Two days later, the reporting team was convinced Perry’s tip had fallen through. They were unable to find anything to link businessman Adam Thomas to any kind of wrong doing at all, let alone a connection to the drug underworld that seemed to highly influence the small village. Deciding to cut their losses and chalk one up to the unknown, Lois and Clark headed for the airport once again for the return trip home.
“I really wish you’d talk to me,” Lois told Clark as they made their way to the gate.
Clark shifted the bags to the hand opposite Lois. “I think we should wait until we return home.”
“Yeah… there’s something you need to add to the discussion,” Lois said sarcastically. She was exasperated. She’d tried several times to talk with Clark and he’d told her he wanted to wait until they were home because he had something to say as well. It didn’t do any good to argue, so she kept pace beside him toward the entrance to their plane.
Clark wanted so badly to speak with her. He also felt he should wait until they were home. He’d had some time to think about things and to cool down. While he was a little hurt and disappointed that Lois hadn’t told Luthor about their relationship, he could understand her hesitancy toward certain issues. After all, he’d shied away from many people because of how he felt about himself. He also knew a little of Lois’ past emotional history. She, too, shied away from others, though for slightly different reasons, but the principle was the same. Neither knew very much about how this relationship should work. Because of that, he’d made the decision to apologize for how he‘d acted. It couldn’t hurt. He was going to throw another wrench into the works anyway. Once Lois found out about his alter-ego, he was sure she’d get as far from him as possible.
Lois came to a halt when the security officer asked her to open her bag for a search. She gladly complied and waited patiently for him to finish. Clark was about to put his bag on the conveyor to send it through the metal detector when one of the guards lost control of the dog he held tightly by its leash. The dog barked loudly and headed straight for Clark’s bag. It started biting the canvas and pulled with unforgiving force to free the bag from the Clark’s grasp.
Clark’s eyes darted between the dog and the officers. He still held to the bag, but wasn’t sure what to do. One of the officers rushed forward and pulled back on the dog’s chain.
“Heel,” he shouted. The dog continued to go wild, attempting to tear into Clark’s duffel. Finally the policemen managed to get the canine under control.
“Open it!” the young officer shouted to Clark.
Confused by the dog‘s actions, Clark couldn’t figure out what was happening. Obviously the canine thought there was something in his bag that shouldn’t be. That was impossible. The only thing there was his clothes. He dropped the bag onto the table next to the metal detector and unzipped it. He’d already decided that if they wanted him to prove he was on the level, he would gladly accommodate them.
Shock, fear, and every other emotion in the world ran through Clark’s mind when he saw what was in his bag. He felt his cheek make contact with a metal surface as he was roughly pushed to the table surface under him. Two police officers swore loudly as they cuffed him.
Lois couldn’t believe what she’d seen. Clark’s bag was filled with small white, brick shaped items. She’d done enough drug investigations to know exactly what the items were. She heard the words that were being sworn in angry Spanish and saw what was happening to her partner.
“Hey,” she tried to yell in vain. A moment later she was bound just as tightly as Clark and both were ushered through the small airport and out into separate vehicles. She kept yelling, insisting their US citizenship should be taken into consideration and the proper authorities contacted. Her only response was that the proper authorities had been contacted and for her to shut her mouth.
What was going on? Clark’s mind raced to understand exactly what had happened. He had understood every word that had been said. They were being arrested for possession of narcotics. The bricks were believed to be cocaine. The question on Clark’s mind was how the heck it had gotten into his bag.
A short time later, his vehicle screeched to a halt outside the local police station. He could see the officers from the other car taking Lois inside. His door was opened and he was dragged out and led inside to be placed in a small, empty room with only two chairs and a table. There was also a mirror, most likely two-way, hanging on the wall. He was instructed to sit before the officers left.
He had no idea where they’d taken Lois. What were they doing to her? Did she, too, have drugs in her bag? More to the point, how did they get out of this? Clark wasn’t naïve. He knew enough to know that things were handled quite differently in these small impoverished nations. He would be tried quickly and if his guilt was proven, he’d be sent to some prison that was probably not very livable. If ever there was a time he needed to have a clear head, this was it.
The door burst open and what appeared to be a high-ranking officer stepped inside. He looked Clark over very carefully before he spoke.
“Where did you get the drugs?” he asked in heavily accented English.
“They’re not mine. I have no idea how they ended up in my bag.”
“Nonsense. It was your bag.”
“Believe me,” Clark told him earnestly. “I have no idea how or why there were drugs in my bag.”
The man studied Clark for a moment before he dropped the piece of paper he held to the table. “This child… died this morning from an overdose. We believe you had something to do with that.”
Clark’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “I assure you… I have no idea how that child got drugs!” Clark had wanted desperately to say he didn’t know the child, but he couldn’t. He and Lois had received information from the boy the first night they were in the country. They had both been surprised that such a young boy could know so much about what was going on around him. They’d figured that’s how he made enough money to feed his family. His parents were both very ill and unable to work.
“This child,” the man said as he jabbed a finger onto the picture. “Was last seen talking to you and your lady friend.”
“I admit we talked to him,” Clark said, his voice starting to rise in pitch from the panic he felt. “But we DID NOT give him drugs! We‘re reporters for the Daily Planet in Metropolis, USA. We‘re here on a story. The boy gave us some information. That‘s all!”
“Is your lady in this with you? We found no drugs in her bag.” The man crossed to stand behind Clark.
“Neither of us is into anything! We did not pick the drugs up from anyone.” Clark looked up at the man with a fierce expression. “Look, we’re US citizens. We have the right to contact the nearest Embassy.”
The man stood in silence for a long moment before he walked back to the door. Without another word, he left Clark alone again.
Clark sighed and looked over at the image of the boy they’d talked to. He looked peaceful, almost as if he were asleep. What happened to him? How had he gotten the drugs? Clark had been almost certain the child was not strung out. He would have bet money on it. Apparently he’d been wrong.
Clark tried to figure a way out of this. He was obviously going to be charged with possession and his or Lois’ status as US citizens clearly meant nothing here. He would be sent to prison for an indefinite amount of time, if the trial followed suit with the arrest, which had clearly started to resemble a set-up to him. Hopefully Lois would be released so she could go back home to call up reinforcements. Once back in the states, surely she would be able to figure out what was going on. The Department of Foreign Affairs would certainly be able to offer support and help to straighten all this out. And if all else failed, he could wait until the time was right and escape with a little super help.
A long sigh escaped his lips. He hated to use his abilities for such purposes, but in this instance he may not have a choice. If someone truly had set this up, his alter ego might be the source of escape for the reporter.
~^~^~^~^~^~^~
Lois had been questioned and had given up on the sarcasm when it seemed to just get her into further trouble. She’d given the same answers that Clark had. She neither understood nor did she know how the drugs had gotten into her partner’s bag. She’d been dismayed when she learned of their young informant’s death. When her story stayed the same after being asked more than twice, Lois started to insist the Daily Planet and the US Embassy be contacted. The officers ignored her and changed tactics. They tried to get her to tell them about Clark’s illegal activities. That angered her and she began to insist more forcibly that the proper US authorities be contacted. She calmed only when someone asked:
‘How well do you know Mr. Kent?’
She’d immediately clammed up and began to really take in the unfolding situation. Reluctantly, she surmised that Clark had already been found guilty and the best thing she could do was figure out how to get out of here so she could find out who had gone to so much trouble to set this up.
And someone had done that. Clark wasn’t a drug dealer. He didn’t give drugs to small children. He didn’t transport them or do any of the other things they were accusing him of. She’d been asked if Clark had been alone right before they left their hotel. The truth was he had. They hadn’t shared a room so Clark was alone in his the whole time they were here. They’d decided that was best until they talked their feelings out over their argument. He’d also gone out a few times alone, not to mention those dang disappearances.
Lois stopped to think about that. Clark ‘did’ disappear a lot.
<Stop it, Lois! You know Clark. He’s not a drug dealer.>
She banished those thoughts immediately and started to evaluate the situation. It was obvious they’d gotten too close to someone, but whom? Surely they’d missed something in their investigation. There had to be some bit of information that would answer this puzzle. They’d been about to leave the country when they’d been arrested. Had they truly overlooked something that would lead to all of this? Or had they simply angered someone by asking questions?
Before she could think that through, the door to her room came open and she was ushered out and down the hall to a small cell. She was told Clark’s trial would be held first thing the following morning.
She couldn’t believe it. How could such injustices be so readily accepted? Again, she started her demands that proper authorities from the United States be contacted. And again, she was told to hush; things were done differently in Port Stanley and no one would be contacted. Clark would be tried and that was that!
She’d sighed heavily at that. Clark wouldn’t be allowed to defend himself. These small countries worked on their own set of laws. No matter how loudly she protested or how many times she demanded they couldn’t do this to two United States citizens, things remained the same. She was put back into a cell to await a bogus trial that would convict her partner for crimes he never committed. He was a dead man!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~
Guilty! He’d been found guilty, not only of possession of the narcotics, but for murder as well. It was determined that the small boy had died of the same drugs that had been found in Clark’s bag. He just wondered how in the heck that had been determined so quickly.
Clark sat in disbelief as he stared at the rigid face of the judge who shuffled a few papers before speaking.
“It is the sentence of this court for you,” the judge told Clark, “to be held in one of the local prisons until formal arrangements are made.” The man gathered his papers and exited the room.
Again, Clark could only stare ahead. What had just happened? He’d been sentenced to be imprisoned in some place that barely passed as a jail until formal arrangements were made? What did that mean?
Though he’d traveled extensively before settling in Metropolis, he’d never been privy to the goings on inside the inner world of impoverished countries such as this. He’d seen a lot and worked side by side with natives to improve their way of life, but he’d never seen just how the underworld in these places worked. Though he’d figured he’d be railroaded, he’d had no idea it would be so swift or so severe.
He’d spent the biggest portion of the night sitting on the cot in his cell trying to figure out what to do and how to get out of the mess he’d found himself in. It was obvious he had made someone pretty angry at him or that he and Lois had missed an extremely pertinent detail during their investigation. Though if the latter was the case, it didn’t explain why he was the only one being charged and sentenced to prison.
Maybe it was time for Superman to make an appearance. Clark glanced at Lois. She looked as if she was in shock. Her eyes were wide and clearly reflected the fear inside her. How could he risk anything happening to her if he chose to escape as Superman? What would they do to her? No, he had to wait until she was safely out of this place before he did anything. It would take him only minutes to get away and maybe then, he and Lois could get to work trying to figure out what was going on.
Lois felt lightheaded. They’d just sentenced Clark to prison. And what else would they do to him? Formal arrangements? Were these people whacked?
She swiped a hand across her face as the sting of hot tears pierced the backs of her lids. Her large brown pools were glued to Clark. What must he be feeling right now? She’d spent the most awful night of her life, pacing and wracking her brains trying to figure this whole mess out. How had they gone from investigating a story to becoming the story?!
Her thoughts were put on hold as she watched the man she loved be manhandled by an officer.
A large officer hauled Clark to his feet to be transported to the prison immediately.
“Could I at least talk to her?” He motioned to Lois with his head.
The officer stepped over to consult another man before leading Clark down the hall to a room. A moment later Lois was shoved in with him.
“Clark!” She went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands were bound behind his back so he had to settle for her comfort, unable to return it. She drew back and looked at him.
“We have to get you out of this. They’ll kill you in that prison.”
“I know. Lois, I’m so sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t put those drugs in your bag… Did you?” Why had she asked that? Lois had banished those thoughts the day before when the officers questioning her implied Clark’s guilt. There was a lot she didn’t know about her partner; she would be first to admit that. But the one thing she did know was that he was no drug dealer.
“No! How can you ask me that?” Clark was a little hurt and very annoyed. He’d spent the last twelve hours pacing his cell in an attempt to come up with some kind of plan. “Listen to me, Lois. When you get home…” And she would get home. They’d told him they were putting her on a plane within the hour. She was to leave this country and not come back. “Call my parents.”
“I will. And I’ll figure out what the hell is going on.”
“I know you’ll try, but we have to be honest. Whoever has done this means business.”
“I know that. They went to a lot of trouble to set you up and that kind of thing is traceable. It has to be.”
Clark wanted so badly to touch her. Large tears filled her eyes as she pulled him back into an embrace. He would get out of here… He had to… for her.
“Lois,” he said into her neck. He waited until she drew back before he continued. “I will wait a few days… let them lock me up, then I’ll get out.”
“Get out? How?”
“Lois,” he said and glanced away from her for a moment. He met her eyes with a serious expression. “Look at me. I ‘will’ get out. There’s only one thing that could keep me from it.”
“One thing? Clark, what are talking about?”
“Take my glasses off.”
She was about to lift her hand when the light came on. She knew exactly what he meant. “Oh god!” Lois drew away in shock. Her partner, the man she thought she knew, was someone totally different.
“Please, please understand,” he begged. All further talk was cut off when the door opened and Lois was demanded to leave.
She didn’t want to leave like this. She couldn’t let Clark think she was angry. Well, she was, but she was more hurt than anything. Her mind raced as she stepped forward to grab Clark again. She was held at bay by a strong hand on her arm. Lois protested loudly as she was dragged out of the room, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I may not understand completely, but I’ll be waiting,” she whispered.
Clark sighed and let his head drop. Her words comforted him a little. It would make the next few days easier to endure.
“I love you, Clark,” came a final whispered thought through his hearing before Lois was shoved out of the building. Clark caught a final glance of the woman he loved more than life as he was taken out to the corridor to be ushered to the prison. There was no way he’d stay here in some hellhole any longer than he had to. He would return to her and together they would figure this whole thing out.
~^~^~^~^~^~^~
“Is it done?” Lex asked the man standing behind him. He watched the commotion outside the seedy little courthouse as Lois was pushed inside a waiting vehicle.
“It is. And he’s being sent to Purgatory.”
“Excellent. Men tend to get lost there.”
“No one comes back from Purgatory,” the man assured Lex.
A wide smile graced the lips of the most evil monster alive. He took a drag from his cigar before speaking again. “And the insurance? Is it in place in case Kent’s alien savior shows?”
“The stone’s buried just inside the door. The super hero won’t get in without feeling the affects.”
“Very good. Our boy scout in tights will certainly try to rescue his friend. He’s so predictable. I want to be notified immediately.”
“The instant he shows up,” the man assured him. “But you do realize Superman will probably fly off again when he realizes the situation?”
Lex smiled widely. “Yes. And by then, Kent will be but a memory.“ He reached into his jacket slowly, grasping cool steel. “You ’have’ given the order to do away with Kent in a few days?”
“He will be executed by week’s end.”
“Very well done. And Kent’s body? The stone? I want that little gem returned after Superman shows up and Kent has been taken care of. Should the ’boy wonder’ fail to show up, send it back as soon as Kent’s dead. Superman won’t be needed then.”
“The stone will be returned upon Kent’s death and the body will be lost forever.”
“Good. I don’t want that little bitch to have it back to grieve over him. I want her to always wonder what happened to him.”
“But I thought you wanted proof of his death sent back?”
“Oh, I do. Send… his clothes, his wallet, glasses… and a lock of hair.” Lex grinned, more to himself than to the man before him. “That should really keep her mind occupied. I just don’t want a body sent back. I want her to always wonder what his last days were like. Did he suffer? What was done with his remains? You know, the kinds of things that can drive someone out of their mind.”
The man smiled brightly. “Most evil, Mr. Luthor.”
“That was nothing,” he said as he turned to the man and withdrew his gun. Lex’s heart fluttered as he saw the fear register in his victim’s eyes. He squeezed the trigger of the gun he held. An instant later, the man’s body slumped to the floor. “That, Mr. Parsons, was most evil.” He turned the barrel of the gun upward and blew the smoke away from the silencer. “Most evil.”
tbc...
