CHAPTER 11
“Hey, blue eyes. How are you doing?”
“Lana?” Clark gaped in surprise before quickly standing to hug his old friend. “What are you doing here?”
“Standing here talking to you, silly,” Lana replied teasingly with a wide grin.
“You know what I mean,” said Clark adopting a dramatic frown, which only served to turn Lana’s grin into outright laughter. “What are you doing in Metropolis?”
“Job interview. I flew in yesterday and would have called then, but it was late and I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before the interview.”
“Interview?” Clark said retaking his seat and gesturing for her to sit down in a chair beside his desk. “Who with?”
“Galaxy Communications. They’re looking for a fresh face to occupy one of the on-air correspondent’s positions.”
“That’s great, Lana. How did it go?”
“Good, I think. Galaxy’s expanding their scope and wants to start taking on LNN in the global news market so they’re looking for a lot of new talent to pit against LNN’s rank and file. There’s been talk that they’re looking into publishing ventures as well. The Daily Planet has even been mentioned as a hot property that they might have their eye on.”
“Great, Perry needs something else to worry about. It’s been at least two whole days since that last melt down of his over the suits upstairs trying to influence what we write. He gets some TV exec butting in next he may actually pick up a murder charge.”
“From what I’ve heard about Perry White I’m sure he can hold his own. Besides, if Galaxy takes over they may decide that those baby blues could be put to better use in luring the female demographic to GBS rather than hiding behind a newspaper column.”
“Ha, I’m pretty sure one look at these baby blues would convince any Galaxy exec that I’m right in insisting that no picture accompany my column.”
“Sure Clark. You’re lucky your mirror doesn’t crack when you shave in the morning,” Lana said with a wry grin.
“Well, I have had to replace it a couple of times over the past year. You don’t think…”
“Ha, ha,” Lana interrupted him sarcastically. “Good thing you have this day job, Kent at least I’m reasonably sure you won’t starve. Which actually brings me to the real reason I’m here.”
“You didn’t come just to visit an old friend? I’m hurt.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re killing me, Kent. I wanted to know what you’re doing for Christmas. I’m going to spend it with my parents in Smallville and mom said I shouldn’t bother to come unless I can convince you to join us.”
Clark’s tried admirably to freeze the smile on his face, but a Superman is only so powerful so he was sure it faltered slightly. Pushing his solar powered synapses back into play he responded before the silence could grow uncomfortable.
“Gee, Lana, I really appreciate the invitation, but I’ve already promised Perry that I’d be available here because of a story I’m working on. I’ve already made some other arrangements anyway.”
“Uh huh, let me guess, spending the holidays with family?”
“Every living relative I have.”
“Cla-rk,” Lana said with an exasperated sigh.
“La-na,” Clark replied with a smile mimicking her exasperation.
Lana closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.
“You’re a stubborn man, Clark Kent. You’re also absolutely the best man I know. Kind and generous to the point that a lot of saints could stand to come to you for pointers. But as nice as you are to everyone else I wish you’d treat yourself with the same compassion.”
“Lana…”
“They wouldn’t want you to be alone, Clark.”
“I’m not alone, Lana.”
“Really?” Lana said glancing down at his desk and picking up the solitary picture frame present. “I don’t see a lot of evidence of other people present in your life.”
“I have friends, Lana.”
“Friends or acquaintances?”
“Friends,” Clark said adopting a no nonsense tone.
“But no one special. No one to make you feel a part of something.” Lana replied not put off in the least by his tone.
“Lana…” Clark started to say again his tone softening.
”No, Clark,” Lana interrupted. “You don’t need to say anything. We both know all of the reasons why it doesn’t work with us. Too much time and water under the bridge. You have…your other responsibilities. Important responsibilities that need to be addressed and I’m too selfish to share. But just because it’s that way with us doesn’t mean it has to be a lose/lose sacrifice issue for you.”
A dozen denials sprang to Clark’s lips, but he clamped his mouth shut before he could voice them. Finally he settled on avoidance with a bit of honesty.
“You’re not selfish, Lana.”
Lana smiled at Clark’s choice of reply. It wasn’t an admission, but at least it wasn’t a denial of what both knew stood between them and what both knew the other knew.
“Yes, I am Clark. About the things that matter.”
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips and then stood up.
“While you’re out saving the world don’t lose sight of Jonathan and Martha’s son while you’re at it. He’s an incredible man and deserves to be treated with kindness.”
“I won’t, Lana.”
Lana looked into his eyes for a moment before finally speaking again. “Merry Christmas, Clark.”
“Merry Christmas, Lana.”
Offering a final soft smile she turned and left the newsroom.
Clark sat looking after her for a moment lost in thought.
Across the room Lois had watched the scene play itself out. She hadn’t been able to hear but a couple of words from the conversation and she told herself that was ok because she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop anyway. Not exactly. The kiss at the end, however, had definitely gotten her attention. Unable to bear it anymore she stood up and crossed the room.
Clark sat silently staring at his computer screen, but obviously lost in thought. His somber mood though was quickly interrupted.
“You’ve been holding out on us, Smallville,” Lois said dropping down into the seat Lana had recently vacated.
“Huh?” Clark answered.
“Ah, that mid-western wit,” Lois said leaning forward and smiling, “I can never get enough of it.”
Clark smiled despite himself and shook his head.
“Ok, enough abusing the straight man in this act. What exactly am I supposedly ‘holding out’?”
“The red head,” Lois said.
“Lana?” Clark asked in surprise. “She’s just an old friend.”
“Old friend, huh?” Lois said. “Looked awful chummy to me for an old friend. Does she lay a lip lock like that on all of the guys she knows?”
“Lana and I used to date,” Clark said and as Lois quickly opened her mouth to speak he added, “in high school.”
“Wow, and she still follows you around. Sounds kind of needy to me.”
Clark frowned at Lois and started to speak, but Lois interrupted.
“I don’t mean to over step my bounds, Clark, but do you really want to get involved with someone that’s going to be needy?”
“Lois…”
“I mean, it really doesn’t matter to me. I certainly don’t care who you spend your time with, but I just think you should be careful about those kinds of things.”
“Lois…”
“You do have a career to consider you know. You can’t just…”
“Lois,” Clark interjected a bit more forcefully finally interrupting her babble. “Lana and I aren’t involved and won’t be getting involved. We’re just friends. She just stopped by to invite me to her parents for Christmas dinner. I declined.”
“Oh,” Lois said unsure of what to say next.
Clark suddenly got a mischievous look on his face and leaned forward.
“Why exactly are you concerned about my social life anyway?”
“What?” Lois said suddenly realizing the turn in the conversation and fighting not to blush. “I’m not. I mean I was just…”
The ringing of Clark’s phone rescued her and she grabbed it before Clark could even react.
“Daily Planet, Lois Lane speaking.”
“Lane? I thought this was Kent’s number,” Henderson’s gruff voice answered.
“Well, we are partners inspector. You know, what’s his is mine and what’s mine is mine, etc. etc.” Lois answered with a grin.
“Uh huh,” Henderson said, “has anyone let Kent know that yet?”
Lois batted away the hand Clark held out for the phone and turned slightly away.
“I don’t bother myself with technicalities, Henderson. So what do you have for me?”
“Us,” Clark corrected.
Lois made a shushing motion with her hand and Clark responded by resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he placed his elbow on the desk and resigned himself to playing spectator.
“Sorry about that Inspector, could you repeat that please? An annoying noise in my ear kept me from hearing you.”
“I said, we’ve set up a time for you and Kent to talk to Maxwell. Kent is allowed to talk right?”
“Clark is an adult, Henderson. He can do whatever he wants. He just happens to have the good sense to let me do most of the talking.”
Lois chose to ignore Clark’s answering glower and turned even further away in her seat.
“Good sense,” Henderson repeated, “gotcha. A matador has the good sense to get out of the way of the bull too, but what confuses me is that he’s still stupid enough to step into the ring in the first place.”
“You’re not Irish by any chance are you, Henderson?” Lois asked.
“Grandmother hailed straight from Dublin, thank you very much. I get my sense of humor from her.”
“You might consider suing.”
“Just find out what we have to do, Lois,” Clark said.
Lois turned to find Clark with his head down supporting his forehead in both of his hands.
“Clark’s getting impatient, Henderson. He apparently doesn’t understand the finely honed professional relationship we’ve developed. You’d better give with the goods before he has a fit of apoplexy.”
“Be outside the Planet at 6:00 PM sharp. I’ll have some plainclothes guys pick you up in an unmarked car and drive you to the safe house.“
“Will you or Hagan be there?” Lois asked.
“Some of us have lives outside of work, Lane. You might want to look into that.”
“Yeah, Henderson, but we’re talking about you and the Governor wanna be.”
She heard Henderson sigh deeply before he answered.
“No, neither of us will be there. It’ll just be you and the guard detail tonight. Hagan wants you out of there by nine though. Trust me, Lane, Hagan wanted to be there, but he said something had come up that he couldn’t let wait and he was trusting you to keep to our deal.”
“We’re the soul of professionalism and propriety, Henderson.”
“Whatever,” he answered, “just be out front at 6 or you’ll have to be professional with someone else.”
Henderson hung up before Lois could answer and she stuck her tongue out at the phone before she hung her receiver up as well.
**********
At six PM sharp Lois and Clark stood in front of the Daily Planet in the chilly December wind waiting for their ride. A few minutes after six a gray, nondescript Buick pulled up in front of them and the driver motioned with his head for the two to get in the backseat.
“Still a man of few words, huh, Miller?” Lois said as she got in the car.
“Standing orders from Henderson whenever the MPD is transporting Lois Lane, ‘keep your trap shut.’” Miller responded as he looked over his shoulder out the back window and pulled out into traffic.
The car headed out of Metropolis over the Hobb’s Bay Bridge toward the surrounding suburbs. The ride was relatively uneventful and in short order the car entered Brentwood one of the several middle class suburbs outside the city. They passed several housing developments all built along the same lines until they turned into the entrance to one called “Forest Hills”.
“’Forrest Hagan’ maintains a safe house in ‘Forest Hills’,” Lois commented with a smirk. “Go figure.”
“I don’t think this can be considered Mr. Hagan’s own personal safe house, Lois,” Clark responded. “The Metropolis PD or the Sheriff’s department have probably maintained this for quite some time.”
Lois cast Clark a stony stare.
“Sarcasm works better without commentary, Clark. And rhetorical questions work better when they’re left rhetorical.”
“Well technically, Lois, you didn’t ask a question. You made a statement. Those can’t be rhetorical.”
“Your English teacher would be proud,” she said before turning to look back out the window. After a moment he heard her mutter, “I’m surprised you learned so much what with ‘Lana’ occupying your time.”
Clark cocked an eyebrow at the last statement, but wisely chose not to respond to it.
They soon pulled into the driveway of a small, ranch style home and were shown inside by their driver. The security detail consisted of two plainclothes officers who were sitting in the living room watching a hockey game on TV. Robert Maxwell was pacing the floor in the adjacent kitchen.
“Sorry guys,” Miller said, “you’re going to have to miss the rest of the game. Hagan agreed for Maxwell to talk to these two and one or both of you guys are under orders to monitor everything said in case Maxwell ‘recalls’ some detail he forgot to inform Hagan about.”
Miller reviewed Hagan’s instructions one more time with all involved and then before leaving told the two reporters that he would be back at nice o’clock to pick them both up and return them to the Daily Planet.
“Hagan said to tell you to use the time you have wisely,” Miller said.
“Gee,” Lois replied, “I’m glad he thought of that, aren’t you, Clark? Why us two seasoned professionals might have spent all night just discussing the weather with Maxwell, here.”
Miller shook his head and left the house grumbling to himself.
One of the officers excused himself to check in with the local police and the rest settled into the living room.
“Ok, Maxwell,” Clark said before Lois could speak up, “where do you want to begin?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “I just want to make sure my side of the story’s heard and that those other bastards get nailed to the wall.”
“Then why don’t you start with how you got involved with Intergang,” Lois said quickly, directing a smirk at Clark.
“About six years ago I had a bit of a gambling problem and I got into it deep with some of the local bookies and couldn’t pay up. I got threatened a bit and a couple of guys even pushed me around a little, but nothing major happened initially. Then one day I got a call that Bruno Mannheim wanted to see me. Mannheim as you know was head of Intergang at the time and he said that he’d get the bookies to overlook the debt if I did some work for him. That’s when I started influencing how some of the city bids went.”
“So you weren’t getting kickbacks from the bidders then?” Clark asked.
“Not at first, no. It was purely an Intergang operation and I never knew exactly how it worked. This went on for a couple of years and then Superman busted up Intergang. Mannheim went to prison and everyone seemed to forget all about me. I was free and clear. The situation with the bookies was even scary enough that I was able to kick the gambling thing.”
“So how did the city contract racket start back up again?”
“About two years ago I got a call from a guy named Marcus Styles. He said he represented the ‘new’ Intergang and he wanted to talk to me about some opportunities. My gut clenched at the thought that I was going to get pulled back in, but I agreed to meet him because I was afraid he had some way of proving my past connection with the organization. We meet at the Tower Gardens and he tells me that Intergang is back in business, but that it’s a changed organization.”
“Changed?” Clark asked. “Changed how?”
“That’s what I asked. He said that the old Intergang had been a mafia full of thugs. A sophisticated mafia to be sure, but full of thugs nonetheless. He said that the new Intergang had a vision and one that would benefit all of its members, not just the ones on top. He said he knew about my former arrangement with Mannheim and that the new organization would like to reinitiate it, but that I wouldn’t be working for free this time.”
“They were going to start including you in on the kickbacks,” Lois said.
“Something like that, but not quite. Styles shoved a briefcase over to my side of the table and told me that it contained one hundred thousand dollars that was mine just to hear their proposal. He said that this wasn’t a blackmail racket and that I could walk away any time and they’d never bother me again. All he asked was that I listen and decide whether or not I wanted to be rich.”
“Nice sales pitch,” Lois said.
“You’re telling me.” Maxwell said shaking his head. “I didn’t even need to see the money and I was already feeling like I did when I used to score big on the games. So, I listened and he said that the new Intergang was trying to phase out the old gangster style way of doing business. He said that the organization was headed up by businessmen who knew the value of ‘helping each other out’.”
“Helping each other out?” Clark prompted.
“Yeah, he said that Intergang now believed in a “mutually beneficial” way of doing business. He said that more and more heads of industry in Metropolis and the surrounding cities were joining in and they were all simply looking out for each other. He said to think of it as a kind of union for big business.”
“A union?” Lois asked.
“Yeah, that’s the term Styles used. He said that they all helped each other get ahead. No one gets bullied and no one got hurt. This ‘union’ would be able to put people in a position where they could benefit each other in the normal course of business affairs. He said that I would be a key player in the game and could stand to make what that briefcase contained look like chicken feed. That’s when he made his offer.”
“Which was?” Clark asked.
“He said that I would get a regular monthly retainer of ten thousand dollars and a percentage of each deal I helped pass through the City Council.”
Lois whistled. “That had to be a pretty hefty chunk of change.”
“It sure was,” Maxwell agreed.
“How many deals did you help broker?” Clark asked.
“In the past two years I helped 12 Intergang sponsored proposals pass through the Council.”
“Which netted you how much money?” Lois asked.
“That’s one of the things that I would prefer to keep to myself,” Maxwell answered.
“Because you hope Hagan’s still going to let you walk away with it so long as he nails these ‘captains of Industry,” Lois said.
“Something like that,” Maxwell said with a grin.
“How altruistic of you,” Lois said with a scowl.
“Hey, I’m no idiot. Once you two busted me on the stadium thing I knew I had a choice of either going to prison or selling out Intergang. And you don’t sell out these people unless you have the resources to run and run far.”
“So exactly what ‘people’ are we talking about?” Clark asked.
“I don’t know them all, just a few of the players that I had to deal with because of the contracts. But, those are big names, trust me.”
“How about the people behind the startup of this new Intergang, or do you think those people and these names you know are one in the same?”
Maxwell paused for a few seconds before answering.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I don’t think so, though. I have some ideas about it, but I don’t think this whole thing is just about some businessmen helping each other out.”
“Why don’t you tell us some of those ideas then,” Lois said leaning forward.
Suddenly, the door exploded inward knocking the second officer who was returning from another room off of his feet and slamming him into the far wall. Before Clark could do anything though his stomach began to twist and a pain lanced though his head. The sickening feeling became even worse as the reason for the explosion stepped through the door.
A figure dressed in silver and red stepped unhurriedly through the burning remnants of the door and calmly shot the remaining police officer who had pulled his gun and had it at the ready while checking his fallen partner. The intruder’s head was completely covered in a silver mask except for a single red optical targeting system placed where his right eye should be. Despite the mask, however, his identity was not a secret.
“Deadshot!” Clark gasped out as the pain he was feeling intensified and nausea threatened to make him pass out.
“Nice to see I haven’t been forgotten by the fickle media,” Deadshot replied as he turned to Maxwell and raised one of his arms which had a wrist mounted gun attached. “Interview’s been cancelled Robbie, Ol’ Boy.”
As paralyzed as Clark was though his partner was not. Before Deadshot could claim a third victim an ashtray glanced off the side of his head causing his shot to go wide. As Maxwell dropped to the floor Lois vaulted the coffee table and drove both feet into Deadshot’s stomach knocking him backwards and to the ground.
“Clark, get Maxwell out of here,” she shouted over her shoulder.
For his part Deadshot had rolled with the surprise attack and was coming to his feet bringing his wrist mounted guns to bear on his attacker. Lois dove between his outstretched arms to avoid the weapons and drove a forearm into Deadshot’s face while hooking a leg through one of his and knocking him to the floor once again.
Clark quickly scanned Deadshot with his X-ray vision looking for the source of his sickness. Just as he expected he found Deadshot’s left-wrist gun loaded with .44 caliber Kryptonite bullets. An appearance by Superman would probably have earned him a bullet between his eyes before he would even have realized anything was wrong. It was only fortune, which had caused Deadshot’s attack while he was present as Clark Kent.
Any coherent plan of attack though was interrupted when he saw Deadshot’s leg sweep out taking Lois to the floor and almost in slow motion he watched the killer came to his feet and bring a gun up to point at the fallen woman.
“I like a woman with fire, doll, but you and your four-eyed boyfriend are on the list along with Robbie. I do appreciate the show of spunk, though. Don’t worry, it’ll only hurt until you’re dead.”
“NO!!!!”
The fierce scream startled both Lois and the masked hit man as Clark, ignoring the pain racking his body, barreled into Deadshot carrying them both into the kitchen.
The waves of nausea and dizziness were almost unbearable at this range as the Kryptonite radiation washed through his body causing his cells to warp and reject the solar energy they contained. The fear, however, that had gripped his heart at the sight of the killer placing his sights on Lois was by far greater than any pain the Kryptonite radiation striking his body could produce and had spurred Clark to action.
The problem now was how to stop the killer before he claimed another victim. If he didn’t do something quickly he would pass out from the radiation sickness and then both he and Lois would be dead. Clark’s nausea intensified as Deadshot brought a knee up into his stomach and pulled his left arm loose to bring its wrist gun against Clark’s head. In a desperate move Clark lunged forward at that moment pushing Deadshot off balance and drew back his fist to follow up his attack.
Clark couldn’t afford to pull his punch a great deal for fear that Deadshot wouldn’t be greatly affected and could still get off a shot. Conversely he couldn’t hit him too hard or it would kill him. Under normal circumstances Clark had gotten pretty good over the past several years gauging the appropriate amount of strength to use with humans. Unfortunately, weakened and sick as he was from the Kryptonite he had no idea what level of strength he had to work with. So, saying a silent prayer he let fly a punch that he hoped would at least knock Deadshot off his feet.
It did.
He also didn’t get back up again.
TBC…
