This week's warnings:
1. This part was BRed on the fly. I'd already posted, thinking that my BR wouldn't get back to me before I needed to post, when I was contacted over AIM. Rushed through a few corrections before she had to go to bed, but that's about it.
2. The reason I can't wait is that Mom suddenly decided a couple of days ago that (for various reasons) we had to go to Florida for a week. I have to get up early today so we can make the flight.
3. While in Florida, I'm not sure how much time I'll have to log on or write. I may be late with this week's poll, and I'll probably be late posting part 4. I'll do my best.
4. This part leaves off kind of between things. It's just the way it worked out. Do your best with suggestions. On the up side I've already got a new lead or two planned for part 4, and if you don't come up with much, I'll have less to write which gives me a better chance of being on time. I'd still prefer more suggestions -- makes for a better story -- but, you know... silver linings...
5. There are no more warnings that I can think of at this time. On with the story!
TOC Part 3
Lois's POV
There was only one way to find out what was happening -- investigate! I grabbed a few of the smaller boxes, then left some others scattered near the crates. With any luck, if anyone noticed the missing inventory, they would simply assume that the boxes had fallen out in transit. That done, I carefully made my way back to the Jeep, stashed the boxes, and updated Jimmy.
He'd already taken some shots of the ship and the people unloading it. I wanted some close-ups of the crates and their contents. I hadn't been able to take samples of everything, since many of the drugs which looked to be prescription items had been packaged in large containers. I couldn't have snuck off with one of those larger containers, and the tamper-proof seals would have made it obvious if I'd opened one. Since the contents of those very containers were the ones I most wanted information on, I figured the best thing to do would be to get some pictures of the labels.
Cautiously, I led him to the stack of crates. I checked that he'd disconnected the flash, then pointed to the things I wanted him to shoot. He'd assured me the night lens would pick up enough light for the pictures to be clear, but just in case, I had him take a few shots illuminated by the faint glow of my penlight.
I considered trying to sneak aboard the ship and see what else I could find, but decided against it. I had enough for a solid start. No use wasting any more time here. Clark was still missing, and I was having even more doubts that the tip which had led me here was connected to his disappearance. I'd come to the pier because the timing seemed suspicious. I hadn't been willing to take the chance that there was no connection. Now that I'd found these crates, I'd finish with the investigation, but locating Clark was my main priority. Boarding that ship would not only be putting myself in jeopardy, but it would be hurting Clark's chances of rescue, as well. It wasn't worth the risk.
I signaled to Jimmy that it was time to go. We crept back out through the maze of shipping containers, climbed into the Jeep, and drove off. I kept a careful eye out for pursuit until we were well out of the harbor district. "Jimmy," I said when I was sure we were clear, "I want you to do some digging for me tomorrow. Take down the information from those labels -- manufacturers, lot numbers, anything you can find -- and try to track down where those boxes came from. When you've got everything you can off the labels, let me know. I want to send what we've got to STAR Labs for testing, make sure that those drugs are what the labels say they are. Then I want you to look into that ship. Find out who owns it, where it's been, and what it's doing here."
He blew out a breath, as if overwhelmed by what I'd asked, but then drew himself up. "You got it, Lois. And Lois? Thanks again for taking me along. That was so cool. Sneaking around, taking those pictures... they never even knew we were there! And that camera is amazing! That night lens, I'm telling you --"
I cut him off before his gushing went any further. "You earned it, Jimmy. Besides, I needed the backup."
He practically glowed at that, but then, after a moment, his expression turned more serious. "Lois, can I ask you something?"
For a second, I was afraid he was going to ask me out, but I tossed the thought aside. I was engaged, for heaven's sake! Jimmy deserved more credit than that. "What is it, Jimmy?"
"I was wondering... did something happen to Clark?"
"What makes you think that, Jimmy?" I asked nervously.
"Well, he didn't show up at work today, and then his mom called. I didn't mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, but I was right there and... It sounded like something was wrong. I know you said you were worried about Superman and you thought Clark might be sick, but wouldn't he have at least called in? And why would his mom call?"
Yup. Jimmy definitely deserved more credit than I'd given him. What a time to prove it, though! "Clark is..." What could I tell him? I tried to think quickly. Say he'd gone undercover? Then why would Martha have called? I could say that Clark and I had had a fight, but that had its own problems. There was only one thing to do. "Listen, Jimmy, can you keep a secret?"
"Sure, Lois. I won't tell anyone, I promise."
"Okay. Clark is..."
"Yes...?"
I took a deep breath. It was risky, but I didn't see what else I could do. "He's missing. I don't know what happened to him. I don't have any proof that there's something wrong, and I haven't wanted to add to the panic, but I'm worried. The police say they can't help. With Superman gone, crime's way up, and Clark hasn't been gone for 48 hours yet anyway. I was hoping that tip might have been related, but it doesn't look like it was. I checked his apartment. It looks like someone might have broken in, but I have no solid evidence of that."
"Oh, wow. Do you have any leads?"
"Not much, but I'm looking. I've got some more calls to make tomorrow."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Just look into that ship. There's still a chance it's related to something. I'll let you know if I need anything else. Thanks."
"Sure, Lois. Good luck. ... But what are you going to tell the Chief?"
"I'll let him know, Jimmy, but we'll probably tell everyone else that Clark is out sick."
"If you think that's best..."
"It is, Jimmy. Trust me."
"I do."
"Thanks, Jimmy."
He smiled, but said nothing more. Soon enough, we were outside his apartment. I dropped him off with the camera and the drugs, then drove home. It wouldn't be easy, but I needed to get some sleep so I could get to work in the morning.
******
Clark's POV
I slept fitfully. I was weak, hungry, and probably feverish. I wasn't used to any of it. I needed the rest, though, and my body clearly knew it. So I slept, and I dreamed. Mostly, I dreamed of Lois, but oddly, one of them was about drug smugglers. It didn't really make sense, but then, dreams usually don't.
When I awoke, it was to pain. My captor was back, and it seemed he'd decided it was time for another dose of Kryptonite. Remembering my plan, I tried to look as weak as I could, hoping for minimal exposure. Playing sick, I found, wasn't all that difficult, given how I was really feeling.
When the box closed, I slumped in relief. I waited a while, to gather my strength and to play up my weakness. Then I spoke, in a harsh, struggling whisper. "Who... are you? What do... you want?"
"What do I want?" he echoed, surprise and anger in his voice. "What do I want?! I want revenge! You ruined my life, and you're going to pay for that!"
"Wha... how...?"
"You took away everything I had! You..." He paused. When he spoke again, it was in a much calmer tone. "Never mind that. It's in the past. I'm moving forward. It hasn't been easy, but I'm sure the therapy sessions will help."
"Therapy?"
"Oh yes. It really helps with my anger management. I believe you've met Dr. Greenstone? Here, let me reintroduce you..."
More pain, then blackness.
******
Feb 2, 1996
Lois's POV
When I got to the newsroom, I headed straight for Perry's office. "Perry, I need to talk to you about something..."
"Let me guess. Clark went out looking for Superman and got into trouble."
I blinked. That was certainly a better story than the one I'd come up with, but... "How did you... what makes you...?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "Yodel-a-yodel-a-yodel-ay-hee-hoo."
With his gruff voice, it sounded very odd. "Right. Definitely not the reason you got the job."
He grinned for a moment, then turned serious. "Now, do you have any leads? On Clark or Superman? If Clark went missing because he was looking for Superman, then it seems like the same people might well have them both."
"Nothing solid yet, but I'm working on it."
He looked at me, as if appraising my condition, then nodded. "Good. You need anything, you let me know."
"Thanks, Perry."
Heading back to my desk, I wondered just how much he knew. After a moment, I set the question aside. Time enough for that after I found Clark. So, how to go about doing that? The newest lead I had was about the Kryptonite. Maybe the MPD knew more about Otis Flannegan's death than Bobby. Even if they didn't, I should let them know that his case was probably linked to Superman's disappearance. Whom to call? Bobby had said Flannegan's body had been found in an alley in a bad section of town. That probably meant the Slum. I already knew one officer there who was ready to help me. She'd even asked me to contact her if I found anything related to Superman. With that in mind, I called the 68th precinct and asked for Officer Sawyer.
"Sawyer here." She sounded exhausted. I realized that I hadn't really been expecting to find her. It was morning, and as far as I knew, she worked a later shift.
"Officer Sawyer? Are you okay? Did the shift schedule change?"
"What? Oh, no. We're pulling double shifts, as many of us as can manage it. It's a mess out there, and we need as many people as we can get."
"Well, don't push yourself too hard. You won't be able to help anyone if you exhaust yourself."
"Yeah, thanks. I'll take care. So what are you calling about?"
"I wanted to know if you had anything on an Otis Flannegan. One of my sources told me that his body was found a few days ago."
"I can look. Why?"
"It seems he found a piece of Kryptonite. He'd been planning to auction it off when he got shot."
"Oh. My. ... Right, I'll see what I can find. Thanks. Anything else?"
"Yeah. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the recent rise in gang activity."
"Well, they've definitely become more violent. We've been seeing a lot more fights. Deadlier, too."
"Deadlier?"
"There have been more guns involved. Some of them pretty powerful. Just a few, but enough to cause a lot of damage."
"Any idea where they're coming from?"
"No, we haven't been able to find anything."
"Is there any particular gang that seems to be getting them?"
"No, they're all getting them. Just one or two each so far."
"So someone's supplying all sides. Hmm. Anything else?"
"Well, nothing I can prove, but some of the gang members have been acting kind of... crazy. Taking bigger risks, doing things they shouldn't be able to do. Again, not many, but I've seen at least a few reports. I think it might be some kind of new drug or something, but I'm not sure."
"Hmm. I came across some smugglers last night. At least, I think they were smugglers. I'm still looking into it, but it seemed pretty suspicious. They were offloading crates full of what looked to be prescription drugs, but they were doing it at night, under cover."
"Interesting. Where was this?"
"Pier 31. A ship called the 'Cost Cutter.' I've got someone looking into it now."
"Well, let me know what you find."
"I will, as long as I get the exclusive."
She chuckled. "You got it, Lane. ... Okay, here. I've got Flannegan's file. Found dead in an alleyway off 15th and Shuster. Shot twice in the chest, at point blank range. No witnesses. No evidence pointing to why he was there, no known next of kin. Neighbors said he'd been behaving oddly. Suspected drug use, but no sign of it on the autopsy. Small shard of unidentified green crystal, assumed to be a fragment of a beer bottle, found embedded in his right hand. That's it."
"Hmm. Not much to go on. Thanks anyway."
"Sure. If that's it, I should get back to work."
"Yeah, me too. I'll call you if anything else comes up."
"Thanks, and I'll make sure someone looks into the Flannegan case."
"Right. Bye."
"Bye."
I hung up the phone, then tried to think of what to do. I checked my email, but there wasn't anything worthwhile. I considered writing back to my admirer, to see if I could get any more useful information that way, but decided against it. Probably wasn't worth it, yet, and I didn't want to be too encouraging. I kept it in mind in case he wrote back again. With that decided, there didn't seem to be much I could do until Jimmy got back to me with his research. Then I remembered that Clark had some half-finished puff pieces at his desk. Even if he wasn't going to be in today, they still needed to be written. I didn't like it, but for Clark, and for the paper... I pulled out the files and got to work.
I was finished with one and struggling with the second when Jimmy came to my rescue. "I checked the lot numbers, like you asked," he said. "They come from all over the place. Most of the brand name stuff was actually made in the US. Some of the others were made in Canada. The generics were made overseas... China, Indonesia, India... all sorts of places. All of them are legitimate manufacturers, certified by the FDA. It's all legal, but every one of those packages was intended to be sold outside the US."
"Why would they be smuggling US-made drugs back into the country?" I wondered, thinking out loud.
"Well, a lot of companies sell their products more cheaply to overseas distributors. They mark up the prices because of the way the health insurance companies work. At least, that's what I've heard..."
While I thought that over, Jimmy continued explaining what he'd found.
"I checked the ship's registry. It's owned by some small Indonesian company, but they're owned by another company called Amalgamated International Transportation, Incorporated. Amalgamated is owned by what looks like a bunch of shell companies in the Caribbean. I did some digging on them, and finally managed to trace their ownership... to CostMart."
"CostMart? Intergang? Why would Intergang...? No, wait... Doesn't CostMart have a pharmacy department?"
"Yeah, I think they do..."
My mind raced through the possibilities. "So maybe they're smuggling cheap drugs back into the US to stock their shelves. Not all of them -- there didn't seem to be enough in those crates to stock all the stores in the area -- but maybe mixing them in with the legally purchased ones. They could lower their prices, drive the other pharmacies out of business, but still make a tidy profit. It would not only get Intergang more money, but it would be all the more reason for them to expand CostMart, giving them more fronts to work from. They might even be using the whole scheme to launder money. We'll have to wait for the lab results, of course, but I'll bet that's it."
He stared at me. "How do you do that?"
I grinned at him. "It's a gift."
"I wonder who sent you the tip, though. Do you think he's involved with Intergang?"
"Huh. I don't know, Jimmy. It looks like he might be, but then, why would he send me a tip that would expose one of their plots? One of their minor plots, but still..."
"Maybe he's a cop?"
"But then why wouldn't he have sent the tip to his superiors?"
"Good point. I don't know..."
"Well, no use speculating without any more information. We'll see what happens when the story hits the stands."
"Right."
Jimmy wandered off, and I got back to work on Clark's puff piece. My heart wasn't really in it, though, and my mind wandered. I was trying to think of who might have Clark, and where they'd have taken him. If I was trying to keep Superman, even if I had Kryptonite, I'd want to stay on the safe side. I'd want to keep him in a place where it would be hard for him to escape, and I'd probably want to set things up where he couldn't happen across me before I was ready. Maybe, if I could find that place... "Jimmy!"
He rushed back. "Yes, Lois?"
"I just thought of something. Get me a list of every place in and around the city with reinforced walls and lead lining."
"Something Superman-proof! You got it, Lois!" He dashed off.
I started back to work on the article, but then the phone rang. "Lois Lane."
"Lois? This is Bill Henderson. I've got something for you. It'll be all over the news tonight, but I thought you'd want to hear it first. They found a body..."
******
Clark's POV
I think it was the footsteps that woke me up. I realized my captors were coming back. I slumped in the chair, as if I was still asleep, as if I was too weak to wake up. From the sound of things, it seemed that the woman was back with her escorts. My guess was confirmed soon after the door opened.
"How's our guest doing today? Awww, all tired out, huh? Did you play too hard with your friends, Superman?" Her voice sounded different this time. It was the cutesy tones. She'd sounded more serious the last time I'd heard her. That time, I'd also been disoriented from my capture. This time, I was more focused, and with the vacuous intonation (which I only now realized must have been an act), I was finally able to place the voice. It was Mindy Church.
"He's been sleeping a lot," the man said. "I think I may have overdosed him with the Kryptonite last time."
"Well," Mindy said, "he's less fun to play with, but at least he's not getting in my way."
"Yes, but I may reduce the exposure so we can have more... fun."
"Be careful. We don't want to take any chances."
"Of course."
I listened to this with half an ear. I was more concerned with trying to figure out what Mindy Church was doing here. She'd seemed like nothing more than Bill Church's trophy wife, a bubblehead who'd caught his attention, but clearly there was more to her. Bill and his son had both been arrested four months previously, on charges connected to Intergang. Things had been quiet since. I remembered, though, that my captor had said something to Mindy about joining her club. If Mindy had taken over Intergang... She could have been laying low for the past few months, waiting for the investigation to blow over.
Once that clicked into place, I stopped to review the conversation I'd heard. Suddenly, it filtered through that I was going to be exposed less to the Kryptonite. The plan was working! Quickly, I squashed my exuberance. Letting them see my reaction would only serve to ruin what progress I'd made. I forced myself to remain slumped. They talked a little more, but, evidentially realizing they weren't going to be able to have any "fun" with me, they soon left.
I shifted a bit, trying not to let my muscles get too stiff, but I tried to make it look like I was only moving in my sleep. Even though they'd left, I had no way of knowing if I was still under observation. Sitting back, I focused on Lois. I had no idea if she could hear me, but if there was any chance she could, I needed to let her know that I'd recognized one of my captors. I focused on trying to send her the name.
A few minutes later, I still had no idea if I'd been successful, but I stopped trying because a news report had caught my attention.
"The body of Lex Luthor was found today at a small private airport just outside of Metropolis. It is unknown at this time how or when Luthor, who was given a double life sentence last year for numerous criminal charges, managed to escape from Stryker's Island Prison. At a press conference this afternoon, a spokesperson for the Metropolis Police Department told reporters that, given the fact that Luthor's escape had not been reported, key prison officials are now under investigation. More details on this story as it develops.
"Coming up next, how safe are you? With Superman missing, the Metropolis crime rate has seen its largest overnight increase in recorded history. Is your home secure? We'll have some expert tips for you, after the break..."
******
Lois's POV
Even a few hours after Henderson's call, I was still somewhat shocked. Lex dead? After everything I'd gone through with the man, it hardly seemed possible. I was just starting to get used to the idea when Jimmy came to me with the latest. He hadn't been able to come up with anything on the building search. To be more exact, he'd come up with too much. The city was littered with bomb shelters, old prewar buildings with lead paint, and converted buildings which had once housed dental offices with x-ray machines. That was just the legal side of things. There was no way to tell how many criminals had done some clandestine "remodelling" work since Superman had first shown up.
While I digested that, Jimmy handed me the lab reports he'd received. The drugs had checked out. They matched the labels and had not been contaminated. Working on autopilot, I called Officer Sawyer and told her that the drugs weren't connected to her case, after all. When I'd explained what we'd found, she suggested that I call the coast guard and give them whatever evidence I had. They could take care of the ship and turn the CostMart investigation over to the FDA.
It seemed reasonable to me, so I put the call in. I had a contact there from an old gunrunning investigation. I agreed to give him copies of the pictures Jimmy had taken along with the information we'd found on the ship and its cargo on the conditions that I remain an anonymous source, be kept up to date on their investigation, and be given the exclusive story.
After I hung up, I started thinking more about Intergang. I wondered who was in charge now that Bill and Bill, Jr. had been arrested. Out of the blue, Mindy Church came to mind. What if she hadn't been the clueless innocent she'd appeared to be? Suddenly I was sure that she'd been the one to take over. It was nothing more than a gut feeling, but I'd learned to trust my gut. Even if I was right, though, what could I do about it?
