Injustice
Folc4evernaday
Chapter 7: Get Ready Cuz I've Had Enough
________________________________________
Three Years Ago..
Bill Church, Supermarket Mogul Head of Intergang?
By Lois Lane and Clark KentPerry White wore a broad smile, feeling a skip in his step as he pushed his way through the double doors leading into the hallway where Franklin Stern’s office was located. He nodded recognition to his secretary Beatrice and tightened his grip on this morning’s edition of the Daily Planet. Another big win for the Planet.
He reached the end of the hallway where Franklin Stern’s office was, noting the new finishings on the door before reaching his hand up to knock on the door and make his presence known. A gruff bellow could be heard from behind the door, “What do you mean? Of course, I’m insured!”
Perry’s eyebrows rose as Franklin Stern’s voice grew more animated throughout the call. He reached his hand up to knock on the door, noting the frantic waving Stern was doing from the corner as he beckoned Perry inside the office. “Well, I would love to see you try. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”
With that, Stern slammed the phone down with a ferocious growl, “Yellow-bellied crooks. The whole lot of them.”
“Crooks?” Perry’s jaw tightened as he stood awkwardly in front of Stern, unsure if he should be taking a seat or preparing to go into battle.
“The nerve of them.” Stern continued, tapping his chest proudly. “They want to accuse me of slander?
Me? They run tabloid trash. I run organizations that report the news.” Stern’s face grew grim and he pointed to the door. “You may want to close the door, Perry.”
“What seems to be going on, Mr. Stern?” Perry asked, walking toward the door to close it.
Stern waited for the door to close and then took his seat, leaning back in the leather seat with a frown. “The Daily Planet is being sued.”
________________________________________
Clark felt a smile curl across his face as he watched his wife proudly gaze across the front page headline exposing Bill Church as the head of Intergang. After months of investigating they had finally gotten what they needed to expose the criminal mastermind. It had been a long time coming but they finally had enough to print the story that would expose Church to the world.. He followed her inside the awaiting elevator car, taking a sip from his coffee cup, “I see the DEA finally got back to Perry.”
Lois let out a short snort, shaking her head, “I still can’t believe they made us hold this story for a week.”
“Well, to be fair it was an international scandal what with Church’s involvement with terrorists and drug smuggling. Project Valhalla was just the tip of the iceberg.” Clark observed, looping his arm around her waist as she gave him an astonished expression. “You know as well as I do how hard it is to cut through the red tape.”
“Well, at least it’ll be a nice welcome back gift for Jimmy,” Lois amended, twisting her mouth into a soft ‘o’ before changing the subject. “Either way, I’m glad Bill Church is sitting on the front page finally exposed to the world for his crooked ways.”
Clark’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead and he let out a chuckle, “Gee, Lois, tell me how you really feel.”
Lois bit her lower-lip, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’ll just be glad when we’re done working with the DEA on this one.”
“Me too,” he agreed, reaching over to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “These late nights with Agent McCord have been killing me..”
“Well, I don’t see Agent McCord here now,” she whispered in a conspiratorial tone. She reached up to adjust the knot on his tie, chewing her lower-lip as she quietly agreed with him and simultaneously drove him crazy with the simple gesture. He moved his hand to cover hers, quietly taking in the feeling of having her in his arms for the short elevator ride up to the newsroom.
The last two weeks had been hard on the both of them. Superman continued to be pulled into several different directions amid politicians hammering Murray Brown for a quick photo-op. Even the many, many he had turned down required his time to navigate how to turn them down without coming off too harshly. Then there was the day to day activities of keeping up with the criminal element in Metropolis. Superman lately had taken up more of his day to day activities which left him frustrated with the lack of hours in the day. Not a small task when he and Lois were both running on fumes with juggling between the blur of a year Jon’s first year had been, the Planet, and Superman duties it seemed as if there was no reprieve from it all.
He and Lois had worked through the criminal element as if they were trading villains at a Comicon over the past year. Even in his hay day, Lex Luthor hadn’t been quite as bold as some of the criminals looking to make their mark and prove their worth to the city. The last year had been hard on both him and Lois as they navigated through Jon’s first year and attempted to figure out the balance between nurturing their marriage as newlyweds and giving one another the support they needed as they both learned how to navigate through his new adventure of parenthood together. For the most part he felt they had found a balance that worked for them, but there were of course the occasional weeks or months that stood out. Namely this last month as they struggled to work through the never-ending investigation into Intergang.
After his confrontation with Church just before the hearing against Skins gang member, Baby Rage he had found himself faced with having his word under scrutiny when he went to the DA for help. It was then he knew that bringing Church down would have to be done by Clark Kent, not Superman. Martin Snell had eventually crawled out from the rock he’d been hidden under and caught in a car bombing. Baby Rage had been killed by a shiv on his way to trial. Everyone surrounding the case had disappeared. And continued to find themselves in harm’s way, but for whatever reason the crime that had riddled the city suddenly disappeared overnight. But he and Lois knew the threat was there and now finally Bill Church was going to pay for the crimes he had committed and the pain he had caused.
Lois fingered the silk of his tie with her index finger, meeting his gaze before leaning in to capture his lips with hers, tugging him to her by his tie. He felt her lips vibrate against his as a groan escaped her lips. His hand moved to cup both sides of her face, cradling her in his arms as he savored the quiet moment he had finally been able to steal away from the rest of the world.
He let out a low groan when he felt her hand move across his chest, tracing the outline of his tie against the fabric of his dress shirt. He let out a labored breath, resting his forehead against hers, stroking her cheek with his palm. “I love you, Lois Lane Kent.” He let out a low chuckle as her index finger moved to the knot of his tie, “But if you keep this up we’re going to be making a pit stop to the stairwell...and possibly be even more late than we are already.”
She let out a soft giggle, “Perry will get over it.” She looped her arms around his neck, “We could just stop on the next floor and…” Before she could finish her unnecessary coaxing the elevator doors opened up on the newsroom floor and the booming voice of their editor reached their ears. She gave an apologetic smile, “Oops.”
He let out a chuckle, leaning in to kiss her once more before extracting himself from her arms to face the bellows coming from their editor’s office.
________________________________________
Headlines soared off the newsstands. Every channel had something to say about the latest news piece. Theories and speculations were debated on every channel. Finally having enough, Bill Church Jr. clicked the television off as he paced around his office angrily.
He reached over to answer the phone and snapped, “Well?”
“Mr. Church?” came the voice of one of the engineers employed by Intergang, Gene Newtrich and Bill Church Jr. let out an aggravated sigh.
“What is it, Gene? I’ve got to keep the phone lines open.” Church tapped his hand across the desk irritably.
“Of course, Mr. Church,” the line went dead and Church sighed, shaking his head as he turned to hang up the phone. A sharp grunt of frustration escaped his throat when he saw Gene Newtrich standing in the doorway of his office, holding up a small metal box. He waved him in, annoyed at the frustrating prospect of working with Gene. He had been hired on to research what they knew about this mystical Kryptonite that was rumored to have fatal effects on Superman. He still wasn’t convinced of the meteorite’s existence given it had been nearly a year of Newtrich’s firm working on this project with no fruition.
Church folded his hands across his desk, giving the best pretense of being patient he could sum up and looked to Newtrich with a pained smile and gritted teeth as he muttered out, “Yes, Gene, what is it?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Mr. Church,” Gene grinned back proudly, setting the dirty mud-covered box on the pristine surface of Church’s desk, tossling dirt and mud across the surface.
Church was just about to argue when Gene flipped open the box and revealed a glowing red stone inside. A large- crystal-like stone that called to him in a way that sent goosebumps through his nerve endings and filled his heart with joy all at the same time.
Afraid to jump to conclusions or make too big of a fuss, Church cautiously examined the crystal-like stone sitting in front of him. “Is that…?”
“I’ve had three different labs examine it. Compared to the journals we surfaced from Bureau 39’s warehouse this has all the properties of what Jason Trask described as ‘Kryptonite.’” Gene Newtrich responded happily.
“I thought Kryptonite was supposed to be green. This is red.” Bill Church Jr. eyed the substance before him critically.
Gene Newtrich pulled out a report from his back pocket, “The labs can’t determine what the difference in color means but it’s one molecular cell off from what Jason Trask described.”
Church raised an eyebrow at Newtrich unsure what to make of the admission. In any substance one molecular cell could make all the difference. “Will it kill Superman?”
“We don’t know,” Newtrich sighed, raking a hand through his thinning hair.
Church nodded, pushing the box back toward Newtrich, “Well, then I suppose we should find out. We’ll need is a field test. Of course, that means we have to send someone expendable. Someone we at Intergang won’t miss if they wind up in jail.” He turned to Gene, “How about you, Gene?”
“My pleasure, Mr. Church,” Gene replied warily.
“Perfect.”
________________________________________
Present Day…Lois handed Jon the small plastic measuring cup filled with purple liquid, raising an eyebrow at him when he stared at it suspiciously. He opened his mouth to argue and she held up a finger, “Come on, Jon, you’re not going to get any better without taking your medicine.”
‘For now,’ Lois thought inwardly. So far, Jon had not taken after his father’s immune system, being just as vulnerable to the cesspool of sniffling noses and upset tummies as the next toddler. Over the weekend Jon had turned from having a mild fever to what her mother and his pediatrician had diagnosed as the flu. After a week he was feeling a little better than he had in the previous days but still had his lingering fever to battle. And battle he did.
“But…it’s yucky,” Jon argued with a harrumph.
“And you’re still sick,” Lois tapped on the measuring cup with her index finger. “Come on, bud, just get it over with and then you can curl up on the couch with cartoons and your Grammy.”
Jon peaked over Lois’ shoulder, spying where her mother had set up shop with Lucy to help watch him while she and Clark met with Jack this afternoon. Though she knew he was over the worst of it she still was nervous leaving him when he was sick. But given the promise that Lucy would call if he took a turn for the worse and the fact that Jack and his contact at the HRO might be her only shot at finding out what had happened to Lilith’s sister she had talked herself into the arrangement. The constant battle with parenthood and her career continued to put her at odds with herself lately. Last week she had worked mostly from home, trying to help nurse Jon back to health and though she knew Perry understood she couldn’t help but wonder if the choice would be met differently if she had a boss that wasn’t like a second father-figure to her.
“All done,” Jon grumbled, handing her the measuring cup back and making a grimace as he tried to get the taste off of his tongue by repeatedly patting at the taste buds of his tongue with his hand.
“Here,” Clark walked up behind them and handed Jon a small plastic cup of water. “You be good for your Grammy and Aunt Lucy.”
Jon set the cup down and frowned, letting out a defeated sigh as he tried to debate internally about something he was mulling over. Lucy walked over and set a hand over Jon’s shoulder, “Hey, buddy,” she pulled out a stuffed Scooby-Doo from behind her. “I was out earlier and found this guy. Is he yours?”
“No…” Jon grinned back at his aunt.
“Are you sure?” Lucy asked, shaking the plush dog from side to side. “He seems to
rrrreeaaalllly like you.” She leaned the plush toy toward Jon to have it give him a peck on the cheek.
“Thanks for doing this,” Lois said, giving her sister a grateful smile. “If I could have put Jack off any longer, I would have.”
“It’s fine, sis, really,” Lucy flashed her a quick smile. “Mom and I’ve got this.”
“Have a good time with your Aunt Lucy and Grammy,” Lois said, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek one last time before making her way to the door. She turned to where her mom had setup a small stack of movies, “Mom? Call if you need anything. We probably won’t be more than a few hours.”
“Go!” Her mom ushered her out. “I have watched my grandson before without incident.”
“I know,” Lois nodded, trying to voice the sudden hesitancy that had washed over her. “Just…call if you need anything.”
“I will,” Her mom helped open the door for her and gestured to the front balcony. “Now…both of you….go.”
“Thanks, Ellen,” Clark gave her a grateful smile and took Lois’ hand in his, walking with her out the door.
“I think she was trying to get rid of us,” Lois harrumphed, walking down the steps leading to the walkway in front of their townhome.
“You may be right,” Clark said, following her down the steps.
She let out a sigh, making her way down the street to the corner which led to the alleyway Clark usually changed in. She looked over her shoulder, stealing a glance toward Clark who was a few paces behind her. She took one last longing gaze to the front door of the townhome, “I really hate leaving him like this.”
“I know,” Clark said, looping his arm over her shoulder. “But your mom used to be a nurse. Jon’s in great hands and we’ll be right back. It’s just a quick trip downtown.”
“On a Saturday,” Lois grumbled irritably. “I guess these non-profits never got the memo about weekends what with their whole save the world with everything on the line…”
“Hmm, sounds like a certain reporter I know.” Clark teased, tightening his hand around hers.
“I…took breaks.” Lois argued half-heartedly noting her husband’s teasing smile.
“Sure, between disasters, right?” Clark leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek.
“Hey, I’ll have you know some of those disasters got some pretty big awards,” Lois grinned back at him, toying with the collar of his blue polo shirt.
“Well, that just changes everything doesn’t it?” Clark chuckled, shaking his head.
Lois threw her head back, laughing as they stopped at the back alley at the end of the street, and Clark looked over his shoulder, checking to make sure they weren’t being watched before ducking inside to change into his Superman suit with the crest smoothly printed across the front. A few years back, Martha had opted to change the way the emblem was stitched on making it a cleaner look and lighten the fabric of the cape, so it was less resistant when he was flying.
“Ready?” Clark asked, leaning over to scoop her in his arms.
She nodded, resting her head across his chest, preparing herself for takeoff as she cast one last glance at the townhome. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her mom. She did. She just hated having to leave Jon when he was sick and she especially hated that he was missing out on the trip to the park with his friends he’d been looking forward to. Of course, his friends were probably where he had gotten sick to begin with. One thing parenthood had taught her was there was never enough days off in the year to keep up with flu and cold season. Daycares were like a cesspool, breeding new concoctions of the two at the worst possible times.
“Jon is in good hands,” Clark whispered, stroking her cheek as they flew through the air. “And hopefully Jack and his team were able to find something out about Esma.”
“I’d really love to have some good news to tell Lilith,” Lois sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder.
“Me too.”
________________________________________
Dan Scardino ran a weary hand across his face, noting the grim appearance in the mirror and let out a deep sigh as he leaned forward to splash some water against the rough skin surrounding the bottom half of his jaw.
‘That’s what happens when you let yourself get burnt, Danny-boy.’He shook his head, splashing the water against his face once more and squinting his eyes closed as the image of Jenna faded from his mind. The painful present never failed to taunt him with memories each day. A reminder of what had been taken from him day in and day out.
‘No,’ Dan tightened his jaw as he patted aloe to the sunburned patches on his jaw and hissed out a painful grunt.
‘Not today. I’m not going to get lost in it today.’He reached for the towel on the sink, patting his face dry and then turning to the files spread across the bed from the evening before. He had been tracking his way through the better half of Europe for at least half a year, tracking this guy down, but had finally got a sighting. An ad for a singles column of all things had drawn him here.
Dan felt his blood boil as he stared at the faded black and white photo stapled to the scribbled notes he’d translated from the files he’d been able to extract from Turkey officials. The name Schiller was repeatedly mentioned by the individuals interviewed but no one seemed to know where this Schiller was or where he’d come from. He suspected the mysterious Schiller was involved but that hadn’t been what had drawn him here.
Omer.
Omer Demir.
The name had haunted his nightmares for years from the time he had heard the name uttered by Jenna in her investigation into the drug ring in Brazil and the eventual capture of a serial bomber that had been tied with the cartel. The name kept coming up. Demir had a special hold on the twisted individuals he pulled into his world.
Jenna had been convinced this guy was a bigger fish than what Washington initially thought.
Now after nearly six years of radio silence he had popped up in a prominent city with an ad for a good time and casual listening. Dan’s grip tightened on the photo, wrinkling it under the pressure of his fist. He could feel his fury simmering beneath the rage-filled heart that boiled his blood each day.
“I’m gonna get ‘em Jenna,” Dan promised, stealing a glance over at the photo he had pinned on the nightstand.
________________________________________
Clark walked through the open space of the Metropolis Museum of Art, gazing toward the tall glass windows that hovered over the gallery. The collection of art pieces from one of the local colleges was on display with a small plaque below the display with the school’s name. Just off to the corner he found the hallway where several classrooms were setup.
Jack had asked him and Lois to meet him here, hinting he had some information in both missing persons cases they were investigating. Esma – the young teenage girl that had gone missing just a few blocks from her home. Her sister Lilith was the lonely voice, screaming for justice from anyone who would listen. Thankfully she had found Lois, but finding anyone who could do something seemed to be the bigger challenge.
The justice system he had promised to uphold felt unrecognizable. Here was a child missing and yet the usual departments and organizations that should be clamoring to bring her home were silent. No one wanted to talk about it. No one wanted to bring attention to this innocent life that was at risk. Why would anyone try to help hide something like this?
Then of course there was the disappearance of the young girl, Ingrid he had rescued a few months ago. She had gone missing from the Fifth Street Mission nearly minutes after she’d been interviewed by the police according to the staff. It still felt odd that no one had thought to mention her disappearance to the police. Then again, everything about these investigations into these two missing girls felt strange.
He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly.
Were they kidnappings?
Was it something more?
He had come across some of the more devastating tendencies of man when he’d first begun exploring different parts of the world after college. The world could be a beautiful and amazing while at the same time being vindictive and cruel. Some of the worst parts of humanity could be found anywhere in the world, but one thing he’d come across was how desperation brought out the worst in people. Third world countries where wealth didn’t come from fine minerals or materialistic things but rather one’s ability to inflict their power over those weaker than them.
Slavery had been abolished decades ago, but in its place was the black market of human trafficking and with it children and other innocents being sold to the highest bidder. The pitch-black darkness that lurked in the shadows of the underworld were the things of nightmares and everything that went bump in the night. As much as he hated to even think it the lack of ransom demand or even a public cry for attention from the captors. The deafening silence continued to gnaw at him, wondering if these two innocents had been swallowed up by the worst humanity had to offer. Though he had no proof he couldn’t shake the deep pit of his gut that told him they were missing because someone didn’t want them to be found.
“There’s Jack,” Lois reached her hand over to point to the end of the hallway where Jack was standing.
Clark nodded, seeing his friend in the doorway with an older Middle Eastern man who was wearing a traditional sherwani and a dark brown Chitrali cap. Jack motioned to the man behind him and nudged him, “These are the friends I was telling you about.” He then beamed back at Clark, “Glad you guys could make it.” He pointed to the man behind him. “This is Mr. Demir. He’s one of the founders of the HRO chapter I work with.”
Lois’ eyebrows rose a hair as she exchanged a questioning gaze with Clark before responding with a quick smile, “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Demir.”
“Omer,” he corrected in a thick Middle Eastern accent. Omer Demir’s eyes twinkled as he flashed a half-smile in Clark’s direction gripping the wooden cane tightly in his palm and tapping it against the tile floor in front of him.
“This is Lois Lane and Clark Kent. They’re the reporters I was telling you about.” Jack introduced them as they walked inside the classroom they’d been standing outside of.
“Yes, I see,” Omer nodded, reaching over to turn the light on. The can tapped in an uneven rhythm as he made his way across the room.
“Mr. Demir teaches part-time to some of the children in the halfway houses up the block.” Jack explained, pointing to the desk in the corner. “He’s been able to help us rescue a lot of at-risk kids.”
“Children are our most vulnerable asset,” Omer set his cane down as he took his seat behind the desk, digging through his desk drawers until he found what he’d been searching for.
“An interesting way of looking at it,” Lois commented, raising her left brow. “I would think they’re our strongest assets. Afterall, they are the future generation to inherit what we leave behind.”
“Yes, of course,” Omer’s face flashed between annoyance to this fake tolerance he was trying to portray.
Clark pondered for a moment if he should press Omer and size up just what he was trying to hide but opted not to pursue it. They needed information and even though the man helping them might not be the most forthcoming person he was at least helping them – for now. “So, you helped found the HRO group Jack’s been working with?” Clark tried to steer the conversation toward the HRO in hopes of drawing more information out of Omer. “What was that like?”
“I saw a need to reach out and help everyone in the world have the basic human rights protected. Every country has its own version, but no one really enforces it. So, I put together a small group and decided to do something about it.” Omer said proudly, picking at a piece of lint on his pant leg.
“And the treaties with other countries didn’t get in the way?” Lois inquired, resting her hands on her hips as she pursed her lips. “I mean, even the UN can’t get inside the borders of Iraq. How exactly do you expect your group to?”
“Well, it helps having this group scattered around the world.” Omer winked at her, sitting up in his chair. “I don’t need to break down any borders because I have people there already. There are no politics to negotiate. Just human rights being fought for and protected. A universal goal.”
“And an honorable one at that,” Jack added proudly. “It’s been amazing watch the good this group has brought around the world.”
“Hmm,” Lois nodded, seeming to be sizing Omer up as she relented. “I suppose that’s one way to go about making a difference in the world.”
“Not all of us can go crusading in with a cape and big ‘S’ Ms. Lane,” Omer offered a half-smile. “Not that I wouldn’t welcome the help if he ever offered it.”
Lois nodded, turning her gaze to Clark and then back to Omer. She seemed to be equally suspicious of him but remained quiet on her feelings. Clark followed her lead and cleared his throat, “Jack mentioned you two were able to find something on the two girls that went missing?”
“Yes, yes,” Omer tapped the file in front of him, flipping it open and revealing the familiar surveillance photos of the bus stop where Esma had disappeared from. “We have a few connections with the company that manages surveillance for banks and many of the corporations around the city. It’s not exactly clear, but we can see what happened.” He slid the top photo to the side and revealed the gut-wrenching image of the young Esma being grabbed from behind and a needle being lodged in her throat by a captor that didn’t even bother to cover his face.
“Oh, my God,” Lois breathed out eying the open file in Omer’s hand before clapping a hand across her face, trying to hide the obvious effect the photo had on her. Clark reached over to place a protective arm around her shoulders, holding her close just as she let her hand fall, finding her voice to ask. “Is there anything you can tell us?”
“This man,” He tapped on the photo. He pushed a black and white photo of a middle aged man with piercings and a snake tattoo across his neck forward, matching the man in the photo of Esma being kidnapped. Clark grimaced as he glanced at the photo, wondering if his suspicions on Esma’s kidnapping were correct. “His name is Walter Kaplan. Low-life thug for hire.”
“Any idea where we can find this Kaplan?” Clark asked, fighting the urge to grab the file from Omer and find the answers out himself.
“Unfortunately, the only place you’d be able to find him is the morgue,” Jack answered, pulling out another file folder and handing it to Clark. “He was fished out of the bay last week.”
“Someone didn’t want him to be identified,” Lois noted, reading the file from over his shoulder as she pointed to the details listing out how Kaplan had been tortured by burning off his fingerprints.
“His
teeth were removed?” Clark’s face tensed as he read through the sadistic torture Kaplan had been met with at his death.
“Tox screen found cyanide in his system,” Lois read aloud with a grimace.
“Many of the human trafficking organizations condition their teams to accept resignations with a bullet to the head.” Omer said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sure Kaplan was no different.”
“Human trafficking?” Lois’ voice cracked as she said the words aloud. “So, you think that Esma’s been…?”
“More than likely sold to the highest bidder.” Omer responded, tapping his cane on the floor in front of him.
“Where?” Lois breathed out her question holding back the floodgate of emotions that were flashing across her face as best she could. Clark reached his hand over to take her palm in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“There are a few,” Omer commented, “but the group specifically that Kaplan was working with has ties everywhere. This Intergang that once loomed the streets of Metropolis was taken over by them. Now instead of drugs and guns it’s girls and children that are sold off.” He shook his head. “She was an easy target.”
“But where is she now?” Clark asked, growing frustrated with how much information Omer appeared to know about this Human Trafficking ring and yet the most important piece of information he and Lois desperately needed – where Esma was – remained an open question.
“She could be anywhere,” Omer answered, shaking his head. “No one knows where the girls go.”
“Kidnapped on her way home from school on a crowded street,” Lois glanced at the photo on the desk in front of Omer. “How does something like that happen?”
“It isn’t the first,” Jack said solemnly, passing Clark another file.
“What’s this?” Clark asked.
“You asked about another young girl.” Omer answered. “It’s all in there.”
Swallowing back the lump in his throat from the frustration that flooded through him, Clark flipped the file open and saw an eerily similar looking image of a much younger twelve year old Ingrid exiting a coffee shop and being drugged and kidnapped in the same manner.
‘Why didn’t I hear the cries for help?’ Clark found himself chastising himself, carrying the guilt of the pain these girls must have been subjected to. How could something like this happen and he not hear it? How could he not know?
“Can we…take these?” Lois asked, her voice cracking from the weight of the emotion that hung over them both.
“Those are copies.” Omer answered with a nod. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help to you. I wish you luck in your search.” He motioned toward the door. “I wish I had more time but I’m supposed to be teaching the watercolor class in a few minutes.”
“Thanks for your help,” Lois said, tugging Clark by the arm as she gathered up the file on Omer’s desk and tucked it in her arm.
“Thank you,” Clark nodded, exiting the classroom with Lois, not sure what to say. He looked back at Jack whose expression was no better than his own.
“I wish it was better news, guys. I’m sorry.” Jack apologized.
“At least we know what we’re dealing with.” Lois said shakily, resting her head against Clark’s shoulder. “That’s a start.”
“Well, I won’t keep you guys, but just let me know if I can do anything. I’m still tracking a few other leads from pleas for help we’ve gotten.” Jack grimaced, running a hand through his hair.
“How many?” Lois’ voice cracked as the question escaped her lips.
“What?” Jack asked.
“How many children? How many are out there? Kids snatched off the streets like this and no one is looking for them…” Lois shook her head in dismay. She was quiet for a moment, clamping her hand over her mouth and bolting from the hallway they were standing in, tossing the files she’d been holding to the ground.
Jack reached out to grab Clark’s shoulder before he could follow and responded solemnly, “Clark, no one knows.”
Clark’s brow furrowed, unsure what to make of Jack’s response and then Jack elaborated. “There are kids and even grown adults snatched off the streets everyday and sold into this nightmare of a world. No one knows how many are out there. I wish I had a better answer.”
Clark hung his head, patting his friend on the shoulder, “Just stay safe.”
“Look, I want to find these missing girls as bad as you guys do. Maybe we can put our heads together and see what we can come up with?” Jack offered, leaning down to help Clark gather up the file Lois had dropped in her hasty exit.
Clark nodded in agreement, “I’m not going to turn down someone that’s willing to help look for these girls.” He gestured to the doorway Lois had sprinted out of. His super-hearing picked up his wife’s heartbeat around the corner where the blinking light for the restroom was. He sighed, wondering momentarily if the sudden bout of illness was the same thing Jon had or if the information they had just uncovered had more to do with it.
“I’ve got to go check on Lois.”
“Sure thing. See you around.”
________________________________________
Lois let out a heavy sigh, resting her arms across her knees as she stared out into the distance where the passersby moved across the street and buses turned around the corners and the world continued to turn as she tried to make sense of the information she had recently discovered from Jack’s friend, Omer. How trustworthy the information was still yet to be determined but if even half of it was true that meant evil at its darkest core still lurked out there.
“Lois?”
She jumped, startled by the sound, then blew out a breath of relief when she saw Clark standing behind her. “You okay?” Clark asked, kneeling on the steps next to her.
After nearly ten minutes of her being holed up in the restroom she had made her way to the nearest exit. It seemed the close quarters with Jon over the last week had caught up to her. That or her mind had become so revolted by the idea that children were being sold as commodities in underground markets her body had physically reacted.
Lois reached up to swipe a tear from her face, “I’m not okay. Not okay in the slightest,” She breathed out with the shake of her head. “She was twelve years old when she was kidnapped. Esma was at least sixteen. I can’t even imagine…”
“I know,” Clark said hoarsely, reaching over to place a hand over hers.
“We can’t be the only ones that are looking for them. We can’t be.” Lois shook her hand in fury, trembling as the tension from the tight grip she held shook it back and forth.
________________________________________
Three Years Ago…“Barry Barker is naming the Daily Planet as well as both of you individually in the lawsuit,” Perry advised, taking his seat across from where both Lois and Clark were seated.
Clark looked over the summons Perry had handed them both when they had been called into Perry’s office earlier. The short-lived victory of finally being able to name Bill Church as the head of intergang had hit a sour note almost immediately. “He’s got to be joking,” Clark scoffed. “We’ve got the evidence!”
“Well, I spoke with legal this morning and no one thinks this will stick, but there is some concern from Mr. Stern that this might turn into a drawn out court battle.”
“Don’t tell me he’s thinking of settling with this bottom-feeder!” Lois chastised. Her voice raising a few octaves with each word she uttered.
“Like it or not, this is still a business, Lois and having the Daily Planet’s name drug through the mud – no matter how frivolous this suit might be is bad for business.” Perry said letting out a heavy sigh. “Now, I know you two have been working on this story since November and have put a lot of work into it, but…”
“No, buts.” Clark immediately cut him off. “Perry, this is exactly what he wants us to do.”
“Clark, the evidence tying Bill Church to Intergang is circumstantial at best.” Perry let out a heavy sigh, raking his hand through his thinning hair. “Now, I understand it was enough for us to print and the warrant for Bill Church is still active, but the fact of the matter is we are vulnerable.”
“What do you want us to do, Chief?” Lois asked, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Print a retraction and say ‘Oh, sorry folks Bill Church only looks like he’s completely compromised and running all the crime in this city for the last four months. Our bad. But the police are looking for him and he isn’t returning anyone’s calls.’” Lois leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “I might as well start writing a column for the National Whisper about Oprah’s Latest Diet!”
“What does Mr. Stern need to make the case stronger?” Clark asked, fighting back the frustration he was feeling.
“Proof. Real undeniable proof that Bill Church…”
“And his son,” Lois interjected.
“Now, Lois you don’t know that!” Perry argued, shaking his head adamantly at her.
“Perry, this is the same argument we had three months ago. Everybody on the street knows it.” Lois threw her hands up in the air for emphasis. “Bill Church has been running Intergang through Southside for months with the help of his son. With Bill Church in the wind who do you think is calling the shots now, his pet gerbil?”
Perry shook his head, refusing to listen to any more of Lois’ arguments. “Lois Billy isn’t like that. He’s a smart businessman that pulled himself up from his boot straps and helped build some of the biggest corporations in the world. Satellite cable. Dial Up Internet. Your first mobile phone carrier. That was Billy! He’s just not a criminal. I’ve known him since he was old enough to spit up on me.”
“And that’s supposed to make him innocent?” Lois asked sarcastically, crossing her arms in defiance.
Perry wasn’t budging, “Billy is a smart kid. He wouldn’t allow himself to get caught up in all of this. I remember when he used to caddy for me and his dad. Heck, he wouldn’t even take over the Cost Mart stores. He left those to be run by the board members. He’s not a criminal, Lois. A smart businessman and a little ruthless in corporate takeovers but who isn’t? He’s one of the biggest philanthropists in the country.”
“And the biggest fake,” she snapped.
“Lo-is…” Clark reached a hand over to try and calm her down.
“Look, I’m not going to back down on this, Perry. It’s not just the Planet at risk here. It’s both of our reputations and everything we have worked for up until now.” Lois fumed aloud. “I’ve worked too hard to overcome bullies like Barker and the Churches. I’m not just going to bow down and let them run over us and I don’t think Mr. Stern should either.”
“Then I’m going to need you both to put all your efforts into proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bill Church is completely complicit in the illegal activities performed by Intergang.”
________________________________________
Elena Johnson tapped her hand across the open file in front of her, skimming over the report that had just been sent over by the NIA on a suspicious death of one of the ambassadors in Qatar. She glanced over the report, feeling a sense of déjà vu wash over her as she read through the very familiar details. Another unexplained death with vague details and nothing to go on.
“Hey, Johnson, you got a visitor,” Jack Davenport pointed to a scruffy looking man over in the corner waiting to be checked in by one of the agents.
Elena frowned, tucking her light brown hair behind her ear, pondering who the stranger could be. She pushed away from her desk, standing up from her seat, reaching her arms over her head to stretch before turning back to the front where she could see the visitor through the double pane glass that separated him from the back office where the rest of the agents were seated in their cubicles. She reached for her badge hanging from the corner of her cubicle and strung it around her neck before heading toward the reception desk to check on her unnamed guest.
“Oh, Elena, I was just about to call you,” Tracy, the front receptionist said, setting her phone back on the cradle and turning in her direction as she opened the glass pane door. She gestured to the unnamed guest, “Agent McCord, Agent Elena Johnson.”
“Agent?” Elena asked, reaching her hand out to shake the mysterious Agent McCord’s hand.
“DEA,” He flashed his badge, revealing his status as a field agent for the field agent for the DEA. Elena took a quick glimpse at him, biting her lower-lip as she hooked her thumb into a loose belt loop and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate more. McCord cleared his throat and broke the awkward silence. “I guess you’re wondering why I’m here?”
“Given I’ve never met you before that’s probably a good place to start,” Elena folded her arms over her chest, awaiting his response.
“The DEA has been following some cases on and off with drugs coming into the U.S. by way of illegally entering citizens, shipments and even some carry-ons have been used to smuggle the drugs in.”
“Okay,” Elena tightened her jaw, not following where this was going.
“One of the leads we were chasing came up against one of the cases tied to you, Agent Johnson.” McCord shrugged his shoulders.
“How so?” Elena asked.
“You were investigating the disappearance of an ambassador in Germany?” McCord asked, looking in his notebook for information. “A Louis Myer?”
“The ambassador that was killed in the shootout in Yemen?” Elena nodded, recalling the name as another official that had been killed unexplainably in a location completely foreign to his sovereign nation.
“My sources place him in Qatar at the same time a large shipment of this mysterious new drug we’re tracking was supposedly shipped out.” McCord flashed her a quick smile. “I may be going out on a limb here but it’s a bit too coincidental for my book.”
“And what? You want the FBI to help track down your drug ring?” Elena asked, not following.
“I was hoping you might be able to help me figure out if there’s anything to it,” McCord shrugged his shoulders. “I can take it from there.”
“I’ve been working this case for over a year,” Elena argued.
“And have you gotten anywhere?” McCord challenged. “Look, I don’t want to step on your toes. I just need to know if I’m barking up the wrong tree or not.”
Elena shook her head, “I’m unaware of any drugs being found at the scene of Louis Myer’s death. You’re welcome to talk to the Medical Examiner and the team that surveyed the dump site though.” She flashed him a scowl, “I hope you’re up to date on your Turkish.”
“Never mind,” McCord held his hands up. “I’ll take your word for it.” He tucked his notepad in his jacket. “Thank you for your time, Agent Johnson.”
“Anytime.”
________________________________________
Lois walked with Perry and Clark toward the elevator doors, still reeling from the bombshell that had just been laid on them. She stole a quick glance in Clark’s direction wondering just how they would be able to pull off what was being asked of them. If they had more time to work on this she knew they would be able to find the physical evidence to prove Bill Church Sr. and Bill Church Jr. were running Intergang beyond a shadow of a doubt. Now, of course they were being forced to race against the clock.
A race against time that put both her and Clark personally on the hook which could potentially tap them both out for their coverage for the year. All of that to say if they were forced to settle or worse it was found that there hadn’t been enough evidence to back their theory. Both scenarios she knew were a worst-case scenario but given the uncertainty that loomed over her apprehension filled her thoughts at the potential hopelessness of putting her trust in the courts.
“Do we know what the Planet’s attorneys are planning to respond with?” Clark asked, stepping onto the open elevator with Perry.
Lois followed, noticeably quiet as she mulled over the news Perry had laid on them. Months. They had spent months trying to prove again and again that Bill Church Sr. was behind Intergang. Though Clark had received the confession from Bill Church Sr. as Superman there wasn’t enough evidence to help back him up. And putting Superman in that position when he was still trying to ear the world’s trust back wasn’t something either of them were willing to do.
Martin Snell’s murder had been a hard blow to the case they had been trying to build and once his testimony was gone their case had gone up in flames. Though she wasn’t sure how she was determined to find the missing link they needed to put the final nail in Church’s reputation and put to rest any uncertainty of his criminal history.
“They didn’t really say much,” Perry grumbled, running a hand through his thinning hair. “Anyway, this won’t take too long. We’ll go over the investigation with them and see where we can expand to ensure no settlement comes to fruition.”
“You seem pretty confident there, Chief,” Lois remarked, letting out a heavy sigh, folding her arms across her chest.
“Well, I know with my top reporters focused on this we have nothing to worry about,” Perry smiled, straightening his jacket as the doors to the elevator doors opened, revealing a circle of armed men with pistols aimed on them as Perry let out a short, “What in the Sam Hill?”
“Don’t move!” the man in the center ordered, training his pistol in Perry’s direction.
Lois glanced in Clark’s direction who nodded, seeming to be inching his way toward the doors that were now being held open by a metal bar that one of the assailants had positioned between the open doors. The first gunman waved his pistol in Perry’s direction before reaching into the elevator car and jerking him out forcibly.
Clark straightened up, seeming to almost stop mid-stride as he blinked, watching Perry be tossed to the ground like a rag doll. Lois yelped in surprise as she and Clark were soon to follow being ordered to huddle in the corner of the lobby where Todd, the clerk that ran the newsstand was cowering next to Perry along with other patrons.
“Now, if everyone does as we say no one gets hurt. Got it?” one of the gunmen taunted, firing a shot into the ceiling.
The elderly lady next to her let out a shriek in surprise and before Lois could react she felt the blur of wind brush against her cheek. She looked back to the corridor where Clark had been sitting next to her moments ago and then turned her head to where the gunmen were standing around the register of the newsstand, emptying it out.
“Where is he?” one of the gunmen whispered in an aggravated grunt, seeming to be looking for something.
She felt the pit of her stomach twist as she glanced toward the corridor where Clark had disappeared down, wondering if he was checking on Jon before taking care of the gunmen. However her silent question of where he was quickly was answered when the blur of red and blue filled the room and he appeared in the front of the Daily Planet lobby with his arms folded across his chest in his famous Superman pose.
“You boys are going to have to wait in line like everyone else,” Clark called out as one of the gunmen emptied out the candy shelves. “I hear that stuff rots your teeth.”
Lois bit back a chuckle as she glanced over to where Perry was seated, wondering what was going through his mind as he watched Clark race into action. She smiled to herself, watching Clark address the leader of the gunmen with certainty. “Drop the weapons and no one has to get hurt.”
“What if we don’t want to?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Perry grumbled under his breath.
Lois watched in horror as Clark stood there and shrugged his shoulders, “I….”
The gunmen dropped the gun on the counter and pointed to the door, “No guns. Just taking our money and leaving Superman.”
Lois felt her jaw drop in shock as Clark just stood there and did nothing as the gunmen continued to empty the register and shelves from whatever they wanted.
“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Perry shot up from where he was seated. “You don’t get to storm into my paper here and call the shots.” He looked at Clark and jabbed him in the shoulder, “Superman, do something!”
Lois watched as Clark looked around the lobby casually seeming to be almost bored as he let out a yawn and asked, “Why?”
“Why?” Perry echoed in a shout as his face reddened. “They’re robbing the Planet!”
“So?” Clark scoffed nonchalantly, looking around unamused as he added. “I’m sure the Planet is insured.”
“They’ve got guns!” Perry argued, frantically pointing at the gunmen that were unfazed by Clark’s presence while at the same time ignoring the commotion Perry was making.
“They’ve put them down.” Clark pointed to the weapons that had been laid on the countertop in front of them.
“But…It’s your
job!” Perry’s voice boomed with his disheartened plea as his face fell, watching as Clark backed away from him. Lois watched the scene unfold, unsure what to make of Clark’s bizarre behavior and too shocked to find her voice or move from where she was crouched down on the floor next to the other hostages.
“Not really,” Clark shrugged, disappearing into a blur of red and blue.
“What in the Sam Hill?” Perry shouted as Lois watched the gunmen disappear through the rotating glass doors, firing off shots into the sky as they laughed, taking the money and goods they had retrieved.
Lois blinked, looking around, unsure how to process what had just happened. Chaos erupted around her as sirens approached and she searched the lobby for a sign of Clark’s return.
Lois frowned, gazing across the disarray of chaos throughout the lobby. Something had to have happened to Clark to make him not even try to stop the gunmen. She couldn’t understand how Clark could just stand there and do nothing. It wasn’t like him.
“What just happened? Where did Superman go?” the elderly woman next to her asked, craning her neck to look over Lois’ shoulder.
“I don’t know.”
________________________________________
TBC....
Comments Go Here
