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And the Truth Will Set You…
Part 8

Bill Henderson hated it when the coroner’s van pulled away. Every time he watched this particular vehicle depart a crime scene, he felt a surge of negative emotion. Often it was a sense of loss because of a seemingly unfair or particularly untimely death. Other times it was with a feeling of cold justice when some evildoer got the end that they deserved. Today he barely felt anything at all. This day his thoughts were filled with concern for the passengers in the ambulance that had departed earlier.

Lois Lane had a superficial scalp wound and a bullet embedded in her shoulder. Shock and blood loss had made her condition serious. She was unconscious, and the paramedics wanted to get her to the hospital as quickly as possible. The lead paramedic had asked Bill who Lois’s nearest relative was. The hospital would notify them of her condition. Bill knew that Lois wasn’t very close to her parents and felt that she would probably rather have one of her friends present when she woke up. However, he knew that procedures would dictate that the hospital look for the nearest relative for information and guidance.

Bill had been more than a little frustrated as he struggled for which of Lois’s friends to notify. He’d tried to call Kent, but Lois’s reporting partner didn’t appear to be at home. Bill knew that all the other people she’d been closest to had scattered when The Daily Planet closed. The best he’d been able to do was leave a message for Lex Luthor. He’d seen the social pages of the newspaper and knew that Lois was dating the billionaire. Bill was sure that Lois would want someone she cared about to know how she was.

Superman was in far worse condition. The initial impact to his hand had been shocking to watch, but the actual damage was surprisingly minor. The bullet, made of some sort of green crystal, had barely penetrated into his hand. It had gone through his skin but stopped after less than a quarter inch. The surprise had come when the paramedics peeled off his suit. Despite the fact that everyone in the crowd had seen only three shots from the gunman, Superman had four chest wounds to go with the one in his hand. He’d been shot five times. There was a second shooter.

Two wounds were in his left shoulder. The first had behaved very similarly to the palm wound and had barely penetrated the hero’s skin. The second had gone in deeply and the crystal had shattered. The other two wounds were right in the center of his chest. One of them had barely penetrated the skin, just like the bullet that hit his palm. The other looked like it would have been fatal if it hadn’t hit one of Superman’s ribs. Whatever allowed the green material to penetrate Superman’s skin seemed to be less effective against the hero’s bones. The green bullet had cracked his rib but the bullet had shattered. It made a messy hole but it didn’t penetrate very deeply into his chest.

Still, Superman was barely alive. His breathing was erratic and he was showing signs of poisoning. The paramedics were uncertain of how to treat the hero and had looked to Bill for guidance. For his part, Bill wished Lois were available. If anyone would have an idea, it would be her. The way the crystal glowed was very disturbing. It seemed obvious that this material was the key to hurting Superman. Could it be harmful in other ways as well? Bill finally suggested that the paramedics remove all the green crystal that they could and otherwise treat Superman just as they would any other patient. He looked human. Hopefully he’d respond to what a human would. If not, there was nothing else they could do. Bill also made sure that every speck of the green crystal that they removed ended up in an evidence bag.

One of Bill’s own people had been interviewing Officer Smith. Bill had never seen a situation like this. Smith had acted quickly in taking down the man that had shot Superman. But he’d discharged his gun under circumstances that seemed odd at best. What was worse, the two shots he’d fired had both hit Lois Lane. The shot that had grazed Lois’s head had also seriously complicated the investigation. It had gone through the throat of the shooter and destroyed his carotid artery. Superman’s assailant was dead from blood loss before the paramedics could arrive.

As Bill approached Smith, he focused on trying to remain calm. “Officer Smith, you realize that there will have to be an investigation of today’s events.”

“Yes, Inspector,” he replied, obviously nervous.

“What were you thinking!?” Bill demanded, suddenly angry at the completely irresponsible behavior of the young officer.

Smith recoiled at the outburst from his superior. Then he steadied himself and responded calmly. “I saw that man pull a gun and aim for the podium. I reached for my gun, but before I could do anything, he’d fired. By the time I had my gun out and was about to yell for him to freeze, he’d fired the second shot. This time I saw the slug hit Superman and I saw the burst of blood from his chest. I looked back at the gunman and in that instant I thought I had a clear shot. I made a snap decision to fire. I didn’t see the woman until I had squeezed off the second shot.”

Bill just stared at the young officer. It seemed a straightforward case of bad judgment under pressure, but something didn’t feel right. In any case, this wasn’t the place to interrogate a police officer.

“That’ll be it for now. Once I see your written report, I’ll probably have more questions. I’m sure you know that it’s standard procedure for you to be put on administrative leave pending a fuller investigation of the shooting.”

“I understand, Inspector.”

As Bill turned and started one last circuit of the area, he couldn’t help but believe that this case was going to get very complicated before it closed.

~~~***~~~

Lex starred at his desk. This was not the pleasant afternoon he’d expected. Superman wasn’t dead and Lois had been shot. LNN had covered the press conference live, and Lex had made a point to watch. It had unfolded almost exactly as planned. Almost….

The fools who had accepted the anti-Superman message were more accommodating than he’d imagined. He had been worried that no one would throw anything at Superman. Mrs. Cox had instructed their people that they were not to throw debris. Lex had only his assistant’s word that some idiots would spontaneously do just that. However, she had been confident that with some prodding, the more radical members of the crowd would provide the physical assault. As usual, she had been exactly correct.

Lex had been disappointed that the hero had been able to catch or avoid all the objects thrown his way. He had fervently hoped to see Superman with literal egg on his face when he got his just desserts.

However, any disappointment was more than made up for when Superman was shot. The image of his hand exploding in blood was one that Lex would relish forever. And the look on his face had been priceless. That combination of surprise and pain… Lex had replayed that tape at least a dozen times. The Kryptonite had worked. The explosions of blood on his chest as subsequent shots hit were wonderful. LNN would certainly put together a documentary on this shooting that would show the impacts over and over. The pleasure it would bring him would be almost endless.

But when the LNN camera swung over the crowd to show the shooter, Lex’s heart skipped. There were two bodies on the ground. Lex had always been able to recognize his possessions instantly. That was Lois, and she was bleeding. It had taken more time than he would have imagined to regain a measure of control. It had been several hours and he now felt just calm enough to speak with Ms. Cox. Even so, it was with barely controlled fury that he pressed the call button for his assistant.

As she entered the room, he could feel the anger starting to get away from him. He paid her very well to make sure these kinds of complications didn’t take place. He needed to be extra careful to avoid letting his irritation lead him to an ill-considered act. Lex ended up resorting to a calming mantra that he rarely needed to use. ‘Best served cold,’ he kept repeating to himself as she came across the room. Mrs. Cox finally reached the center of the room and stopped. “Report,” he said with as much control as he could muster.

“Ms. Lane is scheduled for the ICU at Memorial Hospital. She came out of surgery to remove the bullet from her shoulder fifteen minutes ago. She is still in recovery. She is doing well and there are no indications of lingering injuries from the shooting.”

“What of Superman?” Lex snapped.

“Information on him is restricted. Since Ms. Lane is an ordinary citizen, we haven’t had too much trouble extracting information on her condition from the hospital. In the case of Superman, we will have to depend on more covert sources. I have been able to discover two facts. First, his special abilities are gone. The paramedics were able to pierce his skin with an IV needle. Furthermore, based on the preliminary paramedic’s report, once you strip away the powers, he appears to be completely human.”

That was surprising. Superman was supposed to be an alien. “In what way is he human?”

“His blood appears to be human blood. His organs were, to the extent that he paramedics could determine, all present and in the same place as a human. And finally, when they administered medications for trauma, his body reacted the way a human’s would.”

Lex considered this for a moment. Based on this evidence, it appeared that any story of Superman being an alien must be untrue. Still, the fact that meteor rock was the key to harming him suggested that the source of his abilities, if not the man himself, was extraterrestrial. But that could all wait for later.

“Can you explain how Superman survived?”

“As you know, while Donaldson was the visible aggressor, we had a sharpshooter on the roof across the street. She reported firing two shots and claimed that they were both within inches of the presumed location of Superman’s heart.”

“Is this individual reliable?”

“Yes, sir. This is our top assassin. She has never failed an assignment before.”

“Do we have confirmation of what she claims?”

“We appear to. The paramedics that attended Superman report four chest wounds. Two were in the area of his shoulder and two were in the vicinity of his heart.”

“Then how did he survive?”

“Not all of the bullets penetrated deeply. It appears that even using the Kryptonite bullets, Superman’s body was difficult to penetrate. We had anticipated this and the cartridges were mixed with a special high-velocity propellant to make sure they had the maximum possible penetration capability. Obviously it didn’t work as well as we hoped.”

“Were we able to recover any of the Kryptonite?”

“Not yet. As you recall, we had enough of the material for six bullets. Four were made from the pure crystal. The other two were constructed from the residue from machining the first four. Five were fired into Superman. The sixth remained in the chamber of Donaldson’s pistol and was recovered by the police. As for the spent rounds, to the best we can determine at this time, all that Kryptonite ended up in Superman’s body.”

“Let me know when we recover any of the material, either from Superman or from the police evidence room.”

Lex thought for a moment. That seemed to clear up his questions relating to Superman, at least for now. The Kryptonite would prove valuable if somehow Superman managed to survive. The challenge would be to determine how to use it more effectively next time.

Now, to the important topic. “Mrs. Cox, please explain the circumstances and decisions that led to Lois being injured.” Lex knew there was genuine menace in his tone. She had to understand the magnitude of his displeasure.

Mrs. Cox straightened her shoulders. “Ultimately it was my error. I chose this policeman based on his skill with a pistol and his ability to get assigned to this operation without raising questions. I directed him to make sure that after a minimum of three shots hit Superman, Donaldson would be in no condition to provide any evidence to the police. I had stressed the importance that Donaldson had to be silenced even if a bystander might be injured. Two factors led to Ms. Lane’s injuries. First, when planning the operation, I did not consider the possibility that Ms. Lane would be in the line of fire. Second, since Smith is not a member of our usual organization, he was never briefed on Ms. Lane’s protected status.”

It was a reasonable explanation. There would be no value in pointing out that he would not tolerate a repetition of this error. She knew the price of failure. Unfortunately, she was too important to punish for this single offense, no matter how much he would enjoy it personally. Still, someone had to pay for what happened to Lois. The Boss had declared that she was untouchable, yet she’d been injured. This could lead to the belief that his directives could be violated. “This policeman…”

“Smith,” Mrs. Cox supplied.

“Does he have a family?” Lex asked.

“Yes. A wife and a baby daughter.”

Lex considered how best to reward someone that risked the life of a woman that he coveted. His mind flashed back to his mantra and he had his answer. “It’s sad when a man loses his family during the holiday season. Arrange a tragic accident for Smith’s wife and daughter. Schedule it for the day before Christmas.”

~~~***~~~

There were muffled sounds that Lois didn’t recognize. Where was she? Her thoughts felt muddled and she didn’t feel right. It wasn’t until she noticed a movement or at least a change in light, that she realized that her eyes were open. Then she heard a vague, muffled voice. She tried to concentrate, but everything, even sound, seemed fuzzy and indistinct. She tried even harder and the sounds started to form themselves into words. “Are you awake? Ms. Lane, can you hear me?”

Lois looked toward the sound. After a few seconds, the hazy blue blob resolved to the form of a nurse in surgical garb. “What?” Lois managed weakly.

She heard the nurse’s voice again. It sounded as if the source were far away. “You’re at Memorial Hospital. You just came out of surgery to remove a bullet from your shoulder. Do you remember getting shot?”

Suddenly she remembered blood on the Superman suit. “Clark was shot.” Her intent was urgent but her voice was slow and sloppy.

“No, Lois. Superman was shot. Then you were hit in the shoulder by the policeman trying to stop Superman’s shooter.”

“I was shot?”

“Yes, Lois. But you are going to be fine.”

It was starting to come back to her. “Is Clark okay?”

“Lois, who is Clark?”

Everything was so confusing. Trying to think was like swimming in molasses. But thinking about Clark felt so nice. An image from his visit the other night slid into her mind. “Clark is my partner. He kisses really nice,” Lois answered groggily.

The face disappeared. Then she heard voices, but they sounded like they were a world away.

“…awake and asking for someone named Clark. It sounds like he’s her boyfriend.”

A new voice answered. “There’s no Clark on her admittance information sheet. Just a note about Lex Luthor.”

Then louder. “Jenny, can you spare a minute?”

“What’s up?” Another new voice.

“Didn’t you say you knew something about Lois Lane?”

“Yeah, I loved her articles in The Daily Planet.”

“She’s asking for someone named Clark. She says he’s her partner.”

“Oh, I know. She must mean Clark Kent. The two of them co-authored a bunch of stories for The Daily Planet before it closed. I saw his picture once, he’s a real dreamboat.”

“Okay, that explains it. Has he been around?”

“No. The only person that’s been in was that policeman, Henderson.”

Things were beginning to get clear, but trying to think still felt like swimming in goo. Then Lois heard the nurse’s voice again. “Lois, Clark isn’t here. You remember that The Daily Planet went out of business, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she managed weakly. “Clark left but he came back to me.”

“I’m sure he did, Lois. I’m sorry, but he isn’t here now. I’m sure he’ll be in to see you. Besides, you’ll probably be out real soon and you can see him yourself.”

How could she see him if she was out of the hospital? He was badly hurt. Then it clicked, he’d been in the Superman suit when he’d been shot. She’d been asking for Clark. Stupid drugs. She took a second to try to get control of her slippery thoughts. “I’m sorry, I just feel so confused. Clark had to leave Metropolis last week and I’ve been missing him.”

“That’s okay, dear. When people are coming out of anesthesia things can seem very confused at first.”

“Is Superman okay?” Lois asked. “I remember seeing him get shot.”

“He’s still in surgery. I’m afraid that we don’t have any news beyond that.”

“Please let me know when he’s out,” Lois requested. Then she felt a wave of fatigue and, seemingly on their own, her eyes closed.

“Lois, do you still feel tired?” The voice was far away again.

“Yes,” she barely managed to answer.

“Go ahead and rest then. You body has been through a lot. You need to rest so you can heal.”

Then from a distance, “She’s really struggling. Who was her anesthesiologist?”

“Harris,” came the reply.

“Well that explains it. He always gives his patients too much. Last week we had this guy who was babbling about being his own mother and father. You’d think someone would talk to Dr. Harris about using lower dosages on his patients.”

“Not unless it’s another doctor.”

“Someone should say something.”

“Don’t do it, girl. That’s a quick trip to unemployment.”

A tiny voice way in the back of Lois’s mind whispered the word, ‘investigation’ but Lois was too tired to think. The voices continued, but faded to a confused murmur as Lois began to feel like she was floating. It felt like flying with Clark. He’d be okay. He had to be.

TBC

Bob