Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Clark TOC can be found
HereWhere we left off in Part 131 “Well, you tell your boss that the hostages are hungry because they never got their pizza order, so send up a couple of extra large cheese pies and some soda while we think about what we want to do next,” Fuentes said, hanging up.
“All right,” Jimbo said, relaxing into his chair with a smile. The rest of them looked to him in amazement. “What? I’m hungry.”
Perry pulled an apple out of the fruit basket and tossed it to him.
“That should shut MPD up for a while,” Fuentes told Remy. “I’m almost through to the vault and I don’t need electricity or light for the blowtorch. If he calls back, tell him we want him to set free a couple of the criminals Lois Lane and the Daily Planet have put away over the years, in exchange for our hostages.”
“Which one?” Remy asked, gazing over a list she pulled from her pocket.
Fuentes shrugged. “Does it matter? They’ll think it political, and it’ll buy us more time.” He looked over her shoulder at the list. “What about that guy?”
“Kyle Griffin? Isn’t he a gunrunner?” she asked.
Psycho is more like it, Lois corrected in her mind. She glanced back at Perry, and saw that he too remembered Griffin from her first big story.
“Sounds good to me,” Fuentes said with a smile. “You keep an eye on the hostages, in case they get any crazy ideas.”
“Terrific. We’ll have the money, but no way to escape,” Remy retorted.
“We’ll contact our helicopter pilot to fly back by with a rope ladder,” Fuentes said.
“I should shoot these people now,” Remy said, gazing at them through the window. “They’re more hassle than they’re worth.”
“They
were. Now, they’re our bargaining chips to freedom,” Fuentes replied, putting his safety glasses back over his eyes and starting up the jackhammer once more.
*
Part 132“Who’s Kyle Griffin?” Clark asked, after he and Lois returned to their seat at the conference table. Once more she sat down on his lap. He didn’t know if it was out of habit, because she wanted to, or just to confuse the terrorists into believing they were still handcuffed together. Frankly, he didn’t care what the reason was, he was happy to have her there.
“Lois, darling, why don’t you sit here?” Luthor asked, setting his hand down on the chair between him and Clark. “You’re no longer handcuffed to Kent.”
“
We know that,” she informed Luthor in a quiet tone. “But
they don’t. It’s better if Miss Eagle Eyes over there doesn’t notice anything amiss.”
“Well, I still don’t like it,” Luthor murmured under his breath.
Clark doubted anyone else heard him. Clark moved his hand, which was closest to Luthor, and rested it on Lois’s lap, knowing it was in full view of the billionaire, and earned himself a glare for his efforts. If he had only known how easy it was to push Luthor’s buttons… okay, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, being who Luthor was and what he could do, but while they were trapped in this room, Clark would press any little button he liked to annoy Luthor. At the moment, he’d take the victory, no matter how small.
“My first big story was an exposé on the illegal arms business. It led to the FBI arresting twelve people. Kyle Griffin was at the top of the list,” Lois explained.
“When was this?” Clark asked. The story seemed familiar. He must have read about it during his research on the dimension when he first arrived.
“Four to five years ago,” Perry said. “Griffin was arrested for selling high tech weaponry to the third world, wasn’t he?”
“His firm did the selling,” Lois said with a nod. “Kyle did the designing. He’s a genius when it comes to electronics. Rumor has it that he hates my guts. During his trial, he promised to come after me when he got out. Of course, if I had a dollar for every criminal who said that to me, I’d be as rich as Lex.”
“Terrific,” Clark grumbled.
Another psycho from whom Lois needed protection. Who knew keeping Lois safe would be a full time job? Not that he minded. Better to keep her safe than deal with the consequences of the alternative. “Let’s hope he doesn’t get released any time soon then.”
“Right there with you, Chuck,” Lois agreed, using her pet endearment for him and bumping her arm against his in a slow caress.
“The police want to save our lives, but they won’t risk thousands more by setting free people like Griffin,” Perry reassured them.
“Then we need an alternative plan,” Luthor said. “What will happen if the power goes out? Will we have any lights?”
“There’s some emergency lighting in the bullpen,” Perry said, pointing out to the main newsroom. “And in the stairwells, but nothing in the offices or this conference room.”
“We need to make sure the power doesn’t go off, then,” Clark said. “We don’t know what will tip Fuentes into detonating his bomb.”
“I still think Superman is the answer,” Lois interjected.
Clark saw Jimmy look to the ceiling as if he were thinking ‘Here we go again’.
“Lois,” Jimbo spoke up before Clark could. “That guy is afraid of Superman, paranoid afraid, especially now that Superman has taken out his guys downstairs.”
“Jimbo, I don’t think…” Clark started, but then realized he had no way to prove it
wasn’t Superman without revealing things he didn’t exactly want revealed to everyone in this room and a couple of people in the next room.
“Clearly, Clark,” Lois said, playing on his pause.
“That’s not what I meant,” Clark retorted.
Lois patted his face. “That’s okay. Everyone knows that I’m the brains of our partnership, and you’re just the brawn,” she teased.
“Thanks,” Clark answered wryly.
“I wish he’d stayed at the Metropolis Star,” Luthor grumbled again under his breath.
It was a strange thing to say. Luthor was usually so on top of the news. He knew about it before others did, often because he influenced it in a similar manner as Carpenter had. For Luthor not to hear about the Planet’s undercover sting operation on Carpenter and the Met Star seemed implausible. Perhaps that wasn’t what Luthor had meant at all. Possibly, he had just wanted their partnership and Lois’s friendship with Clark to remain split up.
Clark studied him for a solid minute. Luthor had been acting peculiarly all night. Of course, everyone acted differently under trying circumstances. Clark had always suspected Luthor for his abduction, mostly because he disliked the man, and he didn’t have any other real suspects, but Luthor never seemed to have a motive. Was it just a simple case of jealousy? Had Luthor seen Clark as an obstacle to his conquest of Lois? Did Luthor like Lois enough to have him killed?
A chill passed down Clark’s spine, and he tightened his hold around Lois’s waist.
Did Luthor know he was Superman? Was that how Clark had ended up with a Kryptonite watch stuck to his foot? Had Luthor exposed Clark to the Kryptonite watch on purpose or inadvertently? It had been a woman’s watch, not a man’s. Had Luthor made the watch for Lois, as he had with the LoLex watch? His breath froze inside his throat with horror at the thought that Lois could be the means someone like Luthor would try to kill Superman. Up there with the curse, it was one of his worst nightmares.
“I should offer them more money,” Luthor suggested, breaking through Clark’s thoughts. “Maybe they’d free us for sixty million on top of whatever they get out of the vault.”
Was that Luthor’s answer to everything? Clark wondered. Just throw money at a problem and see if it went away? It was how he approached charitable giving, so why not?
“It sounded like they were upset mostly about their getaway plan falling apart. If Superman were to offer them a viable escape route…” Lois said, returning to her previous point.
“Which he won’t, darlin’,” Perry reminded her.
“We don’t know that. Superman wants to get that bomb out of the city as quickly as possible, just as the rest of us do. If he gave Fuentes and Remy his guarantee not to turn them over to the MPD, they may be desperate enough to agree to it, no matter how scared of him they are,” Lois countered. “Surely, they would see it as a better plan than blowing themselves up.”
The jackhammer in Perry’s office stopped, and they all turned automatically over to see what was happening.
“He’s starting to shovel out the concrete from the hole he made,” Jimmy said, being the nearest one to the office. “It looks like they’ve found the vault.”
“Terrific,” Lois grumbled. “Time’s running out.”
A few minutes later, Fuentes stopped shoveling and pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket. “We found it,” he told the person on the other end of the line. “We’ll need to be picked up in twenty, maybe thirty, minutes…What do you mean, ‘you can’t do it’?... well, then just drop us a rope ladder and we’ll climb up to… Look, it’s just the two of us now.… No, of course MPD won’t catch us. They’re on the ground. They won’t be expecting us to leave by helicopter. They assume we’ll negotiate for something stupid like a bus to the airport. By the time they realize what we’re doing, we’ll be gone… I promise you, Superman isn’t a problem…We
had a deal, Stevens! You can’t leave us here, high and dry… You’re throwing away an easy mill. If we go down, so will… Stevens!... Stevens?” Fuentes shut his phone, throwing it on the ground.
“Now what?” Remy demanded.
“Our helicopter isn’t coming,” Fuentes said, holding up his hand seemingly to block her onslaught of anger. “Let’s just finish the job, and we’ll figure out the rest later.”
“What good is thirty million going to do us, if we can’t leave the building?” Remy asked.
“They’ll have to let us leave,” he reminded her, holding up his bomb. “Or I’m flattening Metropolis.”
Remy crossed her arms and stared at him. “So, do you want to call MPD and ask for a stupid bus to the airport, or shall I?”
“Let’s just get the money out before they turn off the lights,” Fuentes said, picking up the blowtorch and safety glasses. “Meanwhile, I’ll think of something.”
“I’ve decided that ‘thinking’ isn’t your strong suit, Fuentes. I say, let’s ask the brains in the next room what they can come up with to save their lives,” Remy suggested, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb towards the conference room.
“Superman,” Lois whispered in Clark’s ear again.
“No,” Clark hissed back.
“It can’t hurt to ask him,” Lois said. “Talk to him and see what he recommends.”
Clark still had his arms wrapped around her waist, pretending that they were handcuffed together. He shrugged his shoulders to give her a slight squeeze to remind them of their current predicament. “And how do you propose I do that?” he asked.
Even if they could convince the terrorists of Lois’s plan, there was no way the terrorists would let Clark out of their sights. Of course, if he could convince them to let him talk to Superman, maybe Superman would have time to apprise the MPD of their situation and together they could come up with a foolproof plan to rid the terrorists of the bomb without having any danger come to the hostages.
“Actually,” Remy said, stepping closer to the conference room and pushing open the door with her gun. “If I recall correctly from all that Daily Planet research you made me do to prep for this gig, Lois Lane and Clark Kent tend to get more than their fair share of interviews with our resident superhero. Maybe
their safety is all the pull Superman needs to do our bidding.”
“See! This is exactly what I…
he wanted to avoid,” Clark whispered into Lois’s ear.
Lois turned and faced him, her face just far enough away that they could look each other in the eye without going cross-eyed. “Are you really trying to convince me that Superman would allow harm to come to
any hostage threatened with death just because he didn’t know them personally?”
Would he risk the life of a kidnapped girl used as a bargaining chip against Superman any more than he would risk Lois’s life? No. Would he be any less frightened if he saw a little boy dangling from the side of building instead of Lois? No. Would he live the rest of his days without torment and self-blame, if a stranger’s life ended instead of Lois’s, because Superman hadn’t done everything he could to save their life, even if it meant bending the laws he treasured so dearly? No. Even now, he sometimes woke up drenched in sweat having relived the end of someone’s life he hadn’t been able to save.
Lois was right, Clark realized, and his shoulders fell in defeat.
The tall pillars of inner-strength crumbled inside him as the awareness that Superman had this huge weakness, which made him vulnerable to more than just Kryptonite and Lois Lane. He suddenly realized those fears that he had had all those months ago, when Lois had tried to convince Superman that they could have a relationship – his fame and superhero status be damned – despite his reservations for her safety, were ungrounded and illogical. True, kidnappers could and probably would use Lois against him more often, but would that guilt be significantly less if it were anyone else? Clark would never forgive himself if Lois, or Perry, or either of Jimmys, or Cat, or the Kents, or any number of nameless, faceless people out in the world died because of him. Lex Luthor? Well, maybe him not so much.
“Okay,” Clark said, finding his voice in this newly discovered void. “You’re right.”
“See,” Lois said in her usual confident tone. “Isn’t it easier if you just realize that I’m always right, straight from the…?”
When she paused, he glanced up at her, wondering why she had stopped speaking.
“Clark?” Lois murmured. “Oh, no, no, no, Chuck, I didn’t mean…”
“No?” he asked softly. A spark of hope flickered inside his dark cavern of despair. Lois had once called Superman a marshmallow, and she had just proved the analogy to him. If that was not what she was referring to, what exactly had she meant then?
“It isn’t a weakness, Clark,” Lois said, resting her head against his. “Superman’s love is what makes him strong. His capacity to care is what powers his gifts. These abilities aren’t what make him super; he is super because of who he is, because of what lives deep inside his core, because of his heart.”
“You,” Clark whispered, closing his eyes and breathing in the strength that Lois was giving him, her unfailing love and belief in him.
“I hate to interrupt this endearing moment, but have you decided which of you is going to contact Superman and which of you is going to stay here to die if your partner doesn’t return?” Remy asked.
Lois stood up. “I’ll stay, and Clark will talk to Superman,” she announced. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”
What? Her words startled Clark to his feet. “Lois, no!”
“I’ll be fine, Clark,” she told him, looking him directly in the eye. “Superman would never let any harm come to me.”
“Superman wouldn’t let harm come to anyone,” Clark corrected her.
Apparently.“He didn’t stop this bullet in my shoulder,” Luthor grumbled.
Clark glanced over at Luthor. “If he is able.”
And is so inclined.“I see that you got out of my handcuffs,” Remy said with a sneer. “Again.”
Lois shrugged.
Remy grabbed Lois’s arm and tugged her away from Clark. “You have fifteen minutes to go up to the roof, contact Superman, and bring his answer back here.”
Clark took a step towards the women, and Remy raised her gun under Lois’s jaw. He took a step back. “What’s the question?” he asked, knowing that no matter how quick he could be, he wouldn’t risk Lois’s life to bet he was faster than that bullet.
“It’s more of a proposal than a question,” Remy responded. “We want Superman to guarantee us safe passage in exchange for releasing all of the hostages unharmed. If you don’t return within fifteen minutes with his response, I’ll shoot her.”
***
Asabi stepped away from the Speedy Ambulance, which had just pulled up next to the parking garage of the Daily Planet. He had hired them to take the Lex-Clone back to Lex Tower, where they would then turn it over to one of Mr. Luthor’s private doctors to administer its care. He had already telephoned Dr. Leek, informed him of the shooting, and told him to contact Mr. St. John down in Lex-C’s private quarters to arrange the necessary medical staff. Although Dr. Leek had visited the secret lab in the Ark where Mr. Luthor kept his clone, he had never left Mr. Luthor’s private quarters within the L.U.C., been exposed to any of the Ark residents, or even knew of their existence. As far as Dr. Leek knew, the private elevator went down to Mr. Luthor’s secret laboratory, and that was it. Asabi was sure that was the way Mr. Luthor and Mr. St. John would wish to keep it.
The ambulance had picked Asabi up outside of Lex Tower, after he returned the limousine to Mr. Luthor’s private garage. As part of the terms of their hire, the Speedy Ambulance Service gave Asabi a uniform jacket to wear as so to appear as one of the crew, allowing him to sneak back through the police lines. He added a dark navy baseball cap to the uniform to shade his face. He disliked removing his traditional turban, but as a member of the Indian Military Intelligence, he had gotten used to going undercover. He had first trained as a medic before being recruited into the Intelligence branch and, therefore, knew enough of basic triage to play the role convincingly. It would be better if the MPD didn’t know that Mr. Luthor’s chauffeur was waiting within the police boundaries for the safe return of his boss. Asabi also wouldn’t want Ms. Grant to be reminded that she had informed him that the terrorists had shot his boss, or for him to be singled out as a possible suspect in the getaway driver’s death.
A motor scooter with a big red box in the back buzzed up to the police lines.
“Yo! Detective Tuzzolino! Someone over there order a couple of cheese pizzas and a six-pack of cola?” one of the patrolmen in charge of crowd control called toward a group of men in suits gathered around one of the cars at the front of the cordoned-off area in front of the building.
Asabi saw that inside the car was the old Daily Planet security guard who had told him that Mr. Luthor and Ms. Lane had already left the building, and that it was closed for cleaning. The group shifted as its members looked towards the patrolman, who had yelled at them regarding the pizzas, and he saw that Ms. Grant was in the group and the only woman included.
It surprised Asabi that the MPD’s Hostage Task Force gave the society columnist such access to their discussions. Then, again, she did have insider information regarding the hostages, the terrorists, and the building.
One of the policemen, a slightly balding man in a cheap suit, separated himself from the pack and approached the patrolman and the deliveryman on the bike. “We need to borrow your hat and jacket,” the detective informed the teen.
“No way, buster. I’ll just take my twenty bucks. I’ve got three more deliveries to make in the next twenty minutes,” the deliveryman said, taking a step back.
“Tell you what,” the detective suggested, holding out his money. “How about you loan us your hat, while you make those other deliveries, and then come back before returning to Metro Pizza to pick it and your tip up?”
The deliveryman thought about it a minute and shrugged. “Better be a nice tip,” he said, taking the money and handing over the hat, pizzas, and soda.
“It will be,” Tuzzolino assured him.
Asabi shook his head in amazement as the detective handed the hat and food over to a young patrolman who was dressed in a red windbreaker and jeans. He watched them lead the new deliveryman through the front door of the Daily Planet. This wasn’t acceptable to Asabi. If the MPD continued in this vein, it could be hours of negotiation later, before a possibly dead or near-dead Lex-Clone would finally be allowed to leave. They needed to do something to expedite matters, not sit around and play the negotiation game, and they needed to do it before the real Mr. Luthor found out what was going on.
***
Lois’s demonstration of trust in Superman steeled Clark’s resolve. Fuentes, who didn’t care for the plan when Remy had announced it, nevertheless walked Clark to the doorway and watched as he headed up the stairwell to the roof to contact Superman. As soon as Fuentes was sure that Clark wouldn’t go back on his word, he returned to the newsroom, and Clark flew the rest of the way up to the roof. He had only ten minutes to talk to Henderson, Tuzzolino, and whomever else the MPD had working this crisis to come up with a workable plan and return to the conference room with Superman’s answer. Although Remy had technically given him fifteen minutes, Clark decided he wouldn’t ride out the clock returning.
He disliked leaving Lois and the others without his protection more than he liked putting his faith in Remy that nothing would happen to Lois before he returned, but not by much.
Not knowing whether S.W.A.T. sharpshooters or media cameramen were watching the Daily Planet’s roof for action, he had spun into his blue suit on the way up the stairs. He had debated on his flight up the stairs whether Clark or Superman should talk to those on the ground. Clark decided it would have to be Superman, merely for the ease the hero would have extracting himself from any conversation if he were suddenly needed back in the newsroom. He couldn’t risk anyone’s life for the extra time he would need to find a vacant alley and change his clothes.
“Superman!” Cat gasped as he landed behind the group discussing matters around the hood of a sedan patrol car with Willie sitting inside. “I’m so glad that you’re
here.”
*
Inspector Henderson turned at Cat Grant’s words and indeed, he saw Superman standing with his hands on his hips behind them. Bill suspected that Cat knew more than she was willing to admit, but then so did he. Even though he had interviewed Superman after that incident at his… Kent’s apartment, it always made Bill pause to think that Perry White’s friendly protégé was actually Superman in disguise.
Kent’s romance with Lane necessitated that he kept his heroic duties separate for her protection. Without a doubt, Lane was more tolerable a person with Kent in her life, so as long as Bill’s not knowing worked for them both, Bill was willing to plead ignorance.
After the S.W.A.T. team had snuck into the Daily Planet and secured William “Willie” Robertson, Henderson and Marco Tuzzolino, former S.W.A.T. member and the only certified Hostage Negotiator on duty, had decided to lift the radio silence. Willie was a murderer and the former right hand man of 1920’s gangster Pino Dragonetti. The Daily Planet had then turned around and hired Willie right after he was released from prison to
carry a gun and protect its workers and building. And, no, Bill wasn’t planning on letting White ever live that down.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on things, Ms. Grant,” Superman reassured her as he stepped up to Henderson’s group. “Clark informs me he spoke to you and Inspector Henderson about the grave matters up in the newsroom.”
“Yes. Clark told us about the bomb, Superman,” Inspector Henderson said. “Have you spoken with him? Has he escaped?” He knew that mentioning Clark would be necessary in their discussions, if only to give the man an alibi in front of the other MPD officers present.
“He’s on the roof, now, awaiting my return,” Superman informed him. “They have sent him to me with an ultimatum.” He then launched into his dilemma.
According to Kent, the terrorists wanted to bypass the MPD and extort Superman to do their bidding in order to free the hostages. Superman didn’t want to do their bidding as dictated, but he wasn’t sure how exactly to accomplish that feat.
“I do not wish to bow to the demands of any criminal as it would set a terrible precedent and make me a useless pawn in such situations, but I do not see another way to save Metropolis from the destruction of a possible nuclear bomb,” Superman said, finishing his explanation.
“I may have an idea,” Henderson said. He smoothed out the map, which Tuzzolino had laid out on the hood of the car, before launching into his suggestion.
Bill happened to have watched a black and white television show from his childhood with his daughter that morning before his shift. In the old “Adventures of Robin Hood” show, Robin’s secret identity as Robin of Locksley was compromised by a couple of un-merry thieves. They had threatened to turn Robin over to the Sheriff of Nottingham, if Robin didn’t start giving them a cut of his ‘stealing from the rich to give to the poor’ haul. Bill’s idea would mirror Robin Hood’s deal with the thieves in spirit, but keep Kent… er… Superman from breaking his so-called promise to the terrorists. It would also allow them not to get away scot-free either, but hopefully with not such dire consequences as the thieves from the show.
As Bill finished explaining his plan, he saw Officer Morse, in a Metro Pizza hat and a red windbreaker, emerge from the building.
“What did you discover?” Tuzzolino asked him.
The patrolman paused in front of Superman in awe. With a nudge from Henderson, the undercover policeman finally spoke. “Um… The woman terrorist wouldn’t let me approach the conference room and verify the condition of the hostages. From my vantage point, I saw a glimpse of only a couple of the men, one of whom had his shirt unbuttoned and stained. The other was much younger and eating an apple.”
“The first man would have been Lex Luthor,” Superman clarified. “He was shot while trying to escape earlier in the evening. It was that shot, which drew my attention to the incident, but then I learned of the bomb and the terrorists’ threat of deploying said bomb should they catch sight of me. I’ve been biding my time for an opportunity to intercede.”
“As you did on the floor below with the other terrorists,” Tuzzolino commended with a nod.
Henderson looked to see how Superman would address that serious misnomer, since he had been tied up on the floor above when the others had been incapacitated.
Wisely, Superman decided to ignore it for now. “I can assure you that the five other hostages were still alive and reasonably well in the conference room when I left Clark on the roof just a few minutes ago. I only just have time to give Clark my response.” He turned to Inspector Henderson. “I hope…”
It was at that moment that a fire truck and ambulance arrived with their sirens blaring, interrupting him. Henderson found it bit odd that a second ambulance would have come being that a Speedy Ambulance had arrived shortly before Superman had.
“Someone go tell those firefighters that we can’t work with that blasted noise,” one of younger detectives yelled as he waved at a nearby uniformed officer.
Superman waited patiently for a minute for them to turn off their horns, so that he could speak without interruption again. When the sirens finally were switched off, the silence that followed was equally as deafening. Yet, instead of speaking, Superman turned his gaze briefly up the Daily Planet building before he took off like a rocket.
***
Twelve minutes earlier…“How could you allow Kent to be freed to contact Superman?” Lex demanded. “Either I, as the injured party, should have gone, or Lois, as…”
Lois glanced away from the doorway, through which Clark had just exited, to raise an eyebrow at Lex and to dare him to continue with his sexist statement.
“Lex, I doubt you, in your current condition, or me, without havin’ being shot, could have climbed those stairs to the roof without falling down dead afterwards, let alone in fifteen minutes. Lois, in her heels and party dress, wouldn’t be faster than Kent,” Perry explained.
“It would’ve have been a close race,” Lois said, defending her physical abilities.
Perry shot her a ‘yeah, right’ glance before continuing as if she hadn’t interrupted. “And neither of the Jimmys have a solid rapport with the hero. Lois was right. Kent’s the logical choice.”
“It still wasn’t proper,” Lex scolded. “Lois, you shouldn’t have volunteered yourself to remain at risk. I hate that you’ve had to endure any of this and do wish you had taken this opportunity to save yourself.” He stood up next to her, pulling Perry who was still attached to his other wrist along with him.
“And leave the rest of you here to die?” Lois replied.
“If need be,” Lex said.
“Nobody’s dying,” Perry insisted, before turning to Jimmy and holding up his handcuffed hand. “Get this thing off me.”
“Look what I found!” Remy announced, returning from Perry’s office with a roll of silver duct tape. She pointed at Lois and then at the chair.
Lois reluctantly sat down and the woman started spinning her around, pinning her biceps to the chair with each rotation.
“I’d like to see you try to escape out of that one,” Remy said, tearing off the end.
She then repeated the process with Lois’s legs. This time, thankfully, spinning Lois in the opposite direction.
Fuentes returned from escorting Clark to the stairwell and headed directly into Perry’s office. Remy joined him and soon all they could hear was the blowtorch burning through Perry’s floor.
“Done!” Jimmy announced.
“Thanks, Jimmy,” Perry replied, rubbing his now-free wrist.
The elevator dinged, and they all looked towards the bullpen. Had Clark returned already?
Lex and Jimbo approached the conference room windows.
“It’s the pizza guy!” Jimbo announced.
Remy went out, took the pizzas from the guy, and shooed him back into the elevators. Then she came into the conference room and dumped the pizza boxes and cans of soda on the table.
Fuentes came in from Perry’s office, flipped open a box, and drew out a slice of pizza. Upon seeing Remy’s duct taping job, he proclaimed, “I do believe the only thing missing from this scenario is…” He paused and pulled out the bomb from its position on his belt. “An accessory.” He pushed a couple of buttons on the bomb and handed it over to Remy.
The usually terse Remy seemed overly delighted with the idea of taping the bomb to Lois’s chest and immediately set to work.
“What if you need a hostage to take with you as a bargaining chip?” Lois said as Remy applied layer after layer of duct tape to form an X over the bomb and her chest. “Lex, I’m sure, would pay lots of ransom to have me returned.” She turned to glance at Lex hopefully.
“You needn’t even ask, Lois,” Lex informed her. “I would gladly do so.”
“Not to mention, Clark and I are friends with Superman. If I’m injured, I doubt
he would take it well,” Lois said as Remy applied the last piece of tape. “I had to talk him down after Lex shot me.”
“Really?” Jimmy asked.
“Whoa,” Jimbo said.
Lois looked at Lex’s stricken face and, despite her better judgment and only for the sake of her investigation, reassured the man. “I knew it was an accident, Lex.”
“Of course it was, Lois. I could never hurt you on purpose,” Lex said, and Lois saw admiration in his expression. It was from this expression Lois knew she could use Lex’s affection for her against him and that, as long as Lex never knew she was going to double-cross him, he would never harm her. His statement from her vision of being in love with her still rang true.
“Another word out of you, Missy, and I’m duct taping your mouth shut. Got it?” Remy told her.
Lois started to quickly nod her understanding, but seeing the lights of the bomb flashing against her chest decided against it, and instead gulped and nodded very, very slowly, once.
“I’m through and need your help,” Fuentes announced, wiping his greasy fingers on his pants.
Remy hurried into Perry’s office after him, shutting the door behind her.
They all looked at the pizza and soda sitting there on the conference table, yet none of them moved to touch it, even Jimbo. Lois had to admit, between the duct tape and the bomb on her chest, she too had lost her appetite.
The minutes seem to tick on by as they waited for Clark to return with Superman’s answer and everyone either ignored the pizza or stared blankly at the bomb.
The sounds of an approaching fire engine and ambulance broke the silence. Then the lights in the room went out.
“Hurry back, Clark,” Lois whispered, hoping beyond hope that he heard her. Now, that they had separated the terrorists from their bomb, Clark could take out the terrorists without having to worry about Fuentes detonating the bomb.
In Perry’s office, Lois could hear a scuffle in the dark. Unfortunately, with nothing more than the faint emergency lighting from the newsroom, it was too dark to see anything.
It felt as if five minutes ticked by in the eerie, dark silence. Why hadn’t Superman rescued them or turned the lights back on?
“Let’s get out of here,” Jimmy whispered. She felt his hand on her shoulder. “Hold on, Lois. We’re going for help.”
“Take Lex with you,” Perry instructed.
“I’ll remain…” Lex started to argue.
“You
need medical treatment, Lex,” Perry said.
Lois heard the shuffle of several pairs of feet, and then the door opened and closed with an echoing reverberation.
She was alone in the dark with a bomb strapped to her chest. Unable to raise her voice any louder, she creaked out a dry rasping, “Help, Superman!”
***End of Part 132*** Part 133 Comments The idea Henderson got from watching “Adventures of Robin Hood” show was actually based on “The Stolen Costume” episode from Season One of the original “Adventures of Superman” show with George Reeves. Alas, it doesn't look like he'll be using it after all.
