Well, I had promised to post this today before the boards went down, so here it is! Thanks again to Nancy, and a reminder to people that flashbacks have *** around them.
PART ELEVEN
***
As Jon flew towards the cry for help, he resolved to make his rescue as quick as possible. Kaylie was waiting for him back at her apartment and he was anxious to return to the warm spot beside her in bed. He landed in an alleyway just outside of LuthorCorp and saw the woman hidden in the shadows. Thinking that she might have been subjected to some kind of attack and was hiding for modesty’s sake, Jon refrained from using his excellent night vision to get a clear glimpse of her.
“Are you all right?” he asked instead gently.
“I’m just fine now that you’re here,” she replied smoothly. He recognized that voice. She stepped out of the shadows and his suspicions were confirmed.
“What do you want?” he demanded. “Why did you call me here?”
“Relax, Supernova,” she whispered. “I just wanted to talk. We’ve had our differences in the past, but I really think-”
“You thought wrong,” Jon declared authoritatively. “Things are not going to change just because you…” He faltered when he felt that all too familiar wave of dizziness. “You committed a crime, and you’re going to have to pay…” The feeling had grown stronger and he was having a hard time concentrating. Belatedly, he realized that he should’ve flown away when he first felt the Kryptonite. Now, he wasn’t so sure he had the strength to. The pain intensified when the woman produced a glowing green crystal from the chain she had tucked into her top.
“This has been put to good use in the past,” she informed him smugly. “And I have to say it works just as good today as it did then. Let’s see just how good it can be, shall we?” As she came closer, Jon was powerless to stop her. She hung the chain around his neck, and it was all he could do to stay conscious. He was dimly aware of being lifted and carried somewhere by at least two different people, with every little jerk sending fresh darts of agony through him. He traveled inside and downwards in a long smooth motion, and then found himself being settled in a chair. The last thing he saw was the face of that woman towering over him, smugly bringing a terrifying machine closer and closer to him.
***
* * *
We entered the Daily Planet from the elevator rather than through the window in Jon’s office to avoid suspicion. Although the night staff was not likely to come to Jon’s office for anything, I agreed with Jon that it was best to play it safe. I let him go on ahead of me as I dashed off to Lois’ desk to pick up the research I had left there the other day. I was glad that I had decided to print off the information instead of keeping it on the computer. It would probably bring up unwanted suspicion if people saw me logging into Lois’ computer.
“Found anything interesting yet?” I asked Jon when I entered his office.
“Huh?” His head snapped up from his intense concentration. “Oh. No. Nothing yet. I’m having… difficulties.”
“Doing what?”
“I can’t remember my password,” he confessed with frustration. “I usually change it about every three months, so…”
“Oh. Well, I have an account set up here. You can use that.”
“That’s not going to give me the authorization I need,” he replied, returning his concentration to his computer screen. “I’ve been trying to find a way to hack into the system, but that’s turning out to be practically impossible.”
“Trying to hack into a system that you designed yourself. There’s something very poetic about that. You know, Jon, you can only become a true master at your craft once you have learned to defeat yourself,” I teased.
“Gee, thanks, *babe*. You really know how to sympathize with a guy.”
“You’ve already gotten tons of sympathy. It’s time someone– wait, ‘babe’?”
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Yeah, it’s a term of endearment. But in your case, I was using it sarcastically.”
Sarcastically or not, it was the first time he had ever called me something other than my name. Not that I was all that crazy about being named after a talking pig, but the point was that he had felt comfortable doing it even though his memories were still gone. His absorption in his work probably explained it, I decided. He had only given our conversation half of his attention, which meant he was acting more on instinct than on thought. I decided not to push the issue as it would only make him uncomfortable.
“You know, if I changed my password every three months, I wouldn’t need a fancy procedure to forget it,” I told him. “I usually just stick with one and use it over and over.”
“I usually pick something that has some kind of significance for me at the time. And having an eidetic memory helps,” he replied. He stopped typing. “Well, normally it’s eidetic. Not now, obviously.” Then he gave his head a small shake and continued on the computer. “So what was it you needed to get from my mom’s desk?”
“Research on Gertrude Brenner,” I told him as I cleared off a chair to sit on. “She was arrested a couple days ago for blowing up the house of the doctor we suspect has done a lot of the research towards the device that took away your and Jay’s memories.”
“Anything interesting come up?”
“Well, I don’t want to distract you…”
“You won’t. You’ll keep me company.”
“Okay. Well, she went into foster care at the age of ten. Typical story, bounced around from place to place. There were a couple of behavior complaints from the homes, so that would’ve made placing her even harder. Oh, crap.”
“What?”
“One of the homes she was at was shut down after one of the older kids there filed a complaint of sexual abuse.”
Jon’s eyes snapped up from the screen. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah,” I replied. I had seen too many situations like this through Riverview to not have an idea of the long term affects that would’ve had on her. “She’s had some bad luck. Not all bad foster homes get reported, so who knows what else she had to go through? And if she had bad experiences in the past, she would have a hard time in other homes.” I flipped over to the next page. “About a year in the system, she got caught for shoplifting, among some other petty crimes. They tried putting her into some community programs, probably to straighten her out.”
“It couldn’t have done much good if she was constantly moving around,” Jon said. “She would’ve had to drop out of wherever they put her when she moved. What day were you born on?”
“September 12th, 1999,” I replied automatically. “Why do you-”
“What kind of programs was she in?” Jon asked, cutting me off. I’ve noticed that he tends to get into a strange zone when he’s working on computers, so I didn’t bother to question him.
“Umm… Big Brothers and Sisters, Girl Guides, the usual. Oh, now here’s an interesting one. It’s called Sinners to Saints. They match up ‘reformed’ criminals with kids who show signs of getting into trouble with the law.”
“Some kind of career mentorship or something?” Jon joked darkly.
“Well, I guess the idea would be that kids learn that crime doesn’t pay,” I said, skeptical myself about the success of such a program.
“Or, kids could get some insider tips on how to start a life of crime,” Jon spoke, echoing my own doubts. “Had we picked a date yet for the wedding?”
“No, we were just recently engaged. What-”
“So who was Gertrude matched up with?”
I skimmed through the sheet, looking for the relevant information. “‘J. Cox’,” I read off the sheet.
“Mrs. Cox?” Jon finally tore his eyes away from the computer screen in surprise.
“I guess. Do you know her?”
“My parents told me about her. She was Lex Luthor’s personal assistant.”
“What exactly does a personal assistant do?” I asked. It sounded suspiciously like a euphemism for something else.
“A little bit of everything, I guess,” Jon replied. “When the whole Luthor thing came out, Cox made a deal with the DA and sold a ton of information in exchange for a lighter sentence.”
“Well, with her as a mentor, it’s no surprise Gertrude turned to a life of crime. What were they thinking pairing a well known criminal up with a kid like that?”
Jon shrugged. “She could’ve put in a good performance of remorse. If she worked for Luthor, she probably has a lot of talents.”
“I guess,” I agreed, still upset that this had happened. With my experience at Riverview, this knowledge came particularly hard for me. “Anyway, I don’t think Cox is important in the grand scheme of things. We’re looking for someone with a lot of power and a lot of money. Kind of hard to get either of those when you’re a notorious criminal.”
“True,” Jon conceded, and then returned to his computer.
“Anyway, I don’t know if I’m going to get anything useful out of all of this,” I told him. “What kind of contact would a kid in foster care have with anyone like the person we’re looking for?”
“So it was someone who she met after she turned eighteen and became a legal adult. And you don’t have any record of her after that?”
“None,” I told him. “It’s like she dropped off the map.”
“Hmm. That’s weird. When did I propose to you?”
“August 15th, almost a week ago. Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“I-” He was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I checked the caller ID, and was surprised to see who it was.
“I should get this,” I told him apologetically. I flipped the phone open and pressed it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Kaylie.”
“Hi, Dad. What do you want?”
“The Metropolis NIA office received a message today from someone claiming to have knowledge about your case. He wants you to meet him tomorrow in Centennial Park.”
“Did ‘he’ leave a name?”
“Charles Winslow.”
“He’s dead,” I said, gripping the phone tighter at the news. “He was killed two days ago.”
“Apparently not,” my dad countered. “He sent us a note this morning.”
“Then it’s an imposter.”
“Either it’s him, or someone who’s gone through a great deal of trouble to fool us. We matched the fingerprints on the letter to those the university had on file for him. You must’ve missed something when you thought he was dead”
“I didn’t miss-” No, I stopped myself. Obviously I had missed something. “Okay, I’ll meet with him tomorrow. Did he leave a time?”
“In his note, he said he would be waiting at the fountain at 0900 hours.”
I rolled my eyes. “Nine AM. Got it.” I hung up the phone, but frowned at it after, still trying to process the events. How could’ve Winslow survived that explosion?
“Kaylie?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry, Jon. I was just thinking.”
“What did your dad say?”
“Winslow, the guy who we thought Gertrude killed? He’s still alive.”
“Really? How did he manage that?”
“No idea. I guess I’ll have to ask him when I meet up with him tomorrow.”
Jon nodded. “So you were saying earlier that you don’t have any good information on Gertrude?”
“Yeah,” I said, glad to change topics for the time being.
“So why haven’t you gone to talk to her at the police station?”
“A few reasons,” I replied. “Mostly because I don’t want to force my hand and show NIA involvement. No matter how careful I was, if I went to the police as an NIA agent, word would get around.”
“I figured it would be something like that,” Jon replied. “But it seems to me as if word already has gotten around. Winslow knew to contact the NIA on this. If he’s been working to develop this thing then it’s a fair bet that his boss knows too.”
“You’re right,” I realized. “By this stage, the benefits have outweighed the risks. I’ll find out where she’s being kept tomorrow and try to get in to see her.”
“I can find out for you right now,” Jon offered.
“You cracked into the system?”
“Not exactly,” he said as he began to access the Metropolis PD network. “I just figured out my password. 15aug2024.” He flashed me a smile. “Okay, here we go. Gertrude Brenner.”
“That was fast,” I commented as I came around behind the desk to see the screen. “Looks like the MPD could use some of the Planet’s security.”
“The guy who designed their system is a friend of mine,” Jon confessed. “He showed me a loophole so I could get this kind of information when I needed it. He got tired of my mom calling him all the time.”
“So, this is Gertrude’s file?”
“Yeah. See, she was brought in a couple days ago. Standard procedure was followed… Saw a judge for a preliminary hearing… Then she was bailed out this afternoon.”
“What?!”
“Whoever did it sent a lawyer to take care of the proceedings. No way of knowing who sent the guy, though.”
And no way of knowing where Gertrude had gone after she had gotten out.
* * *
Normally, I’ll do anything to avoid the government agent cliché type image that pervades the media today. But there are times when such an image is useful. And any good agent would be willing to use people’s preconceived notions to her advantage. So when I went to meet Winslow that morning by the fountain, I dressed for the part. My dark navy, conservatively cut suit was matched with a white blouse done up to the collar. I wore sensible black loafers and my hair was coiled into a tight bun at the nape of my neck. I was not carrying a ‘piece’, however I couldn’t resist the dark sunglasses that gave me a sufficiently mysterious image. Winslow was waiting obediently by the fountain. I recognized the bushy hair, the large glasses, and the little nervous twitches he was prone to. This was definitely the same man. He was clutching a duffle bag nervously in his hands and I could see that his tight shoulders were bearing the brunt of his built up tension. I came up to him and sat nonchalantly beside him.
“I hear you wanted to meet with me?”
Winslow jumped visibly in his seat, and turned around to face me. “Oh, are you…?” I nodded. “I didn’t think you’d be so…”
“Young?” I guessed. “Female?” He dropped his gaze at my reprimand, so I decided to let him off the hook. “I’m Agent Watson,” I introduced myself, and surreptitiously flashed him my badge. “You said you had information.”
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” he suggested, his eyes darting around trying to take everyone in. He was really scared, and out of his element. In a lab, he could be a patronizing jerk, but here he was a very frightened and timid man. What had happened to him since I had last seen him?
“This is as good a place as any,” I informed him. “It’s loud and noisy and less chance of anyone overhearing us.” He bobbed his head in agreement, although he still looked worried. Looking at his behavior, my curiosity finally got the better of me. “Dr. Winslow, three days ago, your house was blown up and as far as I was aware, you were in it at the time. Could you explain to me how on earth you managed to survive?”
“I-I wasn’t there,” he replied quickly.
“But… of course you were there,” I sputtered. “You were watching TV. I *saw* you.”
“That was my brother.” He replied painfully. “I was upstairs in my study, and then ran out to the corner store, if you can believe it. Eddie wanted guacamole dip.” His mouth twitched at the memory, but then it straightened out quickly. “And when I came back and saw… Well, I knew that things must’ve finally come back to me.” When I thought back to that night, I realized that it could’ve worked. I couldn’t really get a clear view of the man watching TV, and someone with a similar build and hair color could’ve passed for the doctor. But what did that say for the quality of my surveillance? I took solace in the fact that Gertrude had been fooled as well as me. Winslow reached up and mopped his forehead nervously. “I think I’m in over my head here. I never intended things to go this far. You have to believe me Miss Watson, I had no idea things would get this bad!”
“Whoa, it’s okay! Calm down!” He had worked himself up into quite a state, and I was worried we would start drawing attention to ourselves. “Dr. Winslow, I’m not here to arrest you. Your responsibility in this manner is something we’ll figure out later. For now, I’m here to get the information you claim to have. And I’m prepared to make it easy for you.” I pushed my sunglasses further up my nose. “I know you’ve been involved in the creation of a device that can target and remove memories. Can you tell me how you got involved in that?”
He nodded his head agreeably. “About a year ago, I was trying to drum up donors to fund my research on memory and brain function when I was contacted anonymously by an interested party. They offered to pay me a significant amount of money to further my research and I accepted.”
“Who contacted you?” I demanded.
“I don’t know,” he confessed. “This young girl, I don’t think she could’ve been over twenty-five at the oldest. Attractive too,” he added irrelevantly. Probably Gertrude, I thought to myself. “She told me that her employer was interested in my research and she offered me enough money to take it in a specific direction. Namely, that of actually being able to remove certain memories.”
“But who was her employer?” I asked, getting closer to the solution. Was it possible that we could wrap this whole thing up with his testimony?
“I don’t know,” he confessed.
“You don’t know?!” I exploded. “How could you’ve worked for someone for a year and not know who they are? Do you have any idea what you’ve caused because of-” A look at his expression forced me to calm down. Yes, it was frustrating that he didn’t know, but yelling at him wouldn’t really help and might keep him from telling me more information. “I’m sorry,” I apologized with renewed calmness. “I’m just surprised that whoever it was who hired you managed to keep their identity a secret for so long. They didn’t give anything away?”
“I only dealt with that one girl, and she refused to tell me her name or how to contact her. They left me cash at the front desk of the LuthorCorp building on a biweekly basis.”
“And you didn’t think to question the legalities of that?!”
“I was desperate for funds,” he admitted. “They offered me everything I needed, and I was willing to look the other way in return.”
“Everything you needed?” I questioned sharply.
“Oh, yes Miss Watson. They even gave me a separate lab space to work in.”
“Where was the lab space?” I asked. It was possible that it could give me a clue.
Winslow gave me a county address that I guessed to be about ten minutes outside of Metropolis. “But I could be careful about going there, Miss Watson,” he cautioned me, surprising me with his perceptiveness. “You see, I went back there a couple days ago and while I was there these three men came in.” He gulped in fear, remembering the incident. “I heard them talking amongst themselves… I don’t remember much of what they were saying, but the gist of it was that they had caught that reporter um… Lois Lane, and another one trespassing. And they were going to… ‘Take care of them’ one of them said.”
I was shocked. Lois and I had pegged our miraculously easy escape down to dumb luck but it seemed as if there was more to the story. “What did you do?” I asked, nearly on the edge of my seat in anticipation but trying not to show it.
“I kept nitrous oxide in the lab for when I did subject testing,” he told me. Laughing gas, I thought to myself. “I slipped on a mask and opened the canister, then snuck out.” His handkerchief reappeared and wiped across his forehead. “I watched the news reports and there wasn’t anything but I’m still not sure if Ms. Lane and her partner survived.”
“They did,” I told him. “They had no problems getting away.” Thanks to him. “But why on earth did you go back to that lab?”
“To get my research,” he replied, handing to duffle bag to me. “This isn’t all of it, but I couldn’t risk collecting more. I didn’t know when those men would wake up again. I was hoping that if I got you this… that you’d be able to put in a good word for me. When everything goes to the courts.” He looked anxiously at me.
I mentally catalogued his various criminal acts. Yet at the same time, he had probably saved my life, along with Lois’. And he had more than paid the price for whatever he had done with the loss of his brother. “Dr. Winslow, I have to ask you,” I finally decided. “Several days ago, one of our agents was subjected to what was probably your machine. What did you have to do with that?”
“Besides designing the infernal thing, nothing,” he swore. “I thought the machine was to be used for therapeutic means. It wasn’t until I realized that the prototype had been used by someone other than me that I confronted that woman. She told me about the NIA investigating her employer and said that they had used it to protect my reputation.” He shuddered. “I think it was then that I started to realize I was in over my head. But of course by then it was too late.” He gave another nervous scan of the park.
“Come with me,” I decided. “We’ll put you in protective custody until this is all sorted out.
He laughed hollowly. “Miss Watson, I hate to be rude, but I doubt that I’ll be safe even in protective custody. I’ve been safe for the last few days on my own and I’ll continue to do so until I hear that this whole business has been cleared up.”
“No, Winslow, wait!” I objected. “You can’t just-”
“I’m sorry,” he shook his head as he stood up. “Please don’t try to follow me.” He stumbled on the ground as he ran away from me. I let him go. The fountain had been a good choice on his part because the public location lessened the chances of someone attacking him. But it also gave me a disadvantage because I couldn’t exactly tackle him and force him to come with me without making a scene, which would ultimately put him in more danger.
I picked up his duffle bag and headed back towards my car, thinking over the interview. Did he have any idea the trouble he had caused by his desperation for research money? In his defense, he did seem like a pretty innocent pawn, even if some of his innocence was actually deliberate ignorance. Still, I wondered what he could have possibly been thinking when they told him they wanted the device built for therapeutic reasons. The idea of sitting in a chair and watching some mysterious device come close to you, knowing that it would completely change your world by the time you woke up haunted me. Especially every time that I remembered that that’s exactly what Jay and Jon had gone through.
