And you guys thought I'd abandoned it.
Angst warning 
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Henderson shook his head. His job wasn’t getting any easier. “Look, give me a call if you remember anything else. I’m going back to headquarters, see if anything’s come in on him.”
Henderson headed for the elevators, then stopped. “Just out of curiosity, has Superman been seen in the last 24 hours or so?”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen anything on him since that report about the false alarm at Fale’s Jewelers,” Perry said. “Why?”
“Just an idea,” Henderson admitted. “I know Superman’s a friend of Kent’s, so he might have an idea where he is. If you do hear from him, have him get in touch with me.”
* * *
As soon as Henderson was back in his office, he requested all the available information the MPD had on the pervious day’s incident at Fale’s. Henderson was familiar with the area and knew there was an ATM directly across the street from Fale’s. He called the bank and requested the recordings from the ATM surveillance cameras as well. If he were lucky, the recordings would give some clue as to what really happened yesterday at 10:10, when Clark Kent disappeared.
The daily reports were on his desk within an hour. The reports by the two officers who responded to the original alarm were disappointing, at best and deliberately incomplete at worst. They wrote that Superman had arrived, was informed it was a false alarm, and simply flew off.
The ATM record arrived from the back less than two hours later. The video made a lie of the official report. Superman had walked into the alley behind the jewelers. When he came out, he was accompanied by the two officers, and although it was hard to tell from the video, he looked ill. The video showed him being helped into the back of the squad car.
Checking the names on the false report, he sent a request to the day watch officer of the fifth precinct for those two officers be called in and sent to his office. He got a call back from their superior. The two men had failed to call in and their squad car had been reported abandoned near Suicide Slum.
Henderson placed a phone call to a number he had been given five months before, the day after the Daily Planet broke the story about the alien who saved the Prometheus space shuttle.
“This is William Henderson, MPD,” he announced to a voicemail box. “We have a problem. I have reason to believe Superman has been taken.”
* * *
The door to the cell opened, and three men wearing military style uniforms walked in. Clark didn’t see any rank markings or name tags. He tried to keep the fear out of his face. Superman shouldn’t show fear.
Two of the men grabbed his arms, pulling him to his feet, forcing his hands behind his back. He felt shackles round his wrists. He felt the hands of the third man hooking a chain to the collar around his neck. Chained like an animal. He struggled against them and managed to kick one of them. The third man cuffed him on the side of his head for his trouble.
The vertigo and nausea came back and the room started spinning. He began retching. One of them grabbed his hair, forcing his head down as he started heaving. He hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in more than twenty-four hours, so his gut was empty, but that didn’t keep his body from trying as he went to his knees, doubled over.
After a few minutes, he stopped retching and the men on either side of him pulled him upright. They half carried him out of the cell, into the dimly lit corridor beyond. He remembered the corridor from his nightmares and started shivering. The ‘examination’ room was just beyond the next corner.
Fear put strength into his struggling, but it was no use. The men holding him were well trained in subduing unruly prisoners. The third man punched him in the gut and he doubled over once again.
"It will go so much easier for you if you just cooperate, Kal-El."
"And why should I believe you?" he gasped. The two men holding him pulled him upright once again.
"No reason at all," the third man told him. "But we will get what we want out of you. Don't even think about doubting that. One way or another, we will get your secrets."
The man stepped closer, running one finger along the line of Clark's jaw.
"Before I'm done, you'll be begging me to listen to you."
Clark shivered again. He'd been scared before, but this man terrified him. His mouth was dry but he managed to produce just enough saliva to spit in his tormentor's face.
He would not go down without a fight.The man didn't bother to wipe it off. He back handed Clark across the face. "I think it's time we stopped being so gentle," he told his sudordinates as they hauled Clark into the 'examination' room. They didn't bother unshackling him as they forced him to sit down on a metal stool set in the middle of the room.
Clark screamed as the man on his left began breaking his fingers.
