“Your wedding dress will be the talk of Metropolis, Miss Grant! There should be no chance of either it or Miss Pallister’s dress wrinkling before the big day! Please see us again if you need any dresses for future occasions.” the salesclerk gushed as she carefully wrapped Cat and Diane’s dresses in paper and then separate garment bags. Another woman packed boxes of various sizes that contained satin sandals, jewelry and hair accessories into two large paper bags each marked with their names.
“We are really happy with all your assistance. Thank you again.” Cat beamed back at the young woman. Unbeknownst to either reporter, two other shoppers were trying on gowns in another part of the exclusive boutique. A part reserved for the elite customer who requires private fittings, fittings without the prying eyes of gossipy patrons and the media.
If Cat Grant knew the proprietor Madeline Darcy provided this special service, she would have camped in front of the store day and night for exclusives on many of Metropolis’ leading female citizens.
Blissfully unaware that the future Mrs. Lex Luthor was serenely trying on wedding gowns, Cat and Diane exited the high-end shop holding the cumbersome bags. Fortunately, the gossip columnist had rented a limousine, just so she and Diane could shop without the worry of driving through Metropolis torturous traffic or carrying shopping bags.
Diane sat back in the luxurious Corinthian leather seating and took a cup of strawberry yogurt from Cat. “Whew! It took two hours, but we got everything! Talk about one stop shopping! Is this the place where all of your lovely evening clothes come from?”
“Yes. Darcy’s caters to dressing for the businesswoman who has no time. Unfortunately, that describes me perfectly these days.” She looked at her ring and smiled triumphantly. “Oh well, despite all the craziness of planning this event, I’m having a ball! After all it's not every day that a girl get’s hitched!”
“Still, it is a life changing event, how do you manage to stay so calm?” Diane asked cautiously.
Cat smiled. “Easy. Diane, this is my last hoorah as *the* Metropolis gossip columnist I want it to be memorable. Once we move to Seattle, I become a part-time reporter and student. But being a married woman, *that’s* something to be nervous about. In comparison, putting together a wedding is easy. Now there’s one last stop to make… George’s wedding present.”
“What did you get him?” Diane’s green eyes glittered with excitement.
“An antique Rolex Oyster watch. This is a rare fifties model in 14k gold case and is fit with a new black leather strap.”
“Where are you getting it from?” Diane nervously glanced at her watch. Their lunchtime was long over. "It’s one thirty. Do we have time to pick it up?”
“Yes, Mr. Mazik said it would be finished by two o’clock. We have plenty of time to get through traffic and back to work. Besides, this shopping trip will make a wonderful article for the Weekend section. Especially since, it is ‘bride season’! So don’t worry about your boss Mr. Leatherwood. Live a little!” Cat smiled and raised her bottle of Perrier in triumph.
“Oh! I could get used to this kind of living!” She gushed, than became serious. “Uh, I have been meaning to ask, why appoint me to be your Maid of Honor? Oh, we’ve worked together on the Planet and even socialized a bit, but this is such a privilege. I thought since you and Lois are on better terms, she might have been a bridesmaid? What about Jenni Reid?” Her voice trailed off.
“Jenni will be here a couple of weeks before the ceremony. The London Times has allowed her a long vacation to ‘work’ on an assignment. It’ll be great having her in the bullpen again. When Perry finds out she’s on this side of the Atlantic Ocean, he’ll be excited and scared all at once!”
Cat laughed, than grew thoughtful. “To answer your main question, the kind of reporting I do puts me in contact with a number of very untrustworthy characters. Lying, paying off creepy sources for information, and just plain deceitfulness is a regular part of my job. After a while, being in such an environment seems normal. However, with George’s help, all of that is changing. Planning a wedding meant surrounding myself with dependable people… like you.” She paused and went a little further with her explanation. “Lois Lane *is* trustworthy. Hell, I would follow her into a volcano to get a story, because her integrity and news sense is impeccable. However, this is *my* wedding, and Miss Lane’s attention is on her partner.”
“Yeah, that is kind of obvious. Kent is a real dreamboat. Still, I don’t know what to say except, thank you. What a fantastic adventure! George Amundsen does not know what a prize he’s getting.”
“No, thank you for all your kindness and patience Diane,” Cat’s eyes flashed mischievously.
“Now before we get too serious, hand me a yogurt or I’ll die of starvation!”
***
At LexSolar, an agitated Dr. Scott yelled at an equally hapless lab assistant. “Hurry up and get those two crates packed! Make sure Cliff knows to bring the SUV around the loading dock. I don’t have all day!”
The assistant promised himself that as soon as Scott drove off, he intended to hand in his resignation to the HR department, effective immediately. No job was worth this kind of abuse, special bonus be hanged!
Dr. Scott was careful to avoid walking outside on the loading dock. Ever since yesterday, he had the strongest feeling of watchful eyes tailing his every move. Working for Antoinette Baines had taught him a thing or two about surveillance. As soon as his assistant packed the van and went back to the lab, he intended to sneak into the vehicle and have Cliff drive. They would hold up somewhere in Metropolis until it was time to meet Cameron and Lucky Leon.
***
As it was the last time Lois and Clark visited Pier 17, the weather had turned to rain. However, on this occasion, instead of the slightly chilled rain of spring, it was summer and the air was just a touch on the humid side. Thick billowing clouds of fog swirling around the pier did not help visibility. They sat quietly in the jeep looking over Pier 17. There were no ships in the slip, but a number of watertight, painted, standard 8x8x40 ft. shipping containers were stacked in picturesque disorder around them.
“So where is the military? How on Earth can they find us among all these large shipping containers?” Lois wondered as she tried looking for Captain Maynard and his Special Forces team.
“Oh, don’t worry, they are probably hiding in plain sight. These guys don’t like to advertise their whereabouts.” Clark said.
“So how do we get in contact with them when Scott and company arrive?”
“I’m sure they’ll contact us. Lois, come on relax, it’s not like Superman can’t show up at the last minute and get us out of a jam.”
“Ok,” she sighed, but I still like to know where the extra cavalry is… in case we need them.”
***
The night staff for the Daily Planet was trickling in as the regular staff began to depart for the evening. Eduardo was entering the elevator, anxious to get home to his family for dinner. Lori had promised to make his favor dessert, peach cobbler. He didn’t want to arrive home late and the dish gone cold.
Diane was talking on the phone with a make-up stylist Cat had suggested. As the Maid of Honor, the diffident reporter was eager to shine. Hanging out with Cat for the past couple of weeks had boosted her confidence so she wanted to try a new hairdo.
Steve looked over some research Jack had pulled up for him. The young man showed promise, not just as a researcher, but with whatever task he set his keen mind to accomplish.
“Jack, this is first-rate research on that gambling cover-up. The Metropolis basketball team manager is going to have to answer a lot of uncomfortable questions when this story hits the papers.” Steve smiled at the youngster. “Kent sure knew what he was doing bring you on board.
“Thanks, Mr. Landers. I’ll just put this material away in the morgue and finish up the final details in the morning.”
“Great. See you in the am.” Steve laid a beefy paw on Jack’s back in hearty thank you and walked up the ramp. “Good Night Diane.” He purposely did not say anything to the last member of the morning team. Ralph was sitting at his desk writing a story about the Metropolis flower show. Once again, the senior editor had to put the man into ‘Perry’s doghouse’.
The elevator opened and Jimmy burst in and ran down the ramp, nearly colliding into Steve. He was immaculately dressed in an elegant tuxedo, his ubiquitous photographer’s bag hung over his left shoulder. Diane interrupted her phone conversation and let loose with a low appreciative whistle. Steve, despite the near collision, gave the thumbs up sign and Jack worked hard to suppress a chuckle.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the reception?” Jack asked his friend.
“Yeah, I’m looking for my special night lens, there are bound to be a few outside nighttime shots.” Quickly he rifled through his top desk drawer and found the item. “Smooth. Now all I need is a speedy cab.” Seeing Ralph, Jimmy walked over to Jack and lowering his voice asked, “Did Lois and CK leave for the stakeout at Pier 17 already?”
“Yeah, he mentioned something about pizza first.”
“OK. See you tomorrow.” With that, Jimmy once again bounded up the ramp and to the stairs. Thinking he could probably make better time running downstairs than waiting for the elevator. Jack, finally let loose with a quiet chuckle, gathered up his papers and went to the morgue.
Ralph glanced around the near empty newsroom in askance. He was perfectly aware of the staff’s dislike for him, but someday they would be sorry. Someday he would crack a case bigger than anything Lois and Clark had ever done. Unexpectedly the phone on Clark Kent’s desk began to ring shrilly in the quiet newsroom. Sauntering over to his desk, Ralph picked it up hoping it was one of the other reporter’s sources.
“Daily Planet. Clark Kent’s desk.”
“Oh, this is an… acquaintance of Mr. Kent’s, my name is Maynard. Is he around by any chance?”
“Uh no. He’s on a stakeout.”
“Oh, really? Do you know where?”
“Yeah, Pier 17… uh 19. He and Miss Lane are there.”
“Perfect.” The phone went dead.
“Figures. Probably one of Kent’s ‘high end’ snitches. Well, that will keep him in knots looking for ‘The Hottest Team in Town.” Not thinking for a minute of the damage his lie had done, Ralph packed up his things for the night and went home.
***
Lois and Clark sat in the front seat of her jeep. They had eaten their pizza and talked of many things. Now all was quiet, except for the sound of mellow jazz playing ever so sweetly in the background. They both recognized it as one of Clark’s favorite tunes, Etta James singing “At Last”.
The partners looked out of the windshield and held hands, since conversation had slowed to a companionable silence they appreciated the opportunity to bask in gentle serenity. More heavy fog rolled in off the water and onto Pier 17 making it particularly hard to see anything under these weather conditions. Off in the distance, the quiet reassuring sound of an ancient foghorn could be heard warning mariners within the vicinity to avoid Metropolis rocky shoreline.
“I love this song.” Clark whispered.
“So does Superman”, Lois answered tenderly. “We danced on air at my apartment remember? After the party where Mayson interrupted us. I went home after Perry danced with me.”
The handsome face colored ever so slightly. “Hurting you was the last thing on my mind that night Lois. You looked so disappointed seeing me dance with Mayson. I wanted us to spend time together at your place. So, I came over in the suit and I couldn’t help myself. It was the most natural thing in the world to dance on air with you.” He smiled sheepishly.
“You know, a relationship is a lot like a beautiful dance; long, slow and everything in between. Sometimes, one of the partners gets out of sync. But if the other one is patient, they can move smoothly back into the dance.
Lois sigh, “Clark Kent, I am not a very good dancer.”
“Yes you are, all you need is practice. Mayson Drake is a friend, nothing more, she does *not* pose a threat to our relationship.”
“It’s Okay Clark,” She whispered in a small voice. “Mayson is not the problem… it’s me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“My Father walking out on his family. Paul’s decision to date Linda King rather than me. Claude’s painful betrayal. Take your pick. I am not exactly the poster girl for stable relationships.” Lois’ hands fumbled with the clasp of her briefcase in an agitated manner. The sweet mood evaporated, as if it had never been.
“Hey, look it’s me, Clark. I am not Claude and I’m *definitely* not your Father.” His eyes twinkled wickedly when he said that. Cupping her face with both of his hands, Clark spoke, his, voice firm and true. “It takes two people to make a relationship work. Deep inside Lois Lane, you want what we have between us to work as much, if not more than I do. The first part of the job is communication, not yelling or angry silence, but communication. So *talk* to me.”
His eyes watched as she reached into her briefcase, pulled out a crumbled silk hankie, and dabbed her cheeks. “Oh Clark, I make such a mess of things. We *are* supposed to be on stakeout, not exploring our feelings.”
“You forget partner, I can hear or see anything long before it becomes a problem.”
“Oh, so that means I won’t have to carry around these anymore?” She dived into her briefcase and pulled out her Zeiss binoculars.
“Only when you’re going on stakeout with Jimmy… or Ralph.”
He grinned as Lois made a rude noise. “Like that’ll ever happen!” She snapped. Her mood quickly changed to contemplative again. “Seriously Clark, relationships scare me. I am not very good at being a friend. Ask Molly Flynn or any of my previous work partners. The aftermath of my ‘relationship’ with Claude left a lot of damage to my personal as well as professional reputation. Working as a respected investigative journalist has been my total focus for so many years to repair that damage. Everything else; old college friends, Uncle Mike and even talking with Lucy all fell by the wayside. Kindness and time are things to be appreciated and extended to people, I… I just don’t know where to begin.”
“Just about everybody at the Planet respects how hard you work to crack a story and tell the truth. Uncle Mike loves you and knows how much journalism means to you. As for Lucy, she gets a lot of her spunk from you. Respect is a great starting foundation to build friendships… like the one we share.”
“Maybe I should stop living in the past,” she sighed. “Claude was another lifetime ago. It is time to build on the good people in my life today *and* concentrate on us.”
“What Claude did to you was demeaning and cruel. However, a stronger woman emerged from the ashes of that unfortunate time. Anyone else might have quit rather than face the music at the Planet. Such strength of character is one of the incredible things I love about you.” Clark whispered his voice hoarse with passion. Between the strains of Duke Ellington’s Rhapsody in Blue, the inky darkness of the night and the enticing scent of Lois’ perfume, he was all too aware of her beauty, yet terrible vulnerability. “I won’t ever leave you Lois, that’s a promise. Let’s be here for each other - always.”
Clark watched as the striking brown-haired woman nodded her head in a contemplative fashion. He hoped she was taking in all he had said, because every word came from his heart.
“Always?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Miss Lane.”
As an answer, she reached over took his face in her hands and pulled him gently to her. Their lips brushed each other chastely. However, for two people so in love, chasteness was put to the test as the kiss became deeper, richer and so very passionate. Abruptly everything around them disappeared, only the rush of feelings and desire remained. Clark began to kiss her neck as Lois racked nails over his back.
“Lois we have to stop”, Clark murmured as he kissed the tender flesh. “This is not right.”
“Oh no,” she breathed, “Its right. It is perfect. Do *not* stop.”
The blood roaring in Clark’s ears began to cloud his judgment, he had held back for so long and wanted to show her just how strong his love for her was. But a small voice in the back of his mind began to shout above the desire and desperate need. With all the effort of will he could bring to bear, Clark placed his hands on Lois’ shoulders resisting any further touching. “No, we have to stop, this is not right. Not here. Not now. You are better than that. *We* are better than that.”
“Clark… I don’t understand.” Lois answered a hurt tone in her voice.
He gently released her and leaned back in his seat. Slowly, he took a couple of breaths to calm himself before speaking. “When we make love for the first time it should be right, I’ve waited a long time.”
“Well yes, it has been awhile for…”
No, uh, Lois you don’t understand… I have *never* been intimate with a woman.”
“You mean - you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” Clark said only slightly embarrassed. “I’m a Kryptonian. Prior to our discovering the globe, my Father Jor-El sent in the ship, there were so many mysteries about who I was. The woman who shared my life had to be the *right* one. So I waited.”
“Oh,” her voice small. “That’s wonderful and so sweet. I regret not having waited… ”
“We can wait for each other.” He touched her face tenderly. “But here in the front seat of your jeep is all wrong.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes, hoping the import of his words sunk into her mind. Being with her as a man was important to him, but their intimacy ought to be proper and beautiful, not rushed like a couple of hot teen-agers in the back seat of a borrowed car.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Clark said, “Hey, this *is* supposed to be a stakeout. Why don’t we keep an eye on Pier 17? At this rate the bad guys will have come and gone.”
“Right.” His partner said with a slightly sullen air. She quickly straightened her clothes and once again, fished into the ‘bottomless’ briefcase and pulled out the Zeiss binoculars again. “It’s nine thirty, at this rate; the only thing we are going to catch is a lot of flak from Perry if we don’t come up with a story.”
Clark mouth corners tugged into a genuine hundred-watt grin, “I cannot imagine us striking out twice at the same place. Maybe you can pitch your cooking lessons with Uncle Mike into a story for the Weekend section?”
At first, she gaped at him in utter surprise, than playfully batted him with her binoculars. Clark feigned her off, but started laughing.
“That’s it! Both you and Uncle Mike are in *my* doghouse."
“I am always in the doghouse… shh!” He abruptly held his hand up for quiet and saw Lois fall silent, although questions blazed in her expressive brown eyes.
They both listened intently. Clark activated his night-vision and began scanning the large shipping containers for any sign of life. It was entirely possible his sensitive hearing only picked up an animal denizen of the pier or one of General Zeitlin’s men. Either way he had to be certain, especially with Lois so close by.
“Clark, look over there at that green container!” came the hoarse whisper. Somebody is shining a flashlight.”
“More than just one somebody. It looks like there are maybe ten men walking into that green container over there and they are *not* military police.”
“How do you know?” Lois asked while pulling her special ‘night’ camera from the briefcase.
The temptation to make a remark about the briefcase’s contents played on the tip of his tongue. But cute comments could come after they ‘bagged’ the bad guys.
“Because one of them is Lucky Leon, I seriously doubt if he’s under Captain Maynard’s supervision.”
Under the guidance of Clark’s night vision, Lois took several pictures of the men gathered near the crate talking. Apparently, by the way they kept looking around the pier, they were anxiously waiting for someone.
“Lois, my hearing is picking up the sound of a car, it heading straight for the green shipping container.”
“Great! Let’s get some pictures of them in the act, it’ll help the case. Not to mention Perry and the DA’s office will love us forever!”
“OK. Careful, don’t let the light go off in the car.” Clark whispered softly.
“Hey! This is not my first stakeout Clark!” she exclaimed with an excited trill in her voice. Eager to be in on the end of the case, Lois put the camera in the briefcase and threw it over her shoulder.
Surreptitiously the reporting duo exited the jeep and wound their way through the dark maze of shipping containers. The men hanging around the green container began to complain about getting wet. Lucky Leon, sheltered by a small black umbrella, unlocked the door and everyone went inside. Unfortunately, the flashlight went inside the container as well. Once again the duo were grateful for Clark’s infrared vision, otherwise observing the stakeout would be impossible due to the darkness, drizzling rain, and fog.
“Achoo!” Lois sneezed. The unexpected sound caused Clark’s heart to skip more than a few beats. He stared at her with a mixture of dread and surprise on his face. <When did her cold come back?> He asked himself. “Lo-is. Now is the wrong time for sneezing fits,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry. My nose got a tickle,” she answered in a small embarrassed voice. But his hearing detected she was working hard to hold back another sneeze.
They stopped in their tracks for a few anxious moments, on tenterhooks, fearing that perhaps the Intergang members had heard the sound.
“All clear?” Lois queried.
“Yes. But let’s be very quiet.”
***
“I know.” She replied, irritated at herself and Clark’s pedantic request. She slipped her hand in his to keep up as they inched closer to the shipping container. Unexpectedly two identical cones of light from an approaching SUV surrounded the container, allowing the reporters to see the entire area with ease. The SUV had rolled to a stop, the passenger’s side door opened and a short man stepped out. He hurriedly walked over to Lucky Leon and Cameron Axelrod just as they exited the container. Lois smiled triumphantly.
“Perfect. A bad guy class reunion.” she whispered. Letting go of his hand she raised the camera up and quickly snapped off a couple of shots. “Come on, let’s see those crystals, without them this is just a meeting among felons. Nothing of an illegal nature is happening that’ll stand up in court. Speaking of illegal, *where* is the good Captain and his team?”
“Shh. They’re arguing about something.”
Lois strained her ears to listen. Than glanced over at her partner. <Blast! It would be so nice to share powers at a time like this.>
She continued to watch the three men, Scott was excitingly gesturing to the SUV. Lucky Leon shook his head in disagreement while Axelrod hung back watching both men with a cool detached air of anticipation. Unless she misunderstood their body language, something very unpleasant was about to happen.
“I wonder why Dr. Scott is arguing. Why doesn’t he go inside the container?” Clark asked.
“Better yet, bring out those crystals. We need proof Scott was the one behind the theft.”
“Lois, didn’t we agree *Luthor* is the real mastermind of this whole operation?”
“Yeah, but we only have our suspicions, without evidence connecting Scott to him, we have nothing to hang Luthor with. The key to *everything* is catching Scott and the Intergang thugs with the crystals. With the way he’s complaining I’ll bet he’s got a double-cross planned.”
“Nope.” Her partner answered, as he listened to the conversation. “Scott wants more money.”
Lois rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Money? Is that all these crooks ever think about?”
The hairs on Lois’s hair tingled when she heard a rough voice growl, “World peace ain’t exactly high on our list of priorities. Now, git your hands up!”
For the second time that evening, the mood took a suddenly and unpleasant shift. A burly man, waved his gun at them, indicating they needed to start walking towards the shipping container.
“Cl..ark?” His partner looked at him, her brown eyes wide with surprise and apprehension. Lois could tell he was calculating the time and speed required to pick her up and fly away, but such an action was out of the question. Unfortunately, he had to be patient and wait for an opening to get her safely away from danger. “Shhh… it will be all right.”
Cliff impatiently pointed his gun in the direction of the green container, the two reporters reluctantly walked over. Their guard breathed hard and Lois could smell the faintest whiff of alcohol. By his voice, she could tell he was the same man who searched Dr. Scott’s office the night of her break-in. Cliff was his name. If she could just distract him, Clark could get away and change into Superman. Speaking of super abilities, where was Clark’s sensitive hearing at a time like this? She whispered in a voice only he could hear.
“What happened? How did he get the jump on us?”
Instead of answering her, Clark turned his attention to Cliff. “So they have you doing guard duty while the rest of them share in the loot?”
“Nope, I was just walking back after going to the bathroom and saw you two hiding behind the crates. I figured it was wrong for anybody to be out on a night like tonight. So you people have gotta be either reporters or feds. Keep walking towards the container.”
“We are Lane and Kent from the Daily Planet and we can put in a good word with the authorities if you’ll let us go.” Clark said, with a whiny plea in his voice.
“Yeah. Right. Do I look dumb or something?”
<Now that you mention it… > Lois thought with grim amusement.
The hulky guard said nothing further, only pushed his gun into Lois’ back. She groaned in pain and stumbled. She sensed rather than felt Clark’s body go tense and knew his Kryptonian reflexes were about to come into play and seriously harm Cliff. “Clark!” She gasped out, taking his arm, “I’m all right. Don’t do anything.”
Cliff laughed, a nasty barking sound. “What’s the boyfriend gonna do? Not as long as I have this.” He waved the weapon around and started to laugh again. As they walked closer to the light, Lois could make out Clark’s features and what she beheld truly frightened her. Clark stopped, turned and spoke to Cliff, his voice low and precarious. “Touch her again and you will see what I can do. Trust me, you have no idea who you are dealing with.” The guard must have seen Clark’s face as well; he cursed loudly and pointed his gun towards the container and his companions.
“Hey, Dr. Scott. Look what I found!” Cliff shouted as he pushed the duo into the light coming from the SUV.
Dr. Scott glanced up to find his henchman pushing two people towards him. “Moron! That’s all we need are witnesses to this transaction. I’ll deal with you later.”
“Scott, these are not just any witnesses, but the famous Clark Kent and Lois Lane, ace investigative reporters for the Daily Planet. I’ve tangled before with them and it got me arrested and deported.” Lucky Leon snarled.
“If you were deported, what are you doing back here?” Lois demanded in a bid for time.
“Come Miss Lane, a power source like the harmonic crystals are too valuable to be left in hands of a bunch of nerdy scientists and business men. It must be shared with rest of world… or our version of it.” Leon said.
“Oh great, reporters, just what we need!” Scott shouted. “Cliff, tie them up and throw them into the shipping container until we complete our business here.”
Cameron Axelrod stepped up and spoke. “Shut up. I speak for Intergang and these two aren’t going to be tied to anything but an anchor. But before anything else happens, where are the crystals?”
“Wait a minute.” Scott snapped, genuine fear in his voice. “Nobody said anything about murder!”
“Welcome to the real world Frederick… not that you’re going to be in it much longer.” Axelrod pulled out a gun and pointed the business end at the frightened scientist. Meanwhile an Intergang cohort disarmed Cliff. “Now… the crystals?”
Dr. Scott dug into his jacket pocket and tossed over his keys, “In the back of the SUV.”
One of the gang cohorts took the keys from Cameron and opened the vehicle. Inside were four very large black crates. It took two men to lift one crate out and drag it over to Cameron and Lucky Leon. Cameron bent down and opened the lid, inside were dozens of glowing lavender and white crystals, each the size of a man’s fist.
“Oh, now will you look at that,” Cameron whispered reverently. “The ultimate power source of the new millennium, Intergang is going to be embarrassingly rich.”
“Since you have what you want, how about letting me go?” Scott pleaded.
“Sorry Frederick, but Intergang prides itself on tidying up loose ends. You and your man get over there with those reporters.”
Scott started yelling at Cameron to release him. The atmosphere around the shipping container became fraught with tension. Clark leaned down and whispered to Lois, “I’m going to use my heat vision to put out the headlights, when that happens, get behind me and I’ll fly you out of here.”
Lois opened her mouth to answer when a gunshot went off and the night air became filled with the ugly harsh sounds of Dr. Frederick Scott screaming shrilly. “Cameron… I’ll kill you!” Then, he collapsed to the wet ground holding his abdomen. Cliff, in a misguided attempt to help his employer struggled with the two men holding him. One of the thugs had Cliff’s gun tucked in his belt, in the ensuing scuffle, the firearm fell out onto the ground and discharged. The bullet lodged in the man’s shoulder causing him to release Cliff, who turned and landed a solid punch to the stomach of his other captor. He made a swift dive towards the gun before anyone could stop him and began shooting randomly towards the men remaining in the shipping container.
***
Clark realized this was his chance, grabbed Lois, moved into the darkness, and flew away. The sounds of rapid gunfire ricocheting off the massive shipping containers, men’s frightened shouts of anger, and Dr. Scott’s screams of pain punctuated the heavy dampness of the night air.
Clark flew at super speed to get Lois out of harm’s way. He set her down by another shipping container, close enough to observe the action, but far enough away for her safety. He spun into the suit and prepared to return to the battle when he heard Lois say, “Be careful Superman. I’ll wait here and get some great shots of you mopping up the bad guys”.
He could not help but ask, “Are you sure you’ll stay right here?”
“Yes, now go!”
The superhero glazed into her eyes, trust Lois to think about the story first, despite the danger involved. In his best stern, authorative voice he replied, “All right Miss Lane.” He sped back to the shipping container and disarmed the criminals. He bent down to check on the injured gang member, than put all of them into the shipping container to await Captain Maynard and his men.
He counted nine men, not including the still screaming Dr. Scott and Cliff.
Where had Cameron Axelrod, Lucky Leon, and the SUV disappeared to?
A rapid search revealed the crystals were gone as well. Somehow, in all the noise and confusion the two desperate men had managed to elude him. Clark crisscrossed the area frantically looking for the rogue scientist and the former KGB operative to no avail. To come so close to locating the elusive crystals only to lose them now was unthinkable. He stopped flying and floated a few feet off the ground shutting out all other noises of the wet foggy night. He held that position for a minute or two, listening for the sound of a powerful eight-cylinder engine.
He thought back only ten minutes ago when Cliff caught him off guard. How could he tell Lois he was so intently listening to the gangsters – and the sound of her delicate heartbeat he allowed Cliff to sneak up on them? It was a stupid mistake. One that almost got Lois hurt when that goon shoved the pistol into her back. She meant everything to him, if Cliff had caused her any harm…
Unexpectedly off in the distance near Pier Eighteen he heard a heavy car door slam and an angry voice loudly swearing in Russian.
“I knew it! Those reporters are dangerous! They even trick a professional like you! We should have forced Scott yesterday to tell us where the crystals were and take them. But no, you wanted to wait for a submersible to arrive from New London, Connecticut. Idiot!”
Clark did not wait for a response but followed the sound of Lucky Leon’s voice. He arrived in time to see the two men struggling to remove a large black crate from the back of the vehicle. He landed besides them, folded muscular arms over his chest and spoke in the stern Superman voice.
“Gentlemen, I suggest putting down the box and raising your hands in the air.”
“I was wondering when you were going to show up Superman. Here’s a present for you.” Cameron Axelrod removed a slender black vial from his jacket pocket and opened it, revealing a familiar sickly green glow. Superman’s body broke out in sweat and shook violently with racking convulsions. He collapsed to the wet ground as waves of nausea and sharp stabbing pains rolled through him.
The Intergang chief walked toward him, knelt down, laying the vial at his feet. Without a backward glance, he returned to his companion and resumed moving the crate. But inexplicably, Cameron turned, rose his voice slightly and spoke to the dying Man of Steel.
“Superman, did you really think Intergang would give Diana Stride *all* of our kryptonite? This was just a precaution in case you showed up tonight. These harmonic crystals are too important for our future plans to allow any interference.”
Lucky Leon grunted as he helped lift the cumbersome crate. Together the twomen struggled to reach the pier’s edge. “Comrade, m…more lifting, less t…talking we need to get to the submersible. Superman is no longer problem.”
His companion ignored him and continued. “Oh I don’t know. My street cred would go through the roof if Superman dies by my hand.”
“Fine. You worry about ‘cred’ I worry about getting this crate loaded.”
Superman lay on the ground withering in agony, as the deadly mineral’s radiation coursed through his body. His lungs ached, each breathe drawn was sharp, rasping and raw. The darkness around him was closing in he began to distrust his vision. Any outcries of anguish would go unheeded, knowing these two men did not have a shred of mercy between them. The only thought to give him some small measure of comfort was that Lois did not have to witness him in such horrific pain.
Another thought came sharply into focus; where was Captain Maynard and his men?
***
After Clark had flown off in pursuit of Lucky Leon and Cameron, Lois fumbled in her briefcase for a cell phone and penlight. She called Inspector Henderson’s precinct and quickly told the duty sergeant what had taken place and where. She hung up, and then ran over to where Dr. Scott lay, his body covered in water and blood, now whimpering in pain.
“Don’t worry, the police and the paramedics will be here soon.” She spoke comfortingly.
“Fat lot of good a bunch of paramedics are going to do me! At best, I’ll end up in jail. But I ain’t planning on going alone...” Blood frothed between gritted teeth, before the scientist could speak again, he passed out.
Lois groaned in frustration and was about to call for the paramedics when she heard another cry of pain cut through the foggy night. <Clark!> She stood up, took out her penlight and ran swiftly towards the source of that cry, ignoring any thought of danger.
A tense five minutes moving among shipping containers passed with Lois growing more frantic by the second. The fog, rain and darkness were a serious impediment to her progress, but somehow she sensed Clark drawing her to him, guiding her through the maze of containers. But then as Lois scraped her hand against yet another container, she emerged from the maze and flashed her light upon Clark lay motionless on the sleek ground. Her heart broke at the sight. Off in the distance, Lucky Leon and Cameron Axelrod had their backs to him as they strained to carry a large black crate to the end of Pier Eighteen.
Fear at seeing the man she loved lying helpless motivated her into action. Murderous thoughts of vengeance against these two men for endangering him so callously raced through her mind. Pulling the briefcase over her shoulder Lois ran silently behind Cameron Axelrod, lifted the heavy bag over his head and slammed it down with all her might. The man crumbled and fell wordlessly to the ground, dropping his end of the crate. Lucky Leon howled in agony as the crate landed on his foot with a sickening noise of crushed bone. He too fell, but not as soundlessly.
The reporter spun her back on the criminals and ran towards Clark. She quickly located the kryptonite vial, capped it and placed it in her now battered briefcase. <Maybe Dr. Klein can search for an antidote to this vile mineral.> she mused.
Kneeling down beside Clark, she began to shake him. “Superman, wake up. It’s me Lois. The kryptonite can’t hurt you anymore.”
L…Lois, why did you risk your life? Cameron might have killed you.” He groaned, trying to sit up.
“Because, you big lunkhead,” she whispered wrapping her arms around him while gazing at his handsome, but deathly pale face through tears. “What are partners for?”
Suddenly, a crisp and commanding male voice using a megaphone could be heard through the thick gloom, “This is the military you are surrounded keep your hands where we can see them.”
“Uh, it sounds like Captain Maynard of Special Ops is here.” Clark whispered.
“Yeah, the calvary has finally arrived!” Lois responded acidly.
