Previously:
He would give anything right now to know where she was; to know that she was safe. Somewhere in this city there had to be someone who knew what had happened to her. An appeal on the news had netted nothing - not that he really thought it would help. The kind of people who would know what had happened to Lois weren't going to call the police tip line out of the kindness of their hearts. They were motivated by baser means - revenge, money or power.
In an instant, Clark knew how he could find her. He lifted into the air and flew swiftly in the direction of Suicide Slum. Bobby Bigmouth knew lots of shady people. It was entirely possible that one of them knew what had happened to Lois. It was also possible that they would be willing to make a trade.
A million dollar secret was a small price to bring Lois home again.<><><>
The Other Shoe 6/10
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Sunday morning
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Bobby had not been in any of his usual haunts. Clark had widened his search, watching for both Bobby and Lois as he scoured every inch of Metropolis for a second night. As he looked, Clark weighed what kind of information he would reveal. The name 'Kal-El' seemed safe enough. He also doubted that one small truth would be worth a million dollars. He would have to play it by ear, assuming he could find someone who actually knew where Lois was. The sun had been up for a couple of hours when he finally located Bobby, asleep on a couch in a suburb west of the city. He debated how best to approach him before settling on doing it without a cape.
Clark knocked on the door. The woman who answered looked so much like Bobby that Clark decided she must be his sister or a cousin. She gave him a wary once-over when he asked for Bobby. He must have looked harmless enough because she told him to wait and shut the door.
"Clark," Bobby said in obvious surprise after he opened the door. "How did you find me here?"
Clark ignored the question. "I'm sorry to bother you this early on a Sunday morning, but it's important."
Bobby yawned and scrubbed at his eyes. "Did you even sleep last night? You look terrible."
Clark shook his head. "I've been looking for Lois."
Bobby's expression softened. "I've put out feelers to everyone I know. She's irritated a lot of people, but no one is 'fessing up."
"What if you offered them something in return?"
"Like what? A reward?"
"A million dollars," Clark said, trying desperately to keep his voice even.
Bobby's eyebrows shot up. "You don't have that kind of money."
Clark had to swallow to work his voice free before offering up the unthinkable. "I know things about Superman that I'd be willing to trade if Lois is returned safe and sound."
Bobby stared at him in obvious disbelief. "You'd betray Superman to find her?"
"It's not a betrayal. Superman said that if that was what it took…"
"Don't," Bobby cut him off and stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. He took Clark's arm and led him away from the house as he continued, "Don't do it. Go home. Get a couple hours of sleep and think about the consequences."
"I have thought about the consequences," Clark insisted. Bobby had no idea that his entire night had been spent weighing the cost of revelation. "Please. Superman has searched everywhere and she's not in Metropolis. She could be anywhere now and I could be wasting valuable time looking in the wrong direction. Make the offer, please."
Bobby stopped propelling him away from the house and held up his hands in an appeasing gesture. "The thing is, if the wrong sort of people hear that you have that kind of information, you might disappear just like Lois has. In fact, it's entirely possible that someone took her for that very reason."
Clark looked away, hating that Bobby was right. It was one of his worst nightmares come to life - Lois in danger because of her proximity to Superman.
"You know what else?" Bobby continued. "The whole thing could be a setup. Who's to say that they're really going to give away that million? What if you trade something for nothing? Then both Lois and Superman are screwed."
The thought had occurred to Clark, but he had discounted it because he needed a solution to cling to.
"I'm still waiting to hear back from a few people," Bobby said. "I swear I'll call you the second I hear anything. Okay? You should go home and get some sleep or you're going to be more of a liability than a help."
Clark did go home, but only long enough to shave and put on a fresh Superman suit. Then he flew straight to the police station.
"Hey, Superman," the desk sergeant waved to clear him through the security gate. "Did you find her?"
Clark shook his head. "Not yet."
"They're in Conference Room B. Go on in."
Inside the conference room there was a white board with Lois' picture and a timeline. Seeing her picture drove home for Clark once again that this wasn't a nightmare, it was real. Lieutenant Hess was laying out for the five officers in attendance out what they had - or didn't have - so far. No demand for ransom had been made. One of his detectives had tracked down the video surveillance from the ATM across the street from the bar and he was on his way in with it. As Hess spoke, a burly man in casual clothes came into the room.
"This is Sgt. Hadley from the Ninth," Hess gestured at the newcomer. "He says he was in the bar the night Ms. Lane was taken."
Hadley moved to the front of the room to address them. "I was sitting on the other side of your guy. He had on a Boston Red Sox cap. Tall and lean, but not what you'd call skinny. Very short hair, maybe a crew cut, you couldn't see much of it for the hat. I had the impression he'd been in the military and it wasn't just the haircut. He sat up straight, not slumped, you know? Good posture. Disciplined."
"Is there anything else you remember about him?" Hess asked.
Hadley stared into the Styrofoam cup of coffee he was holding as he tried to recall. "Yeah, he had a tattoo on his left upper arm. I couldn't really see it with his sleeve there, but it looked like the bottom of a V or something. Something with a point. Anyway, it all happened pretty fast. She knocked her drink over. It spilled everywhere. She kinda started to fall off the stool and he was quick to help her. He said he'd take her home. She didn't fight him so I thought they knew each other."
"No one was with him?" Clark asked. "Did anyone hold the door open for him as he left?"
"I wasn't watching, Superman. Sorry."
A plainclothes detective came in with a videotape and loaded it into the VCR. Lt. Hess picked up the remote and pressed play. The timestamp in the top right corner read 6:44 p.m. As soon as the tape started, Clark's heart sank. The footage was too grainy and the camera had been too far away for even his super vision to pick out many details.
"Clark Kent said he left the bar to return a phone call around 8:00," Hess said and pressed fast-forward. The tape sped up.
"There," Clark said as he recognized himself and Lois going into the bar just after 7:30. "Let it play from here."
Hess stopped the tape and backed it up so that everyone could watch the distant, blurry image of them entering the bar.
"Back it up again, please," Clark asked and Hess complied. Again, he and Lois entered the bar, but this time Clark was watching the man wearing a ballcap who had just come into frame. "That man," Clark said to Hadley. "Does he look like the man who took her?" On tape, the man walked up the street and followed them into the bar.
"Run it again," Hadley asked. He squinted at the screen as the man once again followed them. "The build is right and he's wearing a hat, but this is lousy footage."
The tape continued to play. People entered and exited the bar, but there was no sign of Lois. And then, just after 8:21 p.m., the man with the hat came out of the bar half-dragging, half-carrying someone. Only a few seconds ticked by before a dark sedan pulled up. The man opened the back door and ducked, apparently placing Lois inside. Then he straightened up and got into the front passenger seat. The sedan pulled away.
Clark closed his eyes. At that exact moment he was only seventy feet away behind the building, completely oblivious to what was happening out front. He had spent nearly an hour yesterday standing in front of the bar, searching for a clue only to find none. Hundreds of cars drove down that street each day and there were no tire tracks he could follow. The only trace that Lois had been taken was her shoe, now in evidence here at the station…
"What about the shoe Lois was wearing?" Clark asked as an idea came to him. "Has that been tested? Maybe whatever he used to drug her splashed onto it when she spilled her drink?"
Hess gave him a weary nod. "It's in the courier box for the state lab, Superman. But it could be days, or even weeks, before anything comes back."
"We don't have that kind of time. I know a couple of people at STAR Labs," Clark said. "Would you let me take it there for testing? They might be willing to give it top priority."
Hess frowned, clearly hesitant.
"I'll sign the chain of custody," Clark volunteered. "I promise they'll follow all the necessary protocols."
After another short deliberation, Hess agreed. Clark signed the paperwork and took the shoe, enclosed in an evidence bag, with him to STAR Labs.
At STAR Labs the news wasn't promising. A swab of her shoe was taken and the lab tech informed him that it could take hours to complete the testing. Clark told them to get started. He assured the tech he would stay close and check back often. He flew into the air to begin another grid search of Metropolis. First, though, unable to stop himself, he flew past Lois' apartment. Just in case…
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Thursday night<><><>
Lois had long since gone to bed, but Clark couldn't help flying past her apartment to check on her. He still wasn't sure if it was regret or relief that he was feeling over his close call a few hours earlier on her couch. For the first time ever he had actually tried to ignore someone's cries for help. The guilt he felt about that had compounded when he arrived on-scene at the subway accident and saw the carnage. Rescues like tonight's reinforced for him the fact that he couldn't give up being Superman, no matter what kind of pressure or spotlight it brought him.
Not for the first time, Clark desperately wished he could ask Lois what he should do. His parents were wonderful and supportive, but he didn't want to have to give them the entire back story every time he needed counsel. Lois knew his job, his friends and the intricacies of life in the big city in a way his parents never would. Tonight was a prime example of why he so desperately needed someone besides his parents to go to for advice. Yes, they knew he wasn't a child, but it would be extremely awkward to ask them how far he could take a physical relationship before he had to tell his partner the truth.
It was Lois he needed to talk to. She was his best friend. She was the first person he wanted to talk to whenever anything, big or little, happened. He needed her judgments, her opinions, and her advice. But should he burden Lois with a secret that would forever change their relationship? What if he told her everything and she couldn't forgive his deception?
Lois rolled over in her sleep, beginning her trek to the left side of the bed. That was his side of the bed, though he doubted she knew that. So many nights he had glimpsed her reaching out in her sleep and wished that he could be the one she was reaching for. His conscience told him he shouldn't be spying on her like this. But Lois knew full well there was a man flying around Metropolis and she still left her curtains open. If that wasn't an invitation, then what was?
What should he do? Tell her and risk losing her forever? Back off and break both their hearts? Stay or go?
Trust her, his heart whispered. Trust her with everything. She trusted you first.
His throat tightened with emotion as he acknowledged that Lois was willing to trust him far more than he deserved. Even after her panic attack in the car yesterday morning she had agreed to go out to dinner with him tonight. She had kissed him and brought him back to her apartment with the certain understanding that their relationship was no longer 'just friends'. Clark knew that, for Lois, opening herself up to a serious relationship was a very big and scary decision. What she didn't realize was that having a relationship with him wasn't the scary part; it was the strings that came with his love.
She had to know. She deserved to know. Whether she continued as his friend or as more than that afterwards was her choice. Just like yesterday morning in her car, Clark began to shake at the thought of actually telling someone his secret. Covering up and holding back were the habits of a lifetime for him. It had seemed so much easier to tell her a few hours ago. It had seemed natural, the right time to tell her. Now, in the cool night air with no welcoming arms around him, Clark could scarcely comprehend giving someone else that much power over him. Especially when he wasn't sure what her reaction would be. Lois might hate him. It was certain that she'd never again look at Superman with undisguised awe.
He simply couldn't lie to her anymore. He couldn't leave her with flimsy excuses that not only made her question his feelings but also deepened her own insecurities. He had to take that chance and trust her with everything. Once she understood what a leap of faith this was for him, maybe she'd know that telling her he was Superman was the deepest declaration of love he could ever make.
Tomorrow, he promised her silently. No matter what, he would tell her the truth tomorrow.
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Sunday night
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It was almost midnight when a lab tech came through the door and waved at him. "Superman? We found traces of a drug on the shoe."
"What kind of drug?"
"Flutoprazepam, it's also called KB-509. It was invented in Japan in the early 70's and used primarily as a muscle relaxant or for short-term insomnia."
"So it could knock someone out?"
"Absolutely. It's in the same pharamcological family at flunitrazepam, you know, roofies? But this is some high grade stuff. I made a few calls and there's one lab in Metropolis that's currently working with KB-509 as an anticonvulsant. It's still in clinical trials, but that's at 0.5% strength. The dose in her drink was around 2%."
"It wouldn't have killed her, would it?"
"No. It would have knocked her out for quite some time, but it doesn't look like this was a lethal dose."
"So whoever did this has access to the drug at a higher potency than anyone enrolled in the clinical trial?" Clark asked. "It has to be someone at the lab? Or could a test subject save up enough to get that dosage?"
"The most likely source would be someone with access to the undiluted supply. A test subject couldn't get that strength no matter how many samples they combined."
"You said there was a local lab working with KB-509? Which lab is it?"
"Alliance Technologies."
Clark's entire body went cold at the name of Herman Twitchell's employer. It was impossible that was merely a coincidence.
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End 6/10
