The wait felt interminable to Clark, though both Lois and Henderson independently assured him that the entire warrant process was being expedited. Within the hour, police had descended on the security store, warrant in hand for any client files, blueprints, or invoices referencing Luthor Tower, Lex Luthor, LexCorp, or any subsidiaries thereof. Lois and Clark were permitted to ride along, and were allowed on the premises once the building had been cleared, with strict instructions to stay out of the way.
Lois wheedled and cajoled until Jimmy also had been permitted to tag along with his camera, and he was itching for a repeat of two years ago when his photo of Luthor’s arrest had been splashed all over the front of every paper in the world.
The initial sweep of the filing cabinet turned up nothing, and Clark had a moment of panic thinking they had come so far only to hit a dead end. But then a search of the owner’s private office revealed a smaller, locked filing cabinet, which the police wasted no time busting into. And there in the bottom drawer was all the evidence they needed.
A team of officers pored over the plans, looking for the entrance, while the district attorney himself threatened the business owner with obstruction of justice if he withheld information about how to access the shelter. He caved immediately, eager to save his own hide, and pointed out the separate plans to modify the service elevator shaft of the building to extend beyond the final basement level.
“The emergency level is only accessible by turning a special key,” the owner told them hurriedly. “Each unit is keyed individually. There’s no master. We don’t keep a copy. Our clients pay a premium for the best security money can buy. That means we don’t keep copies of keys. We instruct our clients to keep one key on their person and one key somewhere secure near the unit.”
Clark looked up just in time to see Lois whip around to look at him. “His desk,” they said in unison.
That was why Luthor had made the detour to his office before disappearing. He hadn’t taken anything else from his private office or residence. He must have known he had everything he would need already stocked away in the unit. The key to the elevator had been hidden in the secret compartment of his desk.
Clark looked to Henderson to see if he too had made this connection, but he was speaking animatedly into his cell phone. Clark listened for a minute and realized he was on the phone with the judge who was signing the warrant to raid Luthor Tower yet again.
“Let’s go, people!” he said, jabbing a button on the phone. “Jackson will meet us at the building with the warrant.”
A uniformed officer relayed the issue with the key, and Henderson swore. He turned to the owner, asking about entering via the sewer, but the owner was already shaking his head before Henderson could get the words out of his mouth.
“There has to be a backup,” Jimmy said quietly, drawing Clark’s attention from the officers.
“A backup?” Clark asked. “Like an extra key? He just said-“
“No,” Jimmy interrupted, shaking his head. “An electronic backup. In case the key was damaged or destroyed. There’s always an override, no matter what that guy says.”
“You should tell Henderson,” Clark said immediately. Jimmy’s theory made sense to him, but he was no technology expert.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jimmy said nervously. “I don’t want to interfere.”
“If you’re wrong, oh well,” Clark said diplomatically. “But if you’re right, this could be crucial. We need to get in there before he finds out we know where he is.”
Jimmy hesitated a second, then nodded resolutely. He walked over to Henderson, and Clark was just about to listen in on their conversation when Lois appeared at his side.
“What was that about?”
“Jimmy says there has to be an electronic override for the key.”
“He’d know,” Lois said. “He knows more about computers than anyone I know.”
Suddenly there was a flurry of activity, and the owner made a quick phone call and handed the phone to Henderson who wrote down a long string of numbers and then held the paper in the air victoriously. He hung up the phone, clapped Jimmy on the arm appreciatively and then rounded up his officers.
“Great work, Jimmy,” Clark said as they filed out of the building and made their way to the waiting police cruisers. Jimmy flushed with pride, and Lois congratulated Jimmy, then shot Clark a grateful look that made his heart flutter. He reached for her, resting his hand on the small of her back and then helping her into the passenger seat of a cruiser and buckling her seatbelt.
He slid into the backseat beside Jimmy, and Lois twisted around and looked at him over her shoulder as they pulled away from the curb. “Riding in the back of a police cruiser is probably a new experience you don’t need to brag about to your parents. I don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence.”
“You are absolutely a bad influence,” he said, and both Jimmy and the officer driving the car laughed knowingly. “Besides…who says this is my first time?”
Her mouth dropped open and then spread into a scandalized grin. “Clark Kent!”
“I still maintain I only went to that party to make sure Pete and Lana got home safely, but the sheriff insisted on driving all three of us home and talking to our parents.
Lois cackled delightedly, “Oh, I bet you were wishing he’d just lock you up instead.”
“Are you laughing at my misfortune?” he said, mock offended. “My father was…not amused.”
“But your mother found it hilarious?” Lois guessed correctly.
He nodded and grinned, remembering her laughter once she thought he was out of earshot.
Lois laughed harder. “I can’t wait to hear Martha’s version of this.”
He smiled, filled with happiness at the sound of her laughter and the casual way she mentioned talking to his mother.
“No one was more delighted than Lana’s brothers, though,” Clark added. “They were all frequent flyers in the back of the sheriff’s cruiser and were so proud when we carried on their legacy. Though they always sulked when we were little that we were the favorites and never got in trouble for anything, so the fact that we escaped with just some extra farm chores seemed to prove their point. They whined for months that we got off too easy.”
“How did I not know you came from a family of criminals? I may have to rethink this whole relationship,” Lois teased, and he laughed as she turned to face forward again.
Luthor Tower was coming into view now, and he felt nervous energy begin to course through him. He saw Lois’ shoulders stiffen, and he wished he could touch her.
Finally they were parked, and he waited impatiently while the officer freed them from the backseat, then he went straight to her side. He rested a hand on her back and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “This is almost over.”
She turned to face him, and he expected to see her steely resolve, the practiced nonchalance she was so good at. But instead she looked scared, and his heart clenched. “You’re okay,” he whispered immediately. “I’m right here.”
She nodded tightly, her lips a thin line.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he whispered. “There are cops everywhere, and I’ll be by your side the whole time.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “It’s not that. Henderson isn’t going to let me anywhere near the action until it’s over anyway. I just…”
“What?” he asked, rubbing her arm gently.
“I don’t want to see him,” she confessed, her voice shaking. “I don’t want to hear his voice. I don’t want to be back in that sewer.”
Her fear was a knife to his heart. If only he had found her sooner. If only he had told her the truth and refused to leave her unprotected. If only.
“Of course,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry. I should have thought…. You don’t have to do this. Jimmy can take photos. We can stay out until he’s gone. You don’t have to see him. You don’t even have to go down there.”
She was quiet for a minute, her breathing uneven. Then she shook her head resolutely. “No. I have to do this. Back on the horse, you know? I can’t let him get to me. I need to show him he didn’t break me.”
“You don’t have to show him anything,” Clark said gently. “You don’t owe him a thing. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You do whatever feels right to you. You want to see him? I’ll stand right there by your side. You want to leave? We’ll leave. Just say the word.”
“Okay,” she said.
He cupped her cheek, wishing desperately that they were alone so he could hold her. “You good?” he asked.
She nodded, and he stroked her cheek with his thumb once before withdrawing his hand. “Let’s do this,” she said quietly, the tremble gone from her voice.
He stepped back and turned to face the cadre of officers huddled outside the giant glass doors that marked the entrance to Luthor Tower. They were heavily armed and wearing body armor, clearly prepared for the possibility of a shootout.
They headed inside, drawing stares, as they group moved quickly through the lobby and down the hall to the service elevator. A man in a suit, clearly hotel management, approached but stopped when Henderson held up the warrant. The man looked resigned and didn’t even bother reaching for it, and just waved them on instead.
Half the team filed into the elevator, squeezing in as many officers as would fit. Henderson stood in the doorway, holding the doors open and turned to face them. “You three stay up here with the backup officers. After the first wave clears the building, and Luthor is subdued, you’ll be allowed down.
They nodded immediately, content to stay out of danger and thankful they were being allowed in at all. Henderson stepped back and punched a long pattern of numbers on the elevator panel. The elevator beeped, and then Henderson stepped back behind the officers with shields, and the doors closed.
There was silence as the elevator descended. The faces of the officers around them were implacable. Lois’ back was ramrod straight, her heart racing. Only Jimmy seemed to be enjoying himself, and Clark envied him his naïveté.
He moved closer to Lois, resting his hand on her back and rubbing gently. He half expected her to move away, not wanting to be perceived as weak in front of the officers surrounding them. Instead she moved closer almost imperceptibly.
Around them, the officers’ radios crackled to life. “Going in.”
They listened silently to the sparse updates, declaring one room after another clear. Clark tried to stay calm and lend his strength to Lois. If Luthor wasn’t there…. He didn’t even want to think about it.
The radios crackled again, and Henderson’s voice erupted, uncharacteristically jubilant. “Suspect is in custody. I repeat: suspect is in custody!”
The group erupted into a quiet chorus of exultation. Lois turned to look at him, victory in her eyes. He smiled at her, overwhelmed with both relief and joy.
“We did it,” she said softly.
He nodded, knowing that while the arrest and capture had been a team effort, it was their investigatory work that had set the whole thing in motion. He wanted desperately to kiss her, but he didn’t dare given the audience. And then she reached up with her good arm and curled her hand around his neck, tugging him down and sealing her lips to his. His arm tightened around her waist automatically as he returned the kiss.
When they broke apart a few seconds later, he raised his eyebrows in silent question. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, blushing and smiling. He laughed, utterly enchanted by her and delighted by her public display of affection, and they turned their attention back to the group of smirking officers.
They waited anxiously as the officers below swept the rest of the shelter, looking for accomplices or hostages. Time seemed to drag on endlessly, the gathered crowds listening silently to intermittent reports of clear rooms.
Finally they were given an all clear and an officer ascended in the elevator to retrieve them. They climbed aboard the car and watched as the officer pushed the long string of buttons. The panel lit and the elevator beeped, and his stomach fluttered as the doors closed and the car began to descend.
Clark was not sure what he was expecting to see when the elevator doors opened, but it was certainly not an opulent vestibule with lush carpeting, a crystal chandelier and gilded frames on the wall holding priceless works of art.
“Is that…a real Monet?” Lois asked quietly, her tone both surprised and appalled. Jimmy had begun snapping photos, the shutter clicking quietly as he made his way around the room.
They followed the officer who had escorted them down the elevator — Detective Murphy, Clark noted, looking at the nameplate on his chest — through the vestibule to a long corridor made of what appeared to be reinforced concrete. The hallway was spartan and utilitarian compared to the entrance, but up ahead on the wall, Clark could see a series of large screens set into the wall with what appeared to be building plans.
The group slowed as they approached, and the officer gestured to the screens. “There is room for…two hundred people? Supplies for…three years? Farming implements and manufacturing tools….”
Clark felt his mouth hanging open.
“It’s not just a bomb shelter,” Lois said quietly. “It’s a full bunker. He was ready to survive the end of the world.”
The officers whispered amongst themselves, all of them clearly surprised by the extent of what had been hidden beneath the city for so long.
“Just wait,” the detective said. “It gets way creepier.”
He led the way down the hall and turned into a hallway that looked more like an apartment building. Carpet ran down the aisle and wood doors were evenly placed down each side with unit numbers on the door.
Detective Murphy reached for the first door and swung it open. Inside was an apartment. But not a standard, builder-grade, generic apartment. The apartment appeared to be lived in. The living room was decorated tastefully, family photos hung on the wall, a coat tree beside the door housed a couple of lightweight coats and a hat.
He shot a look at Lois who looked as confused as he felt, and followed the officer into the first of two bedrooms, which was also full stocked, the closet hung with the clothes, shoes lined up on the floor. A thick cardigan hung over the arm of the chair beside the bed.
Next to the chair was a large window with drapes. Clark assumed there was nothing on the other side but a wall, given their location, but the detective reached for the heavy draperies and looked at them expectantly.
“Ready for this?” he asked rhetorically. Then he pulled it open revealing a window casing. But instead of glass, the window was set with a photo of the Metropolis skyline. “It’s the same thing out the living room window. But the photo is from a slightly different angle, just like the view would be in a real apartment.”
“Are there more?” Lois asked, finding her voice.
He nodded. “Forty units. Four hallways with ten units each. About half are like this – personalized.”
“Can we see them?” Jimmy asked.
Detective Murphy nodded, and everyone filed back out, and moved on to the next unit. The structure was the same, but the decor was completely different, ultra modern and spartan with sharp edges and clean lines. There were no family photos to be seen, but in the bedroom, on the wall opposite the window, there was a large portrait of a woman sprawled on a fainting couch.
Lois tilted her head and squinted at the portrait. “Is that-”
“April Stephens,” Jimmy finished for her.
Clark looked back and forth between them, obviously missing something.
“She’s a model,” Lois said. “She came into the newsroom last year and did a photoshoot to promote a new perfume.”
“Exclusive!” Jimmy said, waggling his eyebrows.
Lois rolled her eyes. “Jimmy nearly got himself killed chasing after her like a lovesick fool.”
“Hey! That wasn’t my fault,” Jimmy protested. “The whole newsroom was drunk on love. That pheromone compound made us all lose our minds. Even Perry was affected by it.”
Clark shifted his gaze to Lois and waited expectantly. She rolled her eyes. “I was a paragon of virtue. I was too busy solving the mystery of the love potion to indulge in any theatrics.”
“Really?” Clark asked. “The whole newsroom was drunk on love and you were unaffected?”
She paused, then gave him a coy look. “The pheromone compound didn’t make people fall in love. It just eliminated their inhibitions. If there was no underlying attraction, it didn’t do anything. I guess I wasn’t attracted to anyone I ran into while I was dosed.”
“Oh,” he said, grinning.
“There are a bunch more,” the detective said, interrupting their flirtation. “The mayor. The quarterback for the Tigers. A couple business bigwigs. We couldn’t identify them all, but the personalized units definitely seem to be reserved. There’s a list somewhere that Henderson found with the names of all the units and apparently a list of potential people to add. I haven’t seen it yet.”
“This is so creepy,” Lois muttered to Clark.
He nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. He wondered if these people had purchased their way into this apocalyptic bed and breakfast or if Luthor had chosen who he wanted to use to repopulate the earth. Clark wasn’t sure which option was more horrifying.
They peeked in a few more units, and then Lois reached out and squeezed his hand quickly before letting go ahead.
“I want to see him,” she told the detective.
He hesitated. “Henderson is with him. He’s not talking.”
“I want to see him,” she repeated.
The detective spoke briefly into his radio, and Henderson gave his assent.
“Follow me,” he said.
Lois motioned for Jimmy to join them, and the three of them left the other officers to their investigation and followed down the apartment hallway, back to the main corridor. They walked for a while, then turned down another hallway. They passed a school room, a library, and what appeared to be a lounge complete with bar and grand piano.
At the end of the hallway, they reached a lobby that looked like a miniature version of the lobby downstairs with a wide staircase in place of the hotel elevators. They climbed the stairs and found themselves in a reception area that Lois recognized immediately.
“This is Luthor’s office,” she said.
The detective nodded and gestured to a thick wood door to the right of the reception desk. “That leads to his private office. It looks just like the one upstairs.”
He led them around the left of the desk and opened an identical door.
Lois inhaled sharply. Clark cast his gaze around the room, vaguely aware of Jimmy’s camera snapping away beside him. Just last week he had been in Luthor’s private residence upstairs as they searched for him on the day of his escape. And now here he was again, in a duplicate version.
It was so disconcerting, he didn’t even know what to say. Given the silence in the room, he assumed everyone else felt the same way.
They made their way through Luthor’s entryway and into his living room. Priceless artifacts dotted the room, including a full set of armor and multiple swords. On the far side of the room, a fake fire roared in front of a table laid with china and crystal. Luthor sat in the chair facing them, his hands cuffed behind his back, his ankle cuffed to the stately chair in which he sat. He was dressed in a suit, as if expecting company to dine.
Henderson sat across from him at the table. To the side, a handful of officers stood by. Beyond them, Clark saw the double doors opened onto a balcony. He hesitated, and Lois stopped too. He nodded at the balcony. A stone railing like the one upstairs ringed the tiled patio. A mural-sized photo of the view of Metropolis from his penthouse hung on the wall between the railing and the ceiling. The effect was eerie, like a funhouse version of the balcony upstairs.
Lois shuddered. He reached out and rested a hand on her back. She turned and they walked toward Luthor, who had yet to lift his head.
“Feel free to stay quiet,” Henderson was saying. “I’ve got all the evidence I need.”
Luthor looked up, his expression bored. But beneath the veneer of nonchalance Clark could see that he was rattled. His eyes slid from Henderson and landed on Lois.
“You,” he sneered with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“I know you didn’t think you could defeat me that easily,” Lois said, her eyes flashing with amusement. “I’m Lois Lane.”
“How many times do I have to kill you before you stay dead?” he snarled.
Clark saw red. All coherent thought went out of his head, and he lunged forward.
Lois stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.
“Don’t worry about him,” she said, her words dripping with pity. “He can’t do anything to me. Look at him – scurrying around the sewers like the rat he is. He can’t hurt me anymore.”
Luthor stood abruptly, furious. “You know nothing about what I can do! I own this city! I’m Lex Luthor!”
Lois laughed. “You used to be Lex Luthor. Now you’re just another inmate. I hope you enjoyed your little taste of freedom. It’s the last one you’ll ever get.”
Lois turned and walked away, and Clark turned to follow her out of the room. Behind him, he heard Henderson gloating to the DA. “Did you get all that? I heard a confession to multiple counts of attempted murders and another assault.”
Back in the outer office of Luthor’s quarters Lois began to shake, and he opened his arms to her, pulling her into a hug.
She pulled back after a minute, and he rubbed her arms. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said with a grin. “I’m great. Let’s go write this story.”
