Since CC happened to mention that she was leaving for a vacation thursday, I thought I go ahead and post chapter three a little early.
(Remember last time, Clark had just gotten beaten up by street punks)
So....
To Protect and Serve II - The Return of A Superman
by Tank
CHAPTER THREE
Nigel St. John let himself into the penthouse of LexTower, a practice he had long been accustomed to. Only this time the occupant of the luxurious office/apartment complex wasn't the man for whom the building was named. This time he was greeted by a beautiful woman.
"Ah, Nigel, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was obvious to St. John that, even though they'd been partners in the dethroning of Lex Luthor, she still didn't trust him completely. Not an unwise precaution.
He inclined his head toward the dark-haired, impeccably dressed, woman. "Just thought I'd pop in with an update on our *other* project, Mrs. Luthor."
She waved a hand at him in disgust. "Please, don't use that name. I have to deal with that all day long. It makes me feel like I'm still in some stuffy board room. I think, as partners, you can call me Arianna. Or, if you must be formal, Ms. Carlin."
"As you wish."
"So, what's the latest word from the redoubtable Dr. Mamba?"
Nigel allowed a slight smile to tweak his lips. "It seems that our good doctor has finally made his breakthrough. He has a fully realized subject and is, as we speak, working on the proper indoctrination."
Arianna Carlin licked her lips in avarice expectation. "How close are we to... deployment." She grinned at her own cleverness of words.
St. John was able to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. The woman could be quite trying at times. "We will soon be in a position to begin covert testing, then we can move to more - rigorous tests."
"What about Henderson? I understand he is balking. Was he ever in our camp?"
Nigel allowed himself a dry chuckle. "I think our good Inspector never felt that he was actually one of us. He fooled himself into thinking that he was in control of his situation, and was merely using us to achieve what he felt was the greater good." He strolled over to the elegant french doors that led to the large balcony and gazed out over the city. "It's a common failing of the those who are confident in their own abilities when they undertake what they think is merely an undercover operation." He paused, adding a dramatic effect. "They refuse to see that they have actually become what they thought they were only pretending to be."
Arianna was clearly confused. "I'm not sure what you're saying? I would have thought Henderson too smart to think he could just pretend to help us, just to get Luthor out of the way, then turn around and go back to being a normal street cop. Is he with us, or not?"
"I'm afraid the Inspector has a weakness. For all his bluff, tough-guy image, he cares about people. And in this case, I'd venture it was one particular person that he was most concerned about. That weakness made him stupid. He ignored what would normally be clear to a man of his experience and instead allowed himself to be seduced by his faith in his ability. That he would be able to somehow avoid what would be the normally obvious result of such a deception."
"So? You're saying that he's not with us?"
Nigel shrugged almost imperceptively. "He's a bright fellow. I'm hoping he realizes that there is no way out of his predicament except for the one that I've offered him."
Arianna frowned. "Do you think he'll do that?"
St. John shook his head. "No. But I'm prepared to deal with that eventuality if it turns out I must." A feral smile creased to older man's lined face. "Who knows? Perhaps, Henderson will prove to be of value in a completely different manner before we are done with him."
Arianna stared, bewildered, at the implacable Englishman.
************************
Lois walked into headquarters yawning. She was very tired. Funny, she wasn't able to get any sleep all night long, but now, if she'd just allow herself to put her head down on her desk, she knew she'd be out in seconds. Stifling another yawn she glanced over at Henderson's desk. He wasn't in... yet. She bit her lip. Please just let him be late, she thought.
"Lane! My office." Chief Andrews leaned his corpulent body out the door of his office, made his pronouncement, then disappeared back behind the frosted glass. Lois glared at the partially closed door.
She didn't like Andrews. He was a pig of a man in more ways than just his bloated physical stature. He had beady eyes that never seemed to look straight at you, and his whiny voice grated on her nerves. She'd never really thought that Andrews might have been on Luthor's payroll but her gut instinct had always told her not to trust the man. So it wouldn't have surprised her if she found out that he was dirty.
"Yeah, chief?" she asked as she entered the small, cluttered office.
He barely looked up from his desk. "I need you to look into an increase in gang activity near downtown." He threw a folder to the far edge of his desk toward her. "It seems that muggings and general harassment are on the increase. See what you can find out."
Lois picked up the folder and nodded. "We'll get on it as soon as Bill gets in."
Andrews finally looked up at her. "Henderson called in sick. You can go solo on this for now. Just don't get yourself into any potentially dangerous situations until you can secure backup." He cocked a brow at her. "Our health care premiums are going through the roof as it is."
"Well, I wouldn't want to cause the department any undue financial burden by getting injured or killed."
Andrews absently nodded. "Good." He shuffled a few papers around on his desk. "I guess some reporter was mugged near the Daily Planet early this morning. You can start there."
Lois felt a quick chill come over her. "Do you have a name?"
"No, but apparently this fellow came across a lady being hassled by a gang of young punks and decided to play the hero. The lady got away and called the police, but the hero got himself beat up for his efforts." Andrews looked up. "Lane?" There was no one in his office.
Lois was out the door and into her car within a minute. She started the jeep and was headed for downtown, and the Daily Planet. It had to be Clark. Who else in this city would put themselves at risk for a stranger?
As the blocks sped by she could only hope that Clark hadn't been hurt too badly. Andrews hadn't said anything about the man being hospitalized, just beaten up. Lois could just see Clark rushing to the aid of some poor beleaguered woman. It was what he'd been doing as Superman for years. But he wasn't Superman anymore. He couldn't waltz into a situation like that and expect to be able to subdue a bunch of street hoods like he'd always been able to when he had his powers. Even a police officer wouldn't have entered that alley without drawing their weapon.
But this was Clark. And even after a few months Lois could see that it was the man behind the spandex who'd made Superman who he was, not the powers. The powers just made it easier for him to be who he was. So, of course, if he saw someone needing help, he had to help. It was an instinctive reaction.
Once again, Lois felt a stab of guilt over her selfish wish that the powers never come back. That if Clark was the one, then she would never have to worry about sharing him with the rest of the world. She wasn't sure if she was strong enough, or giving enough, to endure such a situation. Could she even manage to hold onto a man who was adored by millions and could have the pick of any woman he wanted? Did she even want to try?
Lois finally pulled into a visitor's spot in the Planet's garage, and was out of her vehicle in a manner of seconds. Riding the elevator up to the newsroom on the fifth floor, it finally dawned on Lois that she should have just called Clark first. He might not even be there. If he was too badly hurt he could be in the hospital, and if he wasn't hurt badly at all, he could very well be out on some story. She'd look pretty foolish bursting into the reporters' bullpen, all worked up, only to find him gone.
Glancing at the indicator, she saw that she had three floors yet to get a handle on her emotions. She closed her eyes and practiced some breathing exercises she'd learned in her Tae Kwon Do classes. It seemed to help because when the elevator announced her arrival at the fifth floor, she was able to step off the car and onto the floor with her normal professional demeanor intact.
She took another deep breath as she spied Clark sitting at his desk working at his computer. She was just going to walk up to him all professional. Just interviewing another victim. She could do it. With another breath she began to move down the ramp toward his desk.
She couldn't do it. Sensing someone coming up behind him, he turned to face her. "Oh, Clark!" She immediately forgot all about her stoic, professional attitude.
He had a black eye, and numerous scrapes and bruises about his face. Why would anyone want to damage that gorgeous face? The backs of his hands also contained evidence of abuse. She was afraid to think what might be hidden under his shirt.
"Lois," he said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
With a resigned sigh, and a sad shake of her head, she sat on the corner of his desk. "There's been an increase in gang related assaults in the downtown area lately. Heard anything about it?" She reached out and gently caressed a particularly nasty looking bruise under one eye. He flinched from her touch.
"Well, as it just so happens, I might be able to provide you with a bit of information." Clark glanced back up the ramp. "Where's Bill?"
Her mouth drew tightly into a straight line. "Is there somewhere we can talk... in private?"
He nodded toward the conference room. "We can have some privacy in there."
The suddenly grim couple moved quickly to the conference room. Once inside, Clark drew the blinds and closed the door. Lois sat in one of the chairs. He sat in one next to her.
"Okay," she began. "First off, I am investigating these assaults, so if you would please give me a rundown on what happened."
While Clark gave her his account of the events that morning, Lois' heart ached to see the obvious signs of the beating he took. She was right to fear what she couldn't see also. Once he began to describe the cracked ribs and bruised leg muscles it was all she could do to keep from tearing up.
"So, have you called your folks yet?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No. They're still pretty busy with that new store. It's a new experience for them, running a general store. I didn't want to bother them right now."
Lois raised a brow. "Uh, huh. I see - so, when you talk to them in a couple of days and your mother asks why you are wheezing when talking to her you can just say... Oh, did I mention that I got the snot beat out of me the other day. Nothing major, just some broken bones, major cuts and contusions."
"Lo-is."
"Don't use that tone with me, Kent." Her sympathy had morphed into righteous anger. "What where you thinking? You could have been killed. Still playing the hero?" She lowered her voice. "Clark, you are not Superman anymore."
"So, what was I supposed to do? Just turn my back on the poor woman and let those young hoodlums have their way with her?" His own frustrated anger was now coming to the forefront. "I just did what any other normal individual would've done... what you would've done."
"No, a normal, rational-thinking individual would have called for the police. And me? Clark, I'm a trained police officer, it's my job to know how to handle situations like this. Besides, I have a gun."
Lois could see Clark mentally counting to ten. The tenseness in his face began to lessen, and finally he dropped his head. "I'm sorry, Lois, but I'm just not made that way. I can't turn my back on someone in trouble if I can help."
She reached over and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Of course you can't. But you have to be more careful. You're not indestructible anymore."
"I know." He looked up at her, his face brightening. "But you know what? I really am feeling a lot better than I did this morning. It doesn't even hurt to breathe anymore."
A quickly suppressed flash of fear surged through Lois. What if his powers were coming back? She pushed that thought down. She didn't want to wrestle with that dilemma just now. She had too many other things on her mind. Apparently, Clark, was able to sense that because he took her other hand in his and returned the comforting squeeze she'd given him moments ago.
"What's wrong? Where's Bill?" he asked.
"Out sick," was her terse reply.
"Is he?"
She dropped her head as a strangled sigh escaped despite her best intentions not to let it. "No."
She could feel his eyes on her. "Lois?"
She really wanted to tell Clark. Have someone to share her fears and concerns with. But did she have the right? After all, it was Bill's problem. Well, Bill's and hers. She wanted to help him. She offered to help him, but he shut her out. Truth be told, she wasn't really sure that there was a way out for Bill. She'd been racking her brain about it since he left her place so early this morning. She'd not been able to think of a way out that didn't put Bill's career and freedom in jeopardy. She wasn't really sure exactly what Bill had done to put him in such a fix. He probably wouldn't have ever brought the subject up if it hadn't been for his concern for her safety.
Her safety? Wouldn't that be a reason to confide in Clark? Bill had warned her that St. John would likely be out to eliminate her, and since it was looking more and more like her partner wasn't going to be around to watch her back, she needed someone else to do that. Clark could do that... couldn't he?
She looked up and was immediately struck by the obvious concern she saw in his eyes. The man had been Superman for crying out loud, if she couldn't trust Superman, who could she trust. Apparently not her best friend, and partner, anymore.
Seeing that the blinds had been drawn and the door was firmly closed, Lois sighed again, then in a soft voice began. "Bill came to see me this morning..."
She appreciated the fact that Clark didn't interrupt her while she told him of Henderson's visit early that morning. She gave him a capsule version of what Bill has told her, but she conveniently left out the part where St. John wanted her dead. Why confuse things with side issues. The important thing was that Bill was in trouble. She had a hard time reading his expression as she related her story. It wasn't until she'd finished that she knew what Clark was thinking, and it was far from what she'd expected.
He frowned. "Lois, I know he's your partner, but you have to go to your Chief with this."
Lois was stunned by Clark's comment. "Are you kidding? Andrews has probably been on the take since he got the job."
"Then you have to go to the Commissioner. Lois, you can't seriously condone this. Bill conspired and collaborated with known criminals in the commission of who knows how many felonies?"
"Don't be silly. He was trying to help bring Luthor to justice. I'd think you, of all people, would appreciate that."
Clark expelled a breath of frustration. "He wasn't trying to bring Luthor to justice. He was trying to bring Luthor down, regardless of the methods, or the outcome."
Lois was beginning to get angry with Clark's attitude. "Don't be naive. Undercover policemen rarely have that much control over the final outcome of their investigation. If they can build a case that will stand up in court, wonderful. If the bad guy is brought down by his own actions or the actions of others not within his control, oh well. We still have eliminated the threat."
Clark rolled his eyes. "Now who's being naive. Trading one bad guy for another doesn't solve anything. And why do you insist on calling this an undercover operation? You said that Henderson told you he had no official sanction for this. He'd decided that his goal was more important than due process and the law."
A very unladylike snort exploded from Lois as she rose from her chair. "So now you're all gung-ho about the letter of the law. Funny, a few months ago you had no problem ignoring the law. I guess Superman employs a double standard."
Clark stood and faced Lois. "It's not the same thing and you know it."
"Do I?" She turned her back on him and stalked to the door. Once there she stopped and faced him again. "All I know is that my partner, and the best friend I've ever had, is in trouble. He's in trouble because he was concerned for me. He may not want my help, but he's going to get it, and in doing so I'll probably be putting myself in more than a little danger. I just thought you'd like to help him... and me."
She grabbed the knob. "Bill Henderson may not be the paragon of virtue that you are, but he was willing to put his career, and his life, at risk because he cared what happened to me. Apparently, your personal ethics are more important to you than I am. " Lois yanked the door open. "It's good to know these things."
"Lois!"
She ignored him as she stormed out of the conference room, up the ramp and jabbed aggressively at the elevator button. She could hear Clark hurrying up the ramp after her. The elevator chime announced its arrival and the doors parted. She stepped in and punched the down button. She looked up to see the doors slide closed in Clark's face.
*************
It wasn't all that late, but the room was dark. The blinds were all drawn, and no lights were turned on. Bill Henderson sat in one corner of the room in an old chair. It was his favorite chair. One that he'd had since his college days. It was lumpy, badly worn, ugly - and the most comfortable chair he'd ever owned. Luckily, being single, he'd never had to make an aesthetic choice as to whether he should keep the chair or not.
It didn't match any other piece of furniture in the apartment, nor could it even remotely be considered a classic design. It was just old, but it was his favorite chair to sit in. Especially when he needed to be alone to think.
How had things gotten so far out of control? How had he allowed things to get so messed up? He'd always considered himself to have been a good cop, but that was in the past. Good cops didn't do what he'd done, even if they thought the ends justified the means. Like he'd told Lois earlier that morning; he wasn't proud of what he'd done, but given the same circumstances he'd probably do it again. He'd do it again for her.
He shook his head. A meaningless gesture, being alone in a dark room. If only there had been another way But he'd been reviewing the past months in his head all day and he just couldn't see where he could have passed up the opportunity that St. John had given him. Not, and have been able to effect the desired goal so quickly.
He certainly could have continued on the course he'd been on. Plugging away, using normal police procedures and methods, and continually coming up against blank walls and dead ends. Luthor was a savvy criminal; a master, actually. And, as was often true in the cases of brilliant leaders, it took betrayal from the inside to bring them down. But in the end, Luthor had been brought down. Even if Lois hadn't been forced to shoot the man, the evidence that he, along with St. John and Carlin, had managed to put in Lois and Kent's hands would have been more than enough to put Luthor away for the rest of his life.
But what now? Luthor was gone, but problems still remained. Problems that he knew he'd have to deal with. Problems he was willing to face... alone. But the devil wasn't done with him. Complications had to be added. Lois was involved now.
This whole unfortunate mess was a result of his feelings for his partner. He could tell that she had been surprised by his confessions this morning. That some of his true feelings for the woman had, inevitably, slipped out. They had always been friends. In fact, Lois had many times told him that she considered him her best friend. But it could never be more than that.
They'd actually tried the dating thing a few times, but it never seemed to work out. Aside from their jobs, the two of them really had little in common. They'd spend the day together, under high stress conditions, only to take the job with them on their dates. There was never any down time for them. They had both agreed that more than friendship just wasn't in the cards for the two of them.
Lamentably, that didn't alter his feelings for her. Lois might have been able to immerse herself in 'just' a friendship, never having emotionally gone beyond that. But for him it was too late. He was already in love with the woman. It didn't matter that he realized they weren't compatible on a romantic level. The heart seldom consults the intellect on such matters. Lois Lane was his partner, his best friend, and he loved her.
He'd long ago known that he'd give his life for her, so compromising his ethics and risking his career to save her from the dangerous machinations of a man like Luthor had been a no-brainer. He'd seen his chance to rescue her from the clutches of a man he knew had the power to destroy the woman that Lois had been, and would be, and he took it. The consequences to him were of little importance. He was strong. He would survive... somehow.
Only Lois wasn't out of danger. She was still caught up in the tangential web of intrigue that he'd managed to spin, and it was up to him to get her free of it. He wasn't stupid. He knew that running away wouldn't solve anything. St. John hadn't managed to orchestrate the recent coup by not paying attention to the details. He was too thorough. He didn't leave potential problems unanswered. If Nigel St. John had gotten it into his head that Lois Lane was a potential problem, she would be dealt with. The only advantage he had was that St. John thought that he was currently considering providing that solution.
No, just warning Lois and disappearing wouldn't resolve the dilemma. St. John was more than likely to just hire someone else to take care of the situation. Or he was quite capable of handling the problem himself. Only Lois' death would satisfy the man, and that was something that he couldn't allow.
He reached over and picked his service revolver up from the coffee table in front of him. A quick flick and spin of the cylinder confirmed that the gun was fully loaded. Something he could tell even in the dark. He'd already crossed the line this far; would it really be that hard to take the next step? Could he... for Lois?
He set the revolver back down on the table and reached for the phone sitting next to it. It was a special number. Very few people had it. It was answered by the second ring.
"St. John? This is Henderson. I've been thinking about your offer. You know that Lane is my friend and I'd really rather not see her killed... I know, but I think I have come up with an alternative solution to the problem. All I ask is that you hear me out... No, not over the phone. We have to meet."
Bill Henderson sat silently as instructions were given to him over the phone. He didn't bother to respond, he merely listened, then hung up when St. John was finished.
Allowing himself a sigh, he pulled himself out of the chair. He was under no illusion as to the outcome of this coming evening. As many, if not more things could go wrong as could the way he intended. Not one to put all his proverbial eggs into one, somewhat flimsy basket, Henderson had one more stop to make before he met with St. John.
