your concern, Mr. Wayne.”
“It is when the city you’re supposed to be protecting ends up under siege!”>>
<<“Last I checked philanthropists and owners of international corporations didn’t call the shots when it comes to the prosecution and capture of criminals.”
“Last I checked neither did you,” >> His emotions ranged from anger to guilt to anger again at the realization that he would always be torn between his duties as a protector of this city and now as a husband and hopefully one day a father. The doubts that crept inside his mind were quickly squashed back down as he continued his patrol. He refused to feel bad about leaving the city for the last two weeks. He refused to feel guilty about taking his honeymoon with his wife. No matter how badly Bruce Wayne wanted to guilt him about his absence, he knew the decision to leave was the right one. After everything he and Lois had been through they needed that time together.
He was just about to call it a night when the alarm from the Metropolis Men’s Penitentiary sounded. The radio frequency of a local patrol car reached his ears, and he heard the distress call come in.
“All units we have a 4532. Suspect, Rollie Vale is considered armed and dangerous.”
Another call came in on the radio, “Backup is requested. All units respond. Metropolis Penitentiary Tower is in distress.”
“Riot on Block C, E, and A. Repeat, backup is requested.”
Clark zeroed in on the distress calls, making his way toward the prison as the signal went dead. The roar of smoke and flames from the watchtower at the Metropolis Penitentiary was threatening to spread. The chaos from down below filled his mind as he flew into action, saving the guards from the wrath of angry prisoners looking for revenge.
***
A private jet came into land on a private airstrip just outside of New Troy. The pilot announced their arrival to his passenger as the plane came to a stop. He looked around the deserted airstrip, wondering why someone worth billions of dollars would wish to land in the middle of nowhere and no form of transportation out of the deserted airfield they were in.
His question quickly was answered when he heard the sound of a chopper outside. He looked up and spotted a red and white helicopter coming into land a few feet away. His passenger called out to him. “I believe that’s my ride,”
“Have a good evening, Mr. Church,” he called out to him.
***
Clark quietly climbed beneath the covers next to the sleeping figure of his wife, catching a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand that read, 11:59. He’d scored the city but found no sign of Rollie Vale or the other escaped inmates. He still wasn’t sure what to make of the mysterious figure the guards said had tied up a few of the inmates or how a smoke bomb had gotten inside the prison. There were plenty of things he and Lois needed to look into. Namely, Bruce Wayne and his appearance in Metropolis. He wasn’t sure how much he could trust the billionaire or what his connection was to Johnny Denetto’s gang. A shudder ran through him as he recalled the news of what Harvey Dent had gotten his hands on before his death.
Kryptonite.
The poisonous meteorite that would always be a thorn in his side and pose a threat to both himself and his family. He looked down at Lois wrapping an arm around her as he prepared to drift off to sleep. A sleepy sigh escaped her lips, “Clark?”
“Go back to sleep, honey,” Clark whispered, pressing his lips against her forehead. “It’s after midnight,”
“Everything okay?” she asked, still not opening her eyes as her head moved to rest against his chest.
“Fine,” he ran a hand across her cheek. “I’ll update you in the morning,”
“I love you,” she mumbled sleepily against his chest. Her arms looped around him lazily and he could make out the soft breathing as she drifted back asleep where he was soon to follow.
***
Vice President Morgan Johnson made his way through the darkened halls, following his secret service agents through the turns at a rapid pace. A flicker of light came from the flashlight being held by the agent in front of him, and the chirping of the radio came in as they entered the hidden bunker that led to the safe house.
“This way, Mr. Vice President,” one of the agents called out to him.
***
Lex took a long puff from his cigar, looking around the dark corner of the club he was in. The lights from the stage flickered as the dancers moved to the music. He reached for his glass of bourbon, tapping his other hand on the polyester fabric of the tablecloth.
“Is it really wise to be seen in public before the announcement,” a voice from behind him spoke up.
Lex looked over and saw his new business partner standing in the corner with a large packet in his hands. He waved the man over and nodded, “Mr. Church, I take it Mr. Falcone’s updated you?”
“You certainly are making a habit out of cheating death, aren’t you, Mr. Luthor?” Bill Church Jr asked as he pulled up a chair, taking in the intoxicating sounds and views coming from the stage.
“They can’t hunt you if you’re dead,” Lex remarked smugly, taking another sip from his bourbon. “…or in a country that doesn’t extradite,” he smiled back at the young man.
“Well you got to hand it to the Russians, Lex,” A smile teased Church’s face, “The communists’ hate for America runs so deep they won’t turn anyone over.”
“I love politics,” Lex smiled, “They’re so simple –and yet easy to sway those in power to do my bidding.”
“Our bidding,” Church corrected, handing over the file. “Don’t forget who’s been bankrolling your operation for the last five years,”
“Lest we forget who approached who, Mr. Church?” Lex replied coldly, taking the packet from the table and ripping it open.
“You do know when this hits the papers there will be a super problem on all of our hands,” Church reminded him. “You still haven’t told us how you plan to deal with that freak in a cape,”
“Superman will be far too busy to worry about anything you or I are doing, Mr. Church,” Lex remarked, pulling out the judgment from the large stack of paperwork. On top, the court order read ‘Void’ on the certificate of death that had been issued during his escape from Metropolis Men’s Penitentiary.
“The boys are ready,” Church responded carefully. “Just be sure your…men are able to hold up your end.”
***
Lights flickered through the United States Naval Observatory as agents swarmed the vacant grounds. Each agent looked to one another, hoping the other had news. An alarm sounded in the distance, and the faint call from down the hall could be heard, “The President of the United States…”
Dressed in a crisp black suit and tie was the President of the United States with his White House Chief of Staff. The first secret service agent clicked his heels together to stand at attention as each agent followed suit. He let out a shaky breath as the president stopped in front of him.
“Where is the Vice President, Agent Thomas?”
“We don’t know,” came the agent’s stumbled response, “We don’t know, Mr. President,”
***
Comments Go Here
