EarthLois leaned over a beleaguered keyboard as she banged out a story about a counterfeit designer shoe scam, a lightweight subject that some might deem unworthy of her extensive investigative talents. But she had uncovered that this racket had made enough profit to be pursued at a federal level. Considering that certain designer labels could go for as much as five hundred dollars a pair, even at the counterfeiters half-price, they had made a tidy sum while cutting the designers out of a considerable amount of money.
There was also a personal reason. Unbeknownst to her at the time, the last pair of designer red pumps she had purchased were from this same counterfeit ring. Lois couldn’t get her money back, but she was sure going to make those crooks pay!
Before sitting down to type up the article, she made sure Henderson and Cat were informed about the story. She brought Henderson in, so the cops could swarm the sweatshop near Hobbs Bay where the shoes were illegally produced. No doubt the working conditions in those places were deplorable and the immigrant workers, some of whom where young teen-agers, made a pittance.
Cat was informed, so that she could mention the raid, sotto voce, of course to a few celebrities. After Cat put the word out the news would hit the Hollywood grapevine faster than a speeding bullet. No way would established stars, or even up-and-comers want their public image tarnished if they were caught with tainted goods. With a few more aggressive strokes on the keyboard, her ‘sweatshop’ shoe article was ready for submission to Perry. Thus far, this story had yielded more satisfaction than the medical insurance company story that she had been ‘working on’ for two months.
Two months.
Over the course of two frustrating months, Lois and Jimmy had diligently labored to uncover information on the RoxxTen insurance story by interviewing former patients, health care professionals and others in the industry. It was disappointing that Clark’s old friend, Dr. Pete Ross, couldn’t provide any assistance, even though he wanted to. Neither his neurological medical practice nor any of his patients had ever interacted with the company in any capacity.
Inspector Henderson and Detective Reed had grudgingly provided some crumbs of information, but these all turned out to be dead ends. Whenever a solid lead seemed to materialize, it would just as quickly slip like water through her fingers.
The original source that Nolan had pointed to, Elden Kraft, had left the company and apparently the entire state of New Troy before she could contact him. No one, neither his family nor friends had heard from him since. A prickly feeling went down her back. Had the accountant simply departed, moving on to greener pastures, or had Intergang played a more direct hand in his sudden disappearance? Maybe that was why Henderson wasn’t being immensely helpful – even less so than usual? Were the Feds already investigating this case and wanted the MPD and a certain Daily Planet reporter to stay out of it?
Perry also wanted her to drop the story. In his mind the well had run dry. But her intuition told her there was something yet to be found in the story, and that kept her from letting it go. She planned on quietly following the scanty breadcrumb trail and seeing where it led. While this investigation was going on, her article productivity had returned to where it had been when Clark had been with her. Mad Dog Lane, despite the loss of her partner and fiancé, was back.
A very audible groan broke through her thoughts. She looked up to see it was Eduardo. He had just finished hanging up the phone.
“Problem?” Lois asked in a sympathetic voice.
“You betcha there’s a problem! The Wittinger Museum was broken into last night. The walls and ceilings were installed with a state-of-the-art security laser surveillance system, supposedly it tracks every single piece of art in the building. If any of those paintings are moved or even touched after closing hours an alarm goes off. Yet somehow the thieves got away clean with a couple of very important paintings by Degas;
The Millinery Shop and Landscape at Valery-Sur-Somme.”
Lois arched an eyebrow, “Ah, wasn’t he known for painting ballet dancers?”
“Yeah, but he was one of the leaders of the impressionist movement, so there were other subjects he painted. These paintings were on loan from the San Francisco Museum of Art.
“Impressive Eduardo. I had no idea you knew so much about French art.” Lois said with a smile.
He shrugged, smiled and said, “Hey, you learn a lot on the city beat! In any case, the museum is crawling with cops, insurance agents and some very nervous museum officials. I had plans to interview Mr. Darden, the curator for the weekend section. Surprise! He’s unavailable. I have to write about the heist and get background research on the paintings themselves, get the story written and submit pronto! Excuse me.” He stood, grabbed his black leather jacket from the back of his chair and cried out, “Stacy!”
Lois watched as he departed for the research department. Evidently Stacy, one of the Daily Planet’s research assistants, was going to be putting her considerable talents to work very soon. Jimmy was probably glad to be on a photo assignment with Myers. Otherwise he might have been asked to do the Eduardo’s Degas research.
The phone rang, and Lois swiftly picked it up. “Lois Lane, City Desk.”
<< Your friend, Molly Flynn calling from her company’s phone! How are you?>>
A genuine smile appeared on Lois’ lips. It was good to hear her old college friend’s voice again. “Hey there, I just finished up an article. Are we still on for lunch?”
<<Sure are! Meet you at Lubrano’s around noon? Their autumn soup line is wickedly good.>>
“Yes! See you then.”
<<Good. ‘Cause I have some news you might be interested in hearing. If it’s motivating, you pick up the bill for lunch. Ciao!>> With that her friend hung up.
Absentmindedly rubbing her chin Lois mused, “Hmmm, wonder what has Molly sounding so mysterious?”
At twelve-fifteen, Lois stepped into
Lubrano’s; the heady fragrances of Northern Italian cuisine, garlic, tomatoes, and a touch of basil, tickled her nose and caused her empty stomach to growl in anticipation. Molly’s vivid red hair could be seen across the sea of white linen covered tables. She was carefully perusing the menu, no doubt looking for something vegetarian.
Zigzagging around the tables, waitstaff and other patrons, Lois approached her table, sat down, and said eagerly, “So what’s this news? Oh, my goodness! Your leg!” Lois was aghast and looked down at the ugly white and blue plastic cast.
A slight flush of red appeared on her face. “Two nights ago, at the gym I accidentally dropped a five-pound free weight on my foot. Dr. Siebert says the fracture will take between six to eight weeks to mend.”
Relieved that her friend was not seriously hurt, but a little disappointed that it wasn’t the result of something more newsworthy, Lois said. “That’s your news? Not exactly something to be so mysterious about.”
“Nope. Dr. Siebert is.” Molly said crisply. “He’s been our family physician for years! My Dad and he still play golf together. The man is practically family.”
From previous experiences Lois was aware Molly would not make a big deal over nothing. She leaned forward with a conspiratorial air and asked, “Family, huh? What did he do? Overcharge for the visit and the cast? Is he pulling the same stunt on other patients?”
“Ha! Nothing so benign as that! He is furious with RoxxTen. The insurance company hasn’t made a single payment yet for his medical services, but they continue sending him patients. Some of them are seriously ill and need to be referred to a specialist. He finally ended his association with the company two months ago because of their shady behavior. He plainly told their representative that while I was in the office.”
“Wow. He has some nerve saying that in front of a patient.”
She shrugged. “It was the end of the day, and I was the last patient in the waiting area. The company representative, a Mr. Simcoe, was pushing him to start seeing patients for them again. Since Dr. Siebert is a well-respected physician, having him on the provider list encourages other doctors to join. If he is off the list, his peers will follow suit and leave. Simcoe may have pushed, but Dr. Siebert doesn’t scare easy.”
“Scare? Wait a minute. This sounds like the rep actually threatened him.”
Molly gave Lois a tight smile. “Yeah. Simcoe is tall, with dark curly hair, cold grey eyes, and a really weird low voice, I couldn’t hear any specific words, but his manner was definitely threatening.”
“It doesn’t sound like this Simcoe is very smart to make threats in front of a witness.”
“No, he isn’t. He doesn’t know Dr. Quinton Siebert’s history either. Over fifty years ago he and several thousand American paratroopers of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions made night parachute drops, behind enemy lines, early on D-Day. With an experience like that under his belt, nothing much frightens him. Anyhow, wouldn’t talking with him help you with the RoxxTen article? You could, you know, get the Doc’s, view of things? Maybe I can set up an interview?”
“That’s great! But would he want to talk with me? He might get some backlash from his medical associates.” Lois said.
Her friend chuckled, a merry sound that caused a few of the patrons to turn around and smile at the two young women. “He and his wife are getting ready to retire to the wilds of Alaska to fish for salmon and build a cabin, so repercussions from anyone in or out of the medical community are important to him.”
Lois’ face lit up, she said, “This is the break in the RoxxTen investigation I’ve been waiting for! I appreciate the tip. Lunch is on me!”
Satisfied that the information would help her friend, Molly leaned back and said. “Glad I could be of help. Let’s order, my stomach is starting to growl – even louder than yours!”
Lois flagged down a waiter and the two women ordered. Lois had a steaming bowl of Minestra d’orzo - lobster soup with orzo while Molly ate
Zuppa di verze e patate – cabbage and potato soup with hot garlic bread and spicy olive oil for dipping.
Pointing at Lois’s bowl Molly groaned. “Lobster? Seriously? When are you going to stop eating meat? Once upon a time that poor crustacean was minding his own business scuttling across the ocean floor. Now he’s your lunch!”
“Back off, Flynn! I’ll stop eating meat when you give up carbs! That garlic bread is loaded with enough calories to sink a barge!” Lois returned without heat.
Again, Molly’s happy chuckle over their easy banter drifted across their table, but then she became serious. “It’s good to see you taking an interest in being with people again. For a while there, Clark’s abduction was a heavy shadow over your life. It made me sad to see you in so much pain. I feel like my return from the West Coast could not have come at a better time.”
Lois nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. Happy memories of Clark keep me going. I have a lot to be thankful to him for. The best way to repay that was by living, not crawling into a shell of misery. Clark’s parents … need me to be there for them. They are hurting just as much as me.”
For a long moment, the two women stared at each other, sharing a wordless communication of empathy. Finally, Molly broke the silence by saying gently. “Eat your soup, Lane. Perry White doesn’t want his star investigative reporter dying of malnourishment. And Clark doesn’t need to come back to a scarecrow! There’s an important case to be solved. Maybe this one will lead to another one of those awards you’re always winning.”
Deeply appreciating the words of support, Lois drew in a breath and said. “Th …thanks Molly. With this lead, who knows where the story might end up?”
The redhead shrugged, “After you and that hunk Superman saved me from my crazy ex-boyfriend Ryan, it’s the least I can do.” Deftly switching the subject, she said, “Hey how about coming over next week? I’m writing a new book and your input would be invaluable.”
Lois frowned. “Not another book bad-mouthing technology?”
“Nope, this one is a vegetarian cookbook! You can’t cook, but you do like to eat! It’ll be fun. I’m having a taste-testing party for some of the recipes. If carnivores like the meals I’ve whipped up, the book is gonna be a smash!”
Lois groaned, rolled her eyes, and sighed, while Molly, with a flourish, tore off a crust of bread and dipped it into the flavorful olive oil.
***
The following day, Lois was once again working on another story, but she found that it filled her with mixed feelings. Not long after breaking parole, The Prankster was arrested in Gotham City. He was found tied to a lamppost and babbling to the policemen on the scene to protect him from ‘The Bat.’
Lois looked around to see if anyone was close by before she mumbled, “Bruce Wayne really needs to decide whether he’s going to stay in the shadows or actually appear as Batman rather than simply terrifying the bad guys. Maybe after he marries Silver St. Cloud things will be different. He’s giving vigilantes a bad rap.” She reached into the middle desk drawer for a Double Fudge Crunch bar.
“Lois! There’s a call for you on Line 6!” Stacy called over the noise of the bullpen.
Picking up the receiver, she said. “Lois Lane. City Desk.”
A distinguished, mature male voice came over the line. <<Good day, my name is Quinton Siebert, Miss Flynn’s doctor. You wanted to ask me a few questions about RoxxTen’s fraudulent practices?>>
“Dr. Siebert! Yes, I’ve been expecting your call.” Lois grabbed a pencil off the desk and hunted through her chaotic desk for a new notepad.
<<I know reporters are always concerned about deadlines. Is this an appropriate time for us to converse?>>
She found the notepad and quickly flipped to a new page. “We can talk right now! Go ahead. Start with the obnoxious RoxxTen company representative who visited recently.”
<<Perhaps I can do better than that. A messenger should be arriving at the Daily Planet in a few minutes with all my personal records regarding RoxxTen. As a matter of fact, five of my patients who were supposed to be insured by them are willing to come forward for interviews as well. They have had to pay their bills out-of-pocket since RoxxTen refused to do so. Some of those payments run into thousands of dollars. As the saying goes; ‘Why pay insurance premiums if I must pay the full cost of the doctor’s bill anyway?’>>
Lois nearly jumped out of her seat. “Thank you, Dr. Siebert! That material will be invaluable! If you provide the patients’ names they can be interviewed.”
A dry chuckle was heard over the line. <<Indeed. I can’t give out patients’ names, but I can give them your contact information. As soon as I told them you were interviewing me, four of them said they wanted to come down to the Daily Planet offices as soon as possible.>>
Writing quickly Lois stopped and said. “No need for that. I can interview them over the phone. What about the fifth person?’
<<I can’t give you a name, but one of my patients is home recovering from an emergency appendectomy. The procedure was paid for by her husband’s insurance, not RoxxTen. Earlier this year, her young son broke his arm from a bicycle accident. As per the insurance provider’s protocol, they contacted RoxxTen as soon as they reached the emergency room. A customer service representative, assured her the ER fee would be paid for, but three months later they started receiving phone calls from the hospital’s accounts payable department demanding payment. RoxxTen had not paid the bill and now they refuse to take their calls. They were forced to pay for the ER visit themselves to avoid creditors calling them.>>
“That’s terrible!” Lois cried out in disbelief.
A heavy sigh came from Dr. Siebert. <<Yes, it is. There’s no doubt that that particular customer service representative they talked to will have been dismissed by now. Imagine if you will, Miss Lane, dozens of people like the this family, honest, hard-working folks who pay their insurance premiums and expect to receive the proper treatment. By writing an article which exposes these illegal practices, many others shall avoid similar pain by either avoiding or dropping RoxxTen as their medical insurer.>>
Despite being separated by a phone line, the doctor’s empathy resonated in her heart, reminding her of another person who was just as compassionate about his fellow man. It fueled her conviction to continue working on the story and nailing whoever at RoxxTen was responsible.
“Ah, Dr. Siebert, Molly mentioned an incident between you and a RoxxTen rep?”
<<Oh, yes. Mr. Kevin Simcoe was somewhat determined to get me back onboard. My refusal was not what he wanted to hear, and he was not happy with my decision. Should he return, I shall call the police.>>
“He was violent?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
<<No. But his tone of voice and veiled threat was close enough for me. This ‘discussion’ between us took place in a medical facility, not the backroom of a Roaring Twenties Speakeasy. He did not want to make a scene, even though only Miss Flynn and my receptionist were present. I made a formal complaint to RoxxTen and told them not to send anymore representatives. My association with the company is completely at an end.>>
Through their entire conversation she never heard a tremor of fear or wavering of his convictions. Molly had been right on that score; it was going to take more than a surly RoxxTen employee to panic this man. “If you can put your patients in touch with me, I would be more than happy to interview your patients once we are finished.”
<<Thank you Miss Lane. RoxxTen Insurance has caused enough difficulties for my practice and many others. It would be a distinct pleasure to work with you and put an end to the company’s illegal behavior.>>
Once the conversation ended, Lois sat staring at the monitor and letting her thoughts drift to Clark. No doubt he would have appreciated working with Dr. Siebert on this investigation. She glanced at the calendar; it was Tuesday, the twelfth of the month. Hopefully if all went well there would be a message from New Krypton in Clark’s apartment on Friday.
A well-known voice broke through her thoughts. “Uh, Lois? Much as I hate to intrude on your daydreaming about winning the Pulitzer, care to finish up that Prankster article? We’re going to press, and I needed the copy twenty minutes ago.”
Her fingers sprang to action and with ten keystrokes the article was complete, she hit the send button, turned to Perry and said. “One Prankster article on its way to you, Chief!”
“Good,” he rumbled. “Because this is a newspaper, not Waikiki Beach!” Turning away from her, he quickly moved to his next victims. “Olsen! Where are those pictures? Huckabee, is the Beechmont Transit Strike article finished?”
Perry prowled the newsroom floor. He was always at his happiest when barking out orders. Behind all the bluster, he was more than a little pleased that Mad Dog Lane had returned to doing what she did best, namely writing the finest investigative stories in the state of New Troy. He didn’t know what had shaken her out of her complacency. Nevertheless, he was grateful for it.
***
That evening, she sat cross-legged on the couch, going over sheets of interview notes from various discussions with patients whose medical payments had been ‘overlooked’ by RoxxTen. Each interviewee had the same story and could give names of others who had suffered as well. The article was taking the shape of a huge scandal.
Sweet thoughts of Clark slipped unbidden into her mind. Right now they should be discussing different angles on which the article could be written - between bites of some completely delightful and no doubt unique meal he had whipped up and brought over via Superman express. A slow smile spread across her face. Maybe they would have done a little breaking and entering of RoxxTen’s New Troy facility?
The shrill ringing of the phone broke the evening quiet.
She glared at the interrupting device and wondered who in the world would be calling her at this hour. Picking up the handset, she said. “Hello?”
A welcomed voice came over the line. “Good evening dear. Jonathan and I were wondering how you are doing? It’s getting close to the fifteenth.”
“I’m fine Martha. Keeping busy with the RoxxTen investigation. Speaking of which, did you find a new medical insurance provider?”
"Yes! Pete supplied the name of a company that will take care of both of us without charging a fortune. Thanks for telling us about RoxxTen’s illicit shenanigans Lois.” Her voice lowered to a whisper and said. “With Jonathan’s heart condition we need a reputable medical insurance company that pay what they promised. Doc Stewart is an excellent physician, but cardiology is a specialty outside of his skills as a General Practitioner. I also told Maisie at the diner. By Sunday, the entire county will know about RoxxTen and will transfer to the company Pete suggested.”
Lois considered Jonathan another father and the thought of anything happening to him did not bear thinking about. Concern crept into Lois’s voice as she asked, “How is he? Has he been following Dr. Stewart’s diet and exercise routine?”
“Yes! We both are. It’s taking some getting used to cooking a different way, but Jonathan has already lost five pounds. Please thank your Uncle Mike for that recipe of pesto sauce with fresh lemon; it was a big hit! At this rate, Clark won’t recognize his father when he gets back,” Martha said in a slightly reflective tone.
“Oh, that is good news! Mike will be happy to know the recipe has another satisfied customer. He’s introduced a few low-fat dishes to Café Americana’s menu and they are gaining popularity from his long-time patrons as well as the young, trendy crowd.”
For the first time since her son’s disappearance to New Krypton a lighter tone was heard in Martha’s voice. They all needed to remain positive and one of the best ways to do that was to continue living as normal a life as they could until Clark’s return.
The conversation moved into other topics, one in particular was the new library being built in the center of Smallville. The Kents had played huge roles in making that a reality. Lois was so happy to have such a strong relationship with Martha. It was a blessing to call this woman a friend, and yet she was more than that. They were about to end the conversation when Martha said, “Be careful with this investigation dear, there are bound to be unseen rocks in the field.” The unspoken words rang out loud and true: Clark isn’t here to protect you anymore.
Lois’ heart gave a little tug, then she said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. Give my love to Jonathan.”
“I will. Let me know as soon as the RoxxTen article is ready to print. We would love to read it! Good-night.”
***
“Glad you didn’t listen to me, just like Elvis didn’t listen to the Colonel that time in Lake Tahoe. Exceptional stories take lots of time and fact checking!” Perry smiled in triumph. “It’s going on the Wednesday evening edition’s front page. I’d love to be a fly on the wall in the RoxxTen executive suite when this story hits!”
“Thanks Perry. There was something about the arrogance of RoxxTen’s behavior towards its clients that really got to me. Clark would have …” Her voice trailed off and she looked over her shoulder into the newsroom at the empty desk near hers. Perry had held off the executives’ demands that he hire someone to take Clark’s place, and she deeply appreciated his kindness. Nonetheless, the empty desk and chair were yet another painful reminder that Clark was so very far away.
The Chief allowed for a moment of silence, then covered his own painful feelings on the subject with a gruff. “Get back to work young woman! Remember you’re only as good as yesterday’s headline. Besides, once this hits the newsstands there are going to be a lot of phone calls from RoxxTen’s spin doctors anxious to cover their bosses’ tails … um tales!”
Health Insurer Clients pay, but no Coverage?
By Lois LaneSeveral Metropolis residents are curious as to why the New Troy based health insurer, RoxxTen is not providing their clients with doctors, nurses, and home care aids – in short legitimate coverage that their premiums paid for. On the other side of the equation, doctors and other health care professionals are not being paid for their services. In one situation, a RoxxTen company representative threatened a doctor who had canceled his agreement with the medical insurer.Story continues on A3
***
It was Thursday, the fifteenth of October. Neither Perry nor Lois had to wait long before the company ‘fixers’ went to work trying to repudiate the article. RoxxTen vigorously denied the claims, stating the patients were victims of ‘clerical mismanagement’. A mass mailing was being done to assure their clients that RoxxTen was fully aware of the problem and mandatory steps were being taken to correct matters ‘in-house’.
stating that RoxxTen had also ‘mismanaged’ their payments and that they were thinking of pursuing legal action. On the other hand, some callers said the insurer was a reputable company, so why slander them? The latter group was tiny in comparison with the former.
It felt good that she had once again pulled the lid off an unpleasant situation and rather exotic creatures had crawled out. With any luck, her article would result in RoxxTen halting their current backdoor policy and paying off both their clients and healthcare providers. She was amidst outlining her next story when Jimmy said. “Lois, call on line four.”
“Hello, Lois Lane.” No Knees Nolan’s distinctive voice came over the line. <<Capital work. The story on RoxxTen was a salve to my heart and balm to my eyes.>>
“How goes the pneumonia recovery?” Lois asked, curious about the information broker’s own health.
<<Happily, the enforced inactivity was good for me. But I need to be quick. The company rep, Mr. Simcoe, who threatened the doctor in your article is no longer in the employ of RoxxTen. But then, he never truly did work for them anyway.>>
Curiosity piqued, Lois asked. “Oh yeah? Who did he really work for?”
<<Ah yes, I don’t know the facts on that matter just yet. Give me a few hours to unearth the truth.>>
“Nolan, don’t worry, work on getting better. We have resources as well.”
Uncharacteristic warmth crept into the informant’s voice as he spoke. <<Much as Mr. Olsen and young Jack’s computer abilities are suitably impressive, I ask a personal favor to let me handle this.>>
Lois blinked. This was thoroughly unusual for No Knees Nolan to act this way, but she agreed to his request and after exchanging good-byes hung up.
Not ten minutes passed before she was interrupted again when Henderson called. <<Lane, we need to talk. Got any idea of the hornet’s nest you’ve kicked over with this RoxxTen story? Detective Reed and I have been working on this thing for months with the Feds. Why didn’t you contact me before going to print?>>
Another voice broke in, one with a raspy Kentucky accent. <<Yeah, Intergang and Bill Church’s fingerprints were all over this two-bit insurance company, now the big rats are going into hiding!>>
Rolling her eye in exasperation she said. “Henderson, why didn’t you tell me I was on speakerphone? Look, since when do I ask permission from the MPD to write a story? Speaking of which, I’m a reporter who’s a little busy right now trying to get another story out.”
A very audible sigh was heard on the other end of the line. She could visualize him sitting at a neat desk, taking off silver wire-rimmed glasses and rubbing tired, red-rimmed eyes, weighing carefully what to say next. Christine Reed was no doubt pulling at the tangled red brillo pad she called hair. <<As a reporter you should have waited because we would have had an even bigger story for you.>>
Reed interrupted again. <<What Bill is really trying to say is that Intergang is a dangerous enemy, especially since that guy in the tights is no longer around to offer protection.>>
Lois groaned. If another person mentioned Clark’s absence, she was going to scream. So, with a terse response she said, “Look, the concern is appreciated, but I can take care of myself! Thanks for the warning.” Before they could answer, she slammed the handset back in its cradle.
***
Inspector Henderson growled a few well-chosen words and then barked. “Guess we can’t call that a successful conversation. Lane is as stubborn as they come. I wish that alien had taken her rather than Clark; he was the more reasonable of the two!”
Christine Reed looked down at perfectly manicured red nails and shrugged. “That girl ain’t got a clue of what’s really going down at RoxxTen; money laundering, drug trafficking, stock fraud and maybe murder. If Elden Kraft doesn’t turn up anytime soon, he’s either out of the country or dead. She needs protection, otherwise Intergang is gonna go after her like a hound dog on a hunt. But how do we protect someone who doesn’t want to be protected?”
Henderson sat back for a moment thinking, then a smile, an honest to goodness mischievous, toothy grin spread over Henderson’s weathered face. “Leave that to me.” Detective Reed looked on in shock as her normally dour-faced superior actually chuckled gleefully as he reached for the phone.
***
It was after seven o’clock when Lois opened the door, turned on the lights and walked down the stairs into Clark’s quiet and empty apartment. Her ears were still ringing from the conversation with Henderson and Detective Reed. Of course, she needed to be careful now that Superman was no longer around to protect her! But long before Clark stepped into the bullpen she had faced tougher circumstances. Why did everyone think this situation with RoxxTen was any different? Most importantly, what was all this talk about getting the FBI involved?
She entered the kitchen, set down her briefcase and a brown paper bag, then removed two hot white cardboard containers from the bag, dinner for one, courtesy of the Jade Dragon. The sesame chicken and fried rice were delicious, though not nearly as scrumptious as the meals Clark brought back from Taiwan. After plating the food, she settled onto the couch, eating slowly, and waited for time to go by.
An hour later, she was reading a book about Napoleon and the great love of his life, Josephine. Her mind mused on how similar their situations were. Two days after Napoleon and Josephine had their intimate wedding. Napoleon got his orders to embark on what would become known as the Italian Campaign. Here they were, two people in an intensely passionate romance suddenly pulled apart by war. Napoleon wrote countless letters to Josephine during this period - sometimes three or four a day. As Lois read them, they struck her 20th century mind as a little wordy, but nonetheless wildly sexy and intimate. Say whatever else you want about the French Emperor, but he could write a love letter!
As she read further, it was obvious Josephine didn't take pleasure in writing lengthy missives in response to her husband, and was immensely enjoying court life, so she would take days to write him back and would only write the shortest of letters, not at all infused with the emotion that Napoleon put into his. Lois could see in his letters how Napoleon interpreted that - a sign of waning affection or something far more painful. Wandering attention.
Putting herself into Napoleon's shoes, she could not even hope to get physical letters from Clark, no matter how passionate or wildly romantic.
There was only one way for Clark to communicate, and no way for her to get instant updates from New Krypton. Napoleon and Josephine at least had letters to keep their love alive, and their romance survived throughout the ages because of it - over 200 years later, here was evidence of it. She and Clark only had a tantalizingly brief holographic transmission once a month. It was not enough. Not enough to tie them together, not enough to last for eternity. They had nothing but faith and hope in their love for one another.
The unpleasant thoughts were thankfully interrupted by the now familiar low-pitched whine of an engine and gentle lights that filled the room, then silence. Hurriedly setting the book aside, she ran to the balcony and saw the courier on the ground, metal gleaming from both re-entry heat and nearby streetlights, looking as if it had never departed on its solitary journey through the dark, frigid cosmos.
As she opened the French doors, the device floated through them, and she followed it into the living room. Once the courier settled on the living room floor it began to play back the holographic message that Clark had recorded for her. The apartment faded away and she was once again standing in the Great Hall of the First Lord. Clark’s handsome face smiled at her, but she could tell he was tired, with new worry lines etched deep into his brow. Instead of wearing the familiar black jumpsuit, he was attired in a gray coverall covered in fine red dust. He stopped, began to speak, hesitated, and then stopped again. He took another deep breath and spoke while Lois eagerly took in each word.
Hello Lois. Life on New Krypton has been unpleasant this past moonround. Nor’s forces gained the upper hand for a while in some of the outlying agricultural provinces, but thanks to the bravery of Zara’s squadron and our ground troops, we have beaten him back. Those provinces provide food for many of the cities on this continent. If we had lost them it would have meant severe rationing this coming winter.
On my order we are moving half of the farms to underground facilities where the crops can be grown hydroponically. That attack was a close one and the people cannot afford to experience another one like it. My aunt, Lady Alura, who is the acting Steward of the El family compound, Abondar, is supervising the move.
Zara is an able commander and pilot who grows more skillful each time she takes to the air. Lady Polara, Ching, the Council and I are grateful to have such a valiant warrior on our side. He said this with a small smile.Underground farms? Moonrounds? Lois thought, so many new terms to understand. Since Zara is such a brave pilot, perhaps she is proving to be the leader New Krypton needs and not her fiancé. Maybe, just maybe, his grandmother and that council would come to their senses, realize this fact, and finally send him home. She could not help but hear the note of pride in Clark’s voice while speaking of Zara. Was she jealous of the other woman’s accomplishments? But both thoughts changed as he continued.
There’s no reason to burden you with further details of our struggles. He sighed again and began talking about the house of El and its members; Uncle Zor-El and his family as well as other distant relations. As the monologue continued he seemed to gain strength and dignity. The people of New Krypton were drawing behind First Lord Kal-El, and it was clear that he was strengthened, knowing that he was making a difference.
I wish I could show you all the fabulous things that are being accomplished here despite the war. I’ve just returned from one of the Northern provinces where a popular fruit similar to our grapes and other produce was being harvested. That explains why I’m dressed this way. For a brief afternoon I was a farmer again, walking the land, talking with regular folks, and listening to their concerns. There are good people honey, worth my sacrifices, but I still wish with all my heart you were by my side. Lois drew in a broken breath, and raised her hand attempting to caress his face and whispered, “So do I…”
As if in answer to her plead, he smiled in that old familiar way that made her heart flutter and toes curl with a touch of delight.
It’s good to take a little time away from this conflict and ask about normal life on Terra…I mean Earth. I hope everything is going well back home. How are Mom and Dad? Nice to hear they’ve been so deeply involved in the new Smallville Library. They need to keep active. Knowing Mom, they already have a new medical insurance company and excellent doctors, especially for Dad. He continued talking for a few minutes more when she heard an unfamiliar voice call to him, probably an aide. This holographic communique had only lasted fifteen minutes. It was evident by his expression, Clark was irritated with the interruption, yet somehow managed to keep it out of his voice. He smiled again and shrugged helplessly.
My presence is urgently needed at a meeting. Lois, I’m sorry. But before I go, please, be careful with this RoxxTen case. If anything happened to you, I couldn’t bear it. I love you!When the Great Hall and Clark’s image faded into nothingness, she sat back and thought deeply. Her fiancé was determined not to let her worry about his current situation. He was in a war and wanted to keep the worst evidence of that war as far from her as possible, so he talked about grapes rather than a certain female pilot from a noble Kryptonian family.
His selflessness made her cherish their relationship even more. She decided to tell him most of what was going on in her life and the bullpen and to update him on the RoxxTen investigation, especially Nolan’s contribution. That would make him laugh. She needed to tell him about the new intern, Sara Silverman, who was quickly becoming Jimmy’s latest crush. Perhaps Eduardo’s trip to Spain. Perry thought that since he had more than a passing knowledge of art, he was covering the Madrid Art museum which was set to unveil five centuries of Spain's royal collections.
If Clark were here, these were simple bits of daily life in the newsroom he would listen to while making a cup of coffee. Still, he did not need to know everything. Especially the fact that she was writing about a loose cannon like Simcoe. The last thing he needed was to worry about her jumping in without checking the water level.
Turning on the device she began talking…
***
It was early Friday afternoon and Lois couldn’t have been happier. The RoxxTen story was still making waves and she was content to have a hand once again in cleaning up her corner of the universe. Of course, ‘receiving a letter’ from Clark had a great deal to do with the lightness of her mood.
“Lois! Call on line 3!” Stacy shouted from her cubicle.
Picking up the handset she said, “Lois Lane. City Desk.”
A familiar voice came over the line and she couldn’t decide whether to be happy or annoyed. <<Hey Lois, it’s me, Bobby Bigmouth.>>
“Bobby, what have you got for me and how much is it going to cost at Café Americana?”
<<Zilch! I’m just passin’ along a message from No-Knees Nolan. That RoxxTen company rep that kinda, sorta threatened Dr. Siebert? Well, he’s got a rap sheet longer than my arm and leg. Your boy Simcoe is connected to Intergang, he only worked for that insurance company as a cover. He’s an enforcer.>>
Lois thought about this for a moment. An Intergang enforcer working for an insurance company? It reminded her of Diana Stride, who was a television news reporter for Top Copy but also an assassin for Intergang that had wanted to expose Clark’s secret identity on national television. These two incidents indicated that this was Intergang’s way of conducting business, placing someone on the inside, so they would know their victim’s every move.
It was devious, sneaky, and brilliant. Maybe exploiting this tactic it would provide the next step she needed to forge a link between RoxxTen and the crime syndicate.
“That’s great news Bobby!” She paused, then said. “But why didn’t Nolan tell me himself?”
<<On accounta he’s outta town now. Icepick is back, and Nolan ain’t ina hurry ta tangle with that dude again. Should be back when this whole feud between them blows over.>>
“Okay,” Lois said, a little surprised that Icepick had returned.
<<Listen, Lois. This guy Simcoe? He’s big-time trouble. You’re great with that fancy, dancy fightin’ and all, but he don’t play fair. Besides, with Kent outta the picture, who’s gonna watch your back? Know what I mean?>>
Once upon a time, Lois had broken stories without the assistance of Clark Kent or his alter ego, Superman. How was she supposed to live and work without everyone constantly reminding her of his absence? Still, Bobby, in his own half-baked way was being protective.
But Lois was tired of hearing this same line from everyone. With a terse, ‘thank you’ she hung up. Before she could turn back to her monitor, Perry called out from his office.
“Uh, Lois, can you come in here please?”
Please? Oh brother, the last time Perry used that word she had gone undercover in a coal processing plant in the hills of West Virginia. The assignment had been fairly dangerous, but she had gotten all the evidence for the story. She ultimately busted a few unscrupulous people who were pocketing hush money for neglecting to follow mining safety regulations.
Perry almost hadn’t recognized her when she arrived in the newsroom to type up the article. There was actually a faint trail of coal dust leading to her desk. Once the story was completed he pleaded in that same tone for her to go home, rest and visit a beauty spa to clean up.
It turned out he was right. It had taken two trips to the spa to remove all the deeply embedded coal dust from her skin, hair, and fingernails.
As she entered Perry’s office now, she found Franklin Stern was sitting on the couch, while another man sat in the dark leather visitor’s chair, his back was to her. There was something about the man’s posture that struck her as familiar.
Putting that thought aside she said, “Chief, what’s so important …?”
The visitor stood up slowly, as if he were decidedly worried about being introduced to her. He turned and faced her; he was a little taller than Clark with light brown hair, calm blue eyes and a slight five o’clock shadow. At least he wasn’t wearing a full beard anymore, which in her mind was the only thing to mar those handsome features. Speechless, Lois looked at the man before her. The last time she had seen him was from a distance at their college graduation, walking away from the crowds, with his family, holding Linda King’s hand.
Icy fingers of dread crept up her spine and a sharp pain as delicate as a feathered quill and as cold as steel lanced a twisted stomach. “
Paul Talmadge? What are you doing here?”
