CHAPTER 2: ThreatClark couldn’t believe four days had passed since he had given Lois the envelope full of his notes and findings on recent cases and events pointing to the existence of Intergang infiltrating Metropolis. He wondered if she had found anything, especially after he (as Superman) put out a suspicious fire just outside her uncle’s restaurant the other day--which had conveniently been reported by the Metropolis Star. He had no doubt there was something going on there.
The number of times a reporter for the Metropolis Star happened to be at the right place at the right time . . . no one was that lucky. Things were being set up and he suspected Intergang was fine with arranging their illegal activities to help the Planet's top competitor, perhaps even going as far as sending anonymous tips -- assuming they hadn't already fully bought the Star and was orchestrating something far worse.
He picked up his apartment's phone and dialed.
He smiled when Jimmy answered and said Lois would pick up shortly. He hadn't been sure if she would be at work.
His call was re-routed.
“Hello?” Lois asked.
"Hi, Lois, it's Clark Kent," he said, mindful of his voice so she wouldn't instantly identify him as Kal.
"Oh, hi! I'm glad you called," she said happily.
From the altered background noise, Clark could tell she was away from her desk and likely in a conference room, which, due to the lack of anyone else breathing nearby, was vacant save for her.
"Oh?" he asked.
"Let's just say that the bad luck I mentioned before wasn't really bad luck but opponents having inside information. The story is going to break in the morning," she said, sounding very pleased.
"If this is what I think you're talking about, I doubt it will stop here," he said. "Be very cautious."
"You think there's a connection to the power vacuum?" she asked, lowering her voice while alluding to Intergang.
"Yes. I imagine certain people would benefit greatly if the Daily Planet was no longer a concern.”
“Hm,” she muttered, considering his words. “Have you made any breakthroughs?”
“I’ve gathered some more information, but nothing that can be shared over the phone, and unfortunately nothing that would stand up in court yet,” he said.
“Well, then we should officially pool our resources,” she suggested, although he could hear a slight strain in her voice as if she was partly stunned that she was proposing any sort of the thing. “In a roundabout way we worked together to bring down Luthor. I don’t imagine either of us minding if we bring another shady enterprise down together."
"And I certainly won't turn away a good partnership," Clark said, his voice essentially beaming all on its own.
"Well, I can meet . . . shoot. I'm going to be out of the country for the end of Luthor's trial and probable sentencing soon. Hmm."
"That's okay. We can get together when you return. I need to wrap up a few side cases anyway, so this will enable me to do that before we hit this investigation hard," Clark assured, and he did have a few minor cases he needed to see Henderson about.
"Alright. That's a good idea. Well, I'll call you when it looks like I'll be back in Metropolis."
"Okay, thanks. Talk to you then."
"Bye."
Clark grinned, feeling the lightest he had felt since recovering his memories, but just as he was about to head out for a snack, a sharp shrill came to his ears before refining into speech.
“Superman,” the voice said. “I'm contacting you on a hypersonic frequency that only you and a few bats can hear. I don't know where you spend your off hours, but if I were you, I'd be at the Arboretum, east gate, inside of three minutes... or someone is going to die.”
He changed into his uniform and shot to the location of the voice. He came to an abrupt stop in front of a sharp-looking man in a grey suit.
“Hey, there,” the man greeted, holding out his hand. “Martin Snell, good to meet you.”
Kal raised an eyebrow but slowly took the offered hand, shook, and then let go.
He recognized Snell as a lawyer who often represented individuals he suspected to be employed by Intergang, and although he had no proof, it was clear the man was shady at best. Now he suspected the man’s ties were far more sinister.
“I bet you’re wondering how I made that little person-to-person,” Snell continued, retrieving a little black object from his inner pocket and holding it up near his mouth. “Superman, let’s talk. Nice little piece of equipment, eh?” he asked with a chuckle, putting the device away.
“If you wanted to arrange for a meeting, my Foundation exists for that purpose,” Kal stated plainly. “Threatening that someone will die is not a good way to get my attention.”
“I’m glad you’re taking this seriously, but I unfortunately still have to do as I was directed, which includes telling you the person who’s going to die. I think you know her. Lois Lane?” Snell asked. “I think she has about ten seconds. Think you can get there in time?”
Kal disappeared with the familiar sonic boom echoing after him.
He flew to the Daily Planet in seconds and seemingly appeared in front of Lois’ desk, surprising Lois and everyone else in the newsroom as he suddenly snatched an object out of the air right before her.
A small little rocket.
“Kal-El, wha--?” Lois asked, but before he could answer, he disappeared again and appeared beside Jimmy, catching a second projectile.
Everyone gaped, but it was the expression on his face that stunned them the most.
He was livid.
“They’re filled with paint,” he stated. “I’ll handle this.”
He vanished once more, leaving the mini rockets on Lois' desk, and no one was sure of what they had just witnessed.
Clark barely quelled the rage bubbling within him, knowing he had to think and act quickly if he was going to properly respond to this threat.
He flew high over Metropolis, gazing down and zeroing onto the District Attorney’s office after scanning the police department. Not seeing Henderson but someone else, he took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. He abruptly descended.
O o O o O
Mayson was finishing up yet another case tied to the Luthor mess. She closed the file containing evidence against one of the many small fish entrapped by the recent revelations. It was tedious and unending, but she knew the better job they did today would mean less crime committed later. It was mind numbing how quickly the bad guys would join the next crime syndicate if they managed to escape justice the first time.
She put the folder down as she spotted movement at the window before a rushing sound whirled around her office and the click of a lock seemed to echo loudly soon after.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Drake, but this is an emergency and I need to take you somewhere to observe something from a distance. I also need to borrow some subtle recording equipment. I believe this involves Intergang and that they’re trying to coerce me into doing something,” Superman said as her eyes managed to focus on his form that had appeared with a blur.
“Intergang?” she asked, standing up and opening a drawer behind her. "I have a small microphone and wireless transceiver. It's pretty short range though. Less than a block. I also have a video camera."
"That will work. Will anyone miss you for the next hour?" Superman asked as he glanced at the equipment in her hands.
"No, and when I shut my door, everyone knows I'm not to be disturbed," she said professionally.
“Good. Now, we don’t have much time. Martin Snell is at the park and I suspect he expects me to return soon. I’m sorry I can’t explain, but I’ll answer all your questions afterward,” he promised.
“Well, now that I know it involves that man, I can hardly wait for your explanation, but what is the plan?” she asked.
“You keep the recorder, and tape what you see. I’ll place you where he can’t see you. I’ll need the microphone. How close does it need to be to record properly?” he asked as she handed him a small, discreet looking rod that could be mistaken for a pen at first glance.
“Within ten feet to catch normal conversation, minimal background noise,” she said.
“That will have to do,” he said, placing it in a pocket that was subtly sewn into his cape.
She placed the camera and transceiver into her purse before placing the earpiece connected to the transceiver’s recorder by a wire into her ear so she could hear what was being recorded.
He looked at her, for the first time appearing uncertain. “I’ll need to fly us quickly. Would you prefer. . . .” He held out his hand in question.
“As long as it’s not bridal style or fireman’s carry, I’ll deal,” she said simply, stepping toward him and taking his hand more calmly than she would have months before.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m going to say some things I won’t mean. I believe my deception will be worth it,” he warned before he wrapped his other arm around her back and closed the distance so his side was touching hers.
And then her office disappeared in a blur, and for a long second she felt horribly disoriented but it quickly bled away into a feeling of simple movement. It was surreal.
They stopped and she found he had placed her in a cluster of trees across from a bench facing away from her with a man who could only be Martin Slimy Snell. Superman was already gone, leaving her with the camera and transceiver. She aimed the camera and pressed record the moment his red and blue form appeared before Snell.
“Easy. I just wanted to get your attention so we could have a talk," she heard Snell say through the earpiece, which was a relief. It meant the microphone was working.
Superman glared. Actually glared. "What do you hope to accomplish by antagonizing me?"
“Wow, you remind me of a few judges I know. Okay, I’ll cut to the chase: like everybody else on Earth, you've got me dazzled. I'm a fan -- numero uno. So I don't want you to stop being the Man of Steel. It's a beautiful thing, it gives us all hope. But what my partners and I do want is for you to stay out of our business."
Superman sighed heavily and surprised both Mayson and Snell by going to the bench, sitting down, and then motioning Snell to sit beside him (keeping Snell's back to Mayson).
"Look, I've been on Earth long enough to know there are some things I'll never be able to change. Human nature, specifically. I've also learned it's better to work with the established way of things. Which is primarily why, as I've said multiple times, I don't want to arrest people, and frankly don't want to be involved with the law beyond making sure people are kept out of harm's way.
"I can see you represent a serious group of people, and, considering the high tech weaponry I just had to intercept, pretty powerful. So how about this, to keep things civil, I'll stay out of your business as long as you -- A. Don't harm children -- and B. don't do anything to make it my business."
Snell leaned back. "You are a strange one."
"I'm not human, how is my being strange a surprise to you?"
"Hm. Well, you give a very interesting proposition. I must say I didn't expect this. I may have painted you wrong. I can say we will do our utmost to do no harm to children. I know a number of my benefactors are family men and abhor such things. Unfortunately, there may be instances where we cannot ensure your second request but will still require you to not interfere."
Superman didn't move, and Mayson wished she could see his face.
"However, maybe something can be arranged in those cases?" Snell suggested, not allowing his pause to stretch too long.
"Arranged?” Superman asked.
“Well, some more donations for that Foundation of yours for one,” Snell said pointedly.
Superman paused, seeming to consider it, and Mayson was impressed by the act.
“I’ll need to know more about who you represent and a bit about what you’re doing so I know who to avoid and what not to interfere with,” Superman said finally.
Snell straightened, and Mayson could easily imagine his triumphant expression--she had seen it first hand a few times in court unfortunately.
“Well, I can’t go revealing that quite yet, especially not before certain people give permission, but perhaps I could get back with you?” Snell offered.
“I suppose that would be fair,” Superman allowed.
“Until then, may I simply ask you to stay out of the Southside?” Snell kindly asked.
“As long as there are no notable emergency calls,” Superman said.
“Very good, and please expect an anonymous donation to your Foundation by the end of the week,” Snell returned.
Superman stood up and gave a curt nod.
“I’ll contact you when I’ve heard from the higher ups,” Snell said, holding out his hand as he stood as well.
“Very well,” Superman said, before stepping back and disappearing with a sonic boom.
Mayson stood frozen, a little confused when she didn’t hear static in her earpiece at his departure (which should have happened if the mic was on Superman). Instead, she heard Snell chuckle softly.
“Well, I didn’t expect that. Did you, Mr. Church?” Snell asked into the air.
Mayson slowly lowered herself further into the brush to ensure she remained hidden as she pressed her hand over her earpiece, suddenly unable to breathe.
Clark had been right!
She remained still, quickly concluding that Intergang was listening and likely observing the area just as she was.
Had she been seen? Did Superman know the area was under surveillance? It would explain his hasty movements. And where had he placed the microphone?
"Maybe we won’t need to find a way to kill him after all," Snell commented before walking off.
It was a full minute later, squatting in the thicket and praying no one would find her when she felt Superman step beside her.
“I'm sorry. I had to wait until they had left, otherwise I would have returned sooner,” Superman explained as she stood up.
“It’s fine. I just overheard something that I think you’ll be interested in. Come on. I’ll play it back to you in my office,” Mayson said, ignoring the leaves brushing against her arm.
He nodded and did as she directed, returning them to her office seconds later.
Stepping away from him and swallowing back her disorientation from the swift flight, she placed the recorder on her desk and pressed a few buttons. “We need to get Henderson and someone else I know in on this.”
“Alright,” Superman said.
The recorder began rewinding.
While they waited, Mayson anxiously spoke, “You understand how close you are to this now? Intergang believes they have you in their pocket now,” she warned, glancing up at him. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I’ve essentially lived ‘undercover’ for well over ten years, Ms. Drake. Considering what I know about Intergang, they need to be taken down. I’ll help in any way I can and I see this as the surest way of doing so,” Superman said as the recorder stopped.
“As long as you’re sure,” she said before pushing play.
O o O o O
Lois closed and locked the door behind her, set on packing for her trip to cover the end of Luthor's trial.
The Star was dealing with the fallout of the evidence of them orchestrating accidents to get scoops and prison time was inevitable for a number of editorial staff and others--and rightly so. She still couldn't believe Linda had come to her for help, but as conceited as they both could admittedly be, they knew where to draw the line.
Unfortunately, despite their efforts, the more serious implications were not ready to be tried in court. Intergang got a reprieve there, but at least the Planet was not in danger of falling into the red as it had been.
Lois sighed, bringing in her laundry basket and getting on the dreaded, eternal task of folding clothes. Fortunately, she had handled most of it the night before, so now there were only shirt tops and socks left, but still. She hated folding and matching socks.
Sitting down on the couch, she pushed the basket over, letting the contents spill out onto the cushions as she picked up the top article of clothing. In the middle of folding her third shirt, she suddenly heard a soft ‘taptap’.
“Kal-El!” she said, quickly abandoning her mound of jumbled shirts.
"Hi, Lois," he greeted as she opened the window and motioned him in.
Although he was smiling, his posture was serious, and considering what had happened earlier that day, it was no wonder.
"Sorry I haven't been able to catch you before now," he said. "The few times I've tried I didn't hear you or could tell you were asleep."
"It's alright. Things have been pretty hectic lately," she assured, before digesting what he just said. "What do you mean by ‘hear me’?" she questioned.
"Your heartbeat," he said with a shrug. "It's the easiest way for me to locate people without, uh, completely invading their privacy."
She blinked, faced with yet another aspect of his world.
"So . . . you can identify people by the sound of their heartbeat?"
"Well, yeah. Every heart is different, so even though rhythms can sometimes be indistinguishable, the sound is . . . unique to each individual. It's hard to explain."
She smiled softly. "That's amazing."
Kal grinned before following her further into the room.
“Oh, I, uh, am packing for my trip,” she explained, quickly stuffing the shirts back into the basket and righting it, embarrassed by the mess but exceedingly grateful she had taken care of the undergarments the night before.
He nodded, unsurprised. “You're covering the end of Luthor’s trial and his sentencing, right?"
"Yeah. Perry figures it fitting, considering everything."
Kal smiled. "You definitely deserve to be there to see this to its conclusion personally."
"Will you be there?" she asked, curious - and somewhat hopeful.
"Probably not. Knowing Justice is being done is enough for me, though I'd be lying if I said I'm not relieved about his likely fate, as awful as that might sound."
"It's not awful, just sad that Luthor's choices have resulted in such. And I know you're not the only one feeling that way," Lois said before taking a deep breath. "So, did you take care of whoever was responsible for those rockets?"
"Partially. Unfortunately it's part of a bigger problem," he said as she put the basket on the floor so they could both sit on the couch. Superman glanced at the basket. "Would you like some help with that?" he asked.
"Oh, I couldn't ask you to--"
"It's no problem," he said, taking the initiative and simply moving. Five seconds later, there was a stack of neatly folded shirts on the table beside a small pile of paired socks.
"Wow. You must be great around the house."
Kal chuckled as he sat down beside her. "My parents think so. When I first started zipping around, my dad would just make up stuff for me to do just to see how quickly I could do it. Turned it into a game.”
Lois smiled. “I’m so glad you got your memories back,” she said, deciding not to press further just then, despite every reporter instinct itching to barrage him with questions.
“Me too,” he agreed before returning to their prior topic. “Anyway, the rockets -- I believe they were sent by Intergang. I’m currently working with an assistant DA to gather evidence.”
Lois’ eyes widened. “Intergang! So Kent was right! They really are moving in to fill the void Luthor left behind!” She took in his surprised look. “Oh, Kent is a P.I.. He’s been helping with a lot of cases in Metropolis. I think I mentioned him before?” She thought she had, but considering how busy things had been, perhaps he did not remember.
“You have,” he said, before adding, “Ms. Drake is actually planning on bringing him in on this investigation.”
Lois wished she knew what he was thinking, but then she recalled something.
“That bank robbery. The one where they used bullets made of different materials,” she said, omitting the suspected motive. “Do you think that was Intergang as well?”
“Undoubtedly. They’re really doing all they can to take Luthor’s place,” he said.
“And you’re in their way,” Lois said, smirking.
“I’m hard to move," Kal said with an amused shrug before glancing at the window. "However, I'm also working on a more subtle approach with Ms. Drake, which I'll explain when you return. Anyway, I should be going. Admittedly, I have my own laundry to do.”
Her eyebrows rose slightly, both at wondering what the 'subtle approach' was and trying to imagine him doing laundry. In the end, she realized she still had a lot of packing to do and that sating her curiosity would have to wait. “Okay. I need to finish packing anyway. Thanks for stopping by.”
“No problem, Lois. Glad I managed to catch you before you left,” he said with a smile. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Lois returned, before he disappeared. Her window gently closed behind the sound of his sonic boom.
O o O o O
Clark hovered above the clouds overlooking the Southside of the city, his eyes peering down and scanning for anything suspicious.
He didn't need to wait long.
In his civilian clothes, he landed in the alley across the way and immediately dashed over to Café Americana just under the speed that would be abnormal for a human.
"Come on, old man, let's see how tough you really are!" a young man shouted, brandishing a bat at Mike Lane as two other rough looking men aggressively blocked any escape behind the determined but nervous restaurant owner.
Clark's hand didn't hesitate as it closed around the end of the bat, just as the man swung it back. Clark yanked it away, allowing it to clatter onto the pavement behind him.
"Three on one? Let's even it up a bit," Clark said, dodging a fist and pulling back his own.
His knuckles made contact with the first man’s jaw, and it was with careful force that he merely jostled out two molars. The man went down with a stunned yelp as Clark turned his attention to the other two.
“Where did he come from?!” the left one in a red shirt cried while retrieving a switchblade from his back pocket.
“Knife!” Mike warned, but Clark was already moving.
Red-shirt dropped the knife as soon as Clark's fist whacked against his wrist and fell when Clark followed up with a second strike to his chest. The third thug charged Clark as red-shirt landed with a thud, but Clark expertly tossed him over his shoulder thanks to years of military training.
The three defeated men groaned on the ground.
“Are you alright?” Clark asked, looking at Mike.
Mike blinked, in disbelief of what had just happened while trying to recall where he had seen this man before because he looked very familiar.
"Yes. Thanks," Mike said as he suddenly remembered. "You had dinner here with my niece last week. P.I. Ke…" He trailed off, not sure of his name as he held out his hand.
"Kent. Clark Kent," Clark said, taking his offered hand and giving it a firm single pump before letting go.
"That's right. I’m not sure why you came by, but I'm glad you did. I wouldn’t have been able to take all three,” Mike said, waving at the still defeated men around them.
"Glad I could help. I actually just came by to ask you about the arson attempt on your place recently," he said as they heard police sirens.
"I called Lois, so she must have called the police for me since this area hasn't been getting a fast response from them lately."
Clark frowned. "I see."
Intergang apparently had more power than he already feared.
O o O o O
Lois clasped her hands in front of herself as Luthor was brought out. The last several days of the trial had fluctuated between being agonizingly boring (the monotonous back and forth bureaucracy), frighteningly enlightening (the endless reveals of what Luthor had done), and disgustingly putrid (whenever she looked at Luthor).
She never had believed someone could be the embodiment of evil, but she did now, and Luthor could be that someone.
The day of the verdict finally arrived, and after the standard protocols had been followed, the spokesman for the tribunal stood up.
"The tribunal finds Alexander Luthor guilty of eight counts of murder in the first degree, guilty of five counts of murder in the second degree, guilty of three counts of attempted murder, guilty of four counts of sabotage." The man took a breath and Lois' eyes widened as the man continued. "Guilty of twenty counts of extortion, guilty of seven counts of reckless endangerment, guilty of racketeering, guilty of conspiring to commit mass murder." He flipped to the next sheet to continue reading.
Three minutes later, the list of verdicts had all been read.
That had to have been the longest list of guilties in the history of criminal justice read in one go. There had only been three ‘not guilty’s.
Lois looked at Luthor, knowing she wasn’t the only one staring at him.
He looked disgusted by it all, but not at all concerned over what he had done. It was as if he felt the convictions held no actual weight and it was all an annoying inconvenience. As if it was all beneath him.
Sentencing would be the following week. She wondered if he would remain as carefree then.
O o O o O
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