>>> from the journal of H. G. Wells
I am safe and whole. But I can scarcely credit what has taken place.
Nor am I able to relate it here. It is too painful for me.
My only solace – and it is a thin solace, at that – is that the conflicting potentials for the future of this timeline have now been resolved. This universe will now proceed on its way without further interference from me.
But the cost—
>>>
Doctor Linda Downing listened to the Man of Steel’s report on the young victim he was carrying and snapped her fingers at the admitting nurse. “Get me a gurney, now! Set up Trauma Two for head injury care. Make sure we can get a good X-ray. Give me a plasma infusion until we can type and cross-match.”
“Yes, Doctor!”
As the gurney rolled toward Superman, she ran to his side. “Thank you for getting her here, Superman. We’ll take good care of her. Can you tell me anything else about her?”
He lifted damp eyes to her. “Her name – she’s Lucy Lane. WayneTech employee. Her medical data is in the computer.”
Dr. Downing turned to the admitting nurse. “Did you get that, Karen? Lucy Lane with WayneTech!”
“Got it. I’ll send her profile to Trauma Two.”
She turned back to her patient. “Okay, let’s get her loaded. You can put her down now, Superman.”
The only move he made was to look at the girl’s face again. “I – Lucy? Lucy, please don’t die. Please!”
Linda had seen this reaction many times, just not from the Man of Steel. The thought that Superman had a girlfriend – especially one who was so gravely injured – stunned her and made her feel slightly sad.
She put her hand on his elbow and pressed lightly. “Superman? Please put her down now. We’ll take good care of her. Okay? Can you put her down on the gurney?” She shook him ever so slightly. “I can’t treat her as long as you’re holding her, Superman. You need to let us do our jobs.”
He slowly looked at Linda again. “I – please help her.” One tear ran down his cheek. “Please?”
“We’ll do our best, just like we always do. But you have to let go of her first.”
He shuddered and closed his eyes, then opened them and laid her gently on the gurney. As the nurses wheeled her down the short hallway, he stammered, “Can I – can I wait – with her?”
“You know it’s best if you stay here. I promise that I’ll let you know as soon as I know anything. Okay?”
He sniffed once and straightened. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.”
Still holding his elbow, she asked, “Was there anyone else injured?”
He shook his head. “No. just the one – the one victim.”
“Good. Now you just sit over here – or you can stand right where you are if you’d rather. Is there anyone who needs to be notified?”
The light came back into his eyes and he pulled a cell phone out of a pouch on his belt. “Yes. Can I make a couple of calls from here or do I need to go outside?”
“Right here is fine as long as you don’t get any closer to the machines than you are now. We’ll report this to the police and let them know when she’s stable.”
His eyes hardened. “I’ll call them. This is something they need to know about right now.”
*****
Lois stared at Lester. “You – I thought you were dead!”
Lester smiled and shook his head. “That’s what I thought about you for a couple of years, too, but then I started hearing rumors about Rodolfo’s greatest achievement and I figured it was Carla. The woman who never missed, who always completed her assignments, whose name struck fear into the hearts of police and targets alike. But it was you all the time, wasn’t it?” He laughed. “Shoulda known. Carla would’ve bought radio time to announce that she was the big shot.”
She came down the ramp. For an instant, she remembered that it was once a short flight of steps. “I guess so. What are you doing here?”
He chuckled. “Same old Lois, direct and to the point.”
“Lester,” she growled, “why are you here?”
He nodded his head toward the other three people in the room. “Got a job.”
Lois slowed her approach. “Are you my backup?”
Lester’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think so. It’s not like you need it, do you? Anyway, I’m here for the rich guy.”
Dominique suddenly demanded, “Which rich guy?”
Lois scowled at her. “Shut up, Brown Sugar. You’re not a target.” She turned back to Lester. “She did ask a good question, though. Which rich guy?”
Lester shrugged and pointed with the Glock. “Luthor. Who’s your assignment?”
“It’s me, isn’t it?” James grunted.
Lois sighed. “Yeah. It’s you.”
“You started that almost-riot on the loading dock, too, didn’t you?”
“Not me personally, no, but it was part of the plan. It was supposed to divide your focus and let me sneak in closer.”
“Well, it worked.” James put his hands on his hips. “Why me? Who wants me dead?”
“I don’t know why or who. I never do. I just get the dossier and a time frame.”
“Same here,” offered Lester. “We’re just doing a job, okay? This isn’t personal. Right, Lois?”
“Yeah. It’s just business.”
“Okay, Lois. It’s time. You want to go first or should I?”
“What!” snapped Dominique. “Just like that?”
“Just like that, kaffir. We’re professionals. It’s our job.” Lester turned to Lois. “Well? You or me first? And who gets the porch monkey?”
Lois hesitated. If she killed James Olsen, she’d never see her children again and she’d probably spend the rest of her life in one prison or another, assuming she wasn’t executed. If she let Lester take out Luthor, the same thing would happen.
Dominique’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Why didn’t you shoot him when you first got to Metropolis, Lois?”
“Are you complaining about my timing?”
Lois noticed the black woman shift her feet to bring her a little closer. “No. I just don’t know why you’d pass up the chance to kill him then and come to do the job now. You didn’t know the guy with the smarmy grin was going to be here.”
“Hey!” Lester said. “That hurts my feelings.”
Lois ignored him and reached behind her for her pistol. “No, I didn’t. Olsen was supposed to be in Brussels in a few days and I was going to meet him there.”
Dominique looked at James and frowned. “That trip was supposed to be secret. I didn’t tell anyone about it.”
James shook his head. “Neither did I. I guess someone in Belgium really doesn’t like me.”
Lois checked her weapon. “Sounds reasonable. But then, I actually didn’t come to the newsroom today to kill Olsen.”
That got a reaction from all four of the others. James squished his face in thought and said, “Then why are you here if not to kill me?”
“My boss wants some financial information from you first. I was going to try to wheedle it out of you, but Lester kind of stole my thunder. Hey, Lester, how’d your get here anyway?”
Lester shrugged and waved his hand toward his intended target. “Mr. Luthor wouldn’t come to Belgium, so I snuck in over the Canadian border and found him in his office here in Metropolis. I followed my target here on foot. You know, Luthor, you almost lost me in the subway. That was pretty sharp for an amateur. But going aboveground on foot, unarmed and with no backup, was stupid.”
Lois watched Luthor’s face as Lester berated him. Something was wrong with Luthor’s reaction, though, as if he knew something the rest of them didn’t—
Luthor wasn’t stupid.
He did have backup.
Lois lifted her weapon and spun to cover the stairway just as a tall white-haired man burst through the door with a pistol in his hand. She pulled the trigger twice and hit the man in the middle of the chest with both rounds, but just before she released her shots she saw him fire once. That was the only time he discharged his weapon, however, because his pistol fell from his limp fingers and bounced away as he dropped to the floor in a heap.
She did a quick mental check to make sure she hadn’t been hit. As she stepped toward the white-haired man to make sure her target would stay down, she heard someone behind her fall against a desk.
*****
Mayson had stayed a floor below the white-haired man creeping up the stairs until he stopped outside the newsroom. The small box he was carrying – which looked like an old transistor radio, complete with earphone – ended up on the floor away from the door. She remembered that he was one of Lex Luthor’s inner circle but couldn’t recall his name.
The man slowly drew a semiautomatic pistol from under his jacket and checked the magazine and the chamber. He threw open the door and charged through it and she heard three quick shots fired. She yanked out her cell phone with one hand and her service weapon with the other, then dialed 9-1-1 and reported gunfire in the Daily Planet building.
As she was speaking, two more shots rang out almost as one. They didn’t sound like they’d come from the same weapon. She crept to the stairwell door and risked a quick glance through the reinforced glass. She saw a middle-aged man in an expensive suit with his hands in the air and Lois Lane holding a pistol at the ready, both standing halfway across the room. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but she thought that another man, younger and shorter than the first man, was kneeling over a second woman lying limp on the floor. Between the two groups, a third man lay slumped against a desk, a fast-spreading stain darkening his shirt.
A quick check of the box on the floor told her it was some kind of directional locator. A medium-pitched tone was barely audible through the small earpiece.
She slid back to the stairs and knelt halfway down the flight for cover in case someone decided to shoot in her direction. Her thumb dialed Bill Henderson’s cell phone almost of its own accord.
“Mayson! Where the—”
“Daily Planet stairwell just below the news floor,” she said quietly. “Shots fired, at least two casualties.”
“Did you shoot anyone?”
“No. I just got here, haven’t fired my weapon.”
“Stay where you are! I’m pulling up outside the Planet building now. There’s a whole bunch of people milling around on the sidewalk – hold on, the precinct is calling me.”
Mayson grimaced but didn’t make any noise. She waited while Bill listened to the call.
Twenty seconds and two hours later he came back on the line. “There’s a nutjob up there with a gun and he’s threatening Lex Luthor, James Olsen, and Dominique Cox. Stay put. I’m coming up the stairs.”
“Lois Lane is in there too.”
Bill paused, then said, “I’m not too surprised. Superman got her kids back from her boss and—”
“What? What kids?”
“Just listen and I’ll tell you what little I know! Hold it.”
She heard him call out to the Planet’s security chief and identify himself, then tell the man to evacuate the lower floors and tell anybody in the upper floors to lock themselves in an office or a conference room with a solid door. She heard the man reply that he’d already done that, and that’s when the door below Mayson banged open and a dozen or so panicked people scampered down the stairway in Bill’s direction.
Her phone crackled. “Mayson! Still there?”
“Still here. Bad guys still in the newsroom. You’ve got some bystanders coming down the stairs so hold your badge up. Go ahead.”
“Okay. Superman got Lois’ kids away from her boss and left them with a cop he trusts in Germany. He – yes ma’am, I’m with the police – he also picked up the bad guy boss and took him to some other cops in Messina, Sicily. Somehow he got the Italian government’s okay to arrest the guy, and the Italian national police are sending in a bunch of people to clean out the camps and arrest anybody they don’t have to shoot. Superman came back to Lucy Lane’s apartment to tell Lois the good news and found Lucy on the floor, bleeding from a head wound. He took—”
“What! Lois killed her own sister?”
“No, just clubbed her, probably with a gun butt. Lucy’s in the Metro General emergency room for a head injury and probably a concussion and possible skull fracture and Clark doesn’t want to leave her.”
“So he’s not coming here? We kind of need him, don’t you think?”
Bill’s footsteps scuffed on the stairs as he lunged up to Mayson’s hiding place. They both put away their phones. “This is our baby, Mayson,” he puffed. “He may be Superman, but right now he’s scared of losing someone he cares about a lot and he’s not leaving until she’s out of danger. Besides, nobody’s been brave enough to tell him about this situation yet. He doesn’t know what’s going down.”
She tried not to let her reaction to the news about Clark’s affection for Lucy show in her reply. “Lovely. You called the hospital to get someone to tell him, right?”
“Yes, but even Superman can’t be everywhere at once. And I don’t know when anyone will say anything to him, assuming anyone does.”
“Great,” she muttered. “So it’s all up to us.”
“We can handle it.”
“Yeah.” She nodded once. “How do you want to do this?”
He took two more deep breaths, then said, “You ever shoot anyone?”
She glanced at her pistol and shook her head. “You know I haven’t.”
“Think you can do it if you have to?”
She caught his eyes and saw his concern for her. No – it was more than that. They were partners and friends, but maybe Bill hoped they’d be more. Someday, maybe, but right now was kind of a bad time for that particular conversation.
But how could she be unfaithful to Clark?
She almost giggled with hysteria, then clamped down on her control. Maybe they’d talk about it later. “I think I can if I don’t have another choice. But I won’t really know until I’m actually looking through my sights at someone.”
“That’s probably the best answer you could have given me. Okay, let’s do this. I’ll go first and dive left. You follow and go right.”
She nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
He gave her a quick grin and checked his weapon. “Locked and loaded?”
“Ready for bear.”
“Just remember, this bear shoots back.” He edged up the stairs with Mayson two steps behind. He reached out to grab the doorknob with his left hand, then turned and whispered, “I count one-two-three and we go in on three.”
“Got it.”
“Ready?” She nodded again. “One. Two. Three!”
*****
Clark stood to one side of the waiting area staring at the floor with his arms folded. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life, not even when his parents had died in the car wreck he’d been too young to prevent.
He’d also never been so scared.
He wanted to look through the walls to see how Lucy was doing.
He was too afraid to look through the walls to find out how Lucy was doing.
Head in injuries were unpredictable. He’d rescued enough people with them to know that. Twice over the years he’d pried highway crash victims out of cars who seemed completely lucid, had looked him in the eyes and thanked him, hadn’t displayed any symptoms of injury other than a bloody scalp abrasion, and who had collapsed and died from the trauma within twenty-four hours. He’d also rescued several who looked to be on death’s doorstep but who made complete recoveries within days.
And there had been others. Most had suffered long-term effects. Some of those effects were crippling.
There was no way to predict how Lucy would react to her injury. He wanted – no, he needed to be there for her. No matter what happened, no matter how badly she might be hurt, he had to be there when she woke up.
Assuming, of course, that she did wake up.
A basketball-player-tall, muscular police officer walked in through the automatic doors with his walkie-talkie to his lips. All Clark heard was, “Copy, dispatch. Rose out.”
The man strode past Superman and leaned on the registration desk. “Karen, we’ll probably have some more gunshot victims here soon. There’s a hostage situation at the Daily Planet and shots have already been fired.”
Clark snapped his attention to the officer. “Excuse me, but did you say shots have been fired at the Daily Planet?”
Officer Rose turned and looked down at Superman and blinked. “Huh? Oh, hi. Sorry. Didn’t see you there.”
Clark lowered his eyebrows. “You said, shots fired?”
“Shots – right, right. There’s a guy with a gun holding several people hostage on the news floor. That’s all the info I have right now.”
“Who’s on the scene? Who’s in charge?”
“We don’t have a commander on scene yet. A couple of patrol cars have responded and a SWAT unit has been dispatched.” Rose paused, then said, “You know, if you have some free time, they could probably use you over there.”
Clark froze. Leave Lucy? Without knowing if she was alive? Without knowing that she’d be there when he came back?
Then he licked his lips. “You’re right. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
*****
As the white-haired man lying on the ramp breathed out his last, Lois turned to see who had fallen. All she saw was Dominique Cox diving for the floor in front of Lester, who was sitting on the floor with blood covering the left side of his shirt and wearing a stunned expression on his face.
The white-haired man’s last shot had hit him hard. Lester appeared to be close to death already.
But the black woman wasn’t going to help Lester, she was diving for his Glock.
Lois stepped to her right and lifted her pistol as Dominique rolled away from Lester and came up on one knee with the Glock pointed at Lois’ abdomen. They fired at almost the same moment.
A bullet burned hotly across Lois’ left leg just below her hip. It wasn’t a direct hit, but it still cut a furrow across her skin and into the muscles of the outside of her thigh. All in all, it was a good shot for an untrained civilian using an unfamiliar weapon in a stressful situation. She stumbled against another desk and managed to stay upright.
Lois’ bullet struck Dominique in the lower left side of her stomach, the kind of wound that was invariably fatal in the almost any Western movie Lois had ever seen.
It was often fatal in real life, too.
It was all going wrong.
That idiot Lester had blown everything up. She hadn’t come here to kill anyone. She’d come to wait for Superman to bring back her children. If Lester hadn’t already been shot, Lois would have killed him.
Olsen ran to the wounded woman and knelt over her, then yanked off his jacket and wadded it up to pillow her head. Lois took the opportunity to limp toward him and kick Lester’s Glock out of Olsen’s reach. “It’s okay, Dominique,” he said, “it’s okay, I’m here.”
“I – I tried – sorry – tried to help—”
“Shh. Don’t try to talk. It’s okay. We’ll get you to the hospital.”
“Put direct pressure on the wound,” Lois said.
Olsen’s head snapped around, his face blazing with rage. “Shut up! Get away from her or I’ll kill you myself!”
The intensity of his reaction staggered her and she stumbled back several steps. Luthor lifted his hand and waved it like a first-grader asking to go to the bathroom. “Excuse me, Ms. Lane, but may I assist James? I have some experience with such matters.”
Lois looked at him and nodded, then waved at him with her weapon. She limped over to pick up Lester’s Glock, then moved toward the stairwell.
“Wait,” said Luthor. “Does this mean that you are no longer planning to kill James?”
She stopped, and without turning, she said, “I didn’t come here to kill him. All I wanted to do was get some information from him. Wouldn’t it be stupid to decide to quit the killer’s life and celebrate by killing one more person?”
She heard him take a slow breath, then say, “Have you not done so?”
“I didn’t plan it! I only – never mind. I’m out of here.”
“I see. I cannot stop you if you choose to depart, but I doubt the police will allow you to escape.”
“Not sure I care anymore.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
Instead of answering, Lois decided to depart on that cryptic comment. Always leave them wanting more, she thought. That way they’ll come to the next show.
Except there wouldn’t be a next show.
Tired. She was so very tired. Tired of shooting people and getting shot. Tired of running and hiding and living a fake life. She’d seen too much death and destruction and pain. She couldn’t do it for one more minute. It was past time to stop. Besides, her leg was bleeding and burning and her eyes didn’t want to stay open.
There would be no more contracts, no more kills, no more faces haunting her dreams and her waking hours.
Lucy’s face swam into focus in her mind’s eye.
She’d almost pulled the trigger. She’d almost killed her own sister. But she realized that if she had killed Lucy, Superman would have hunted her down no matter where she might have run. He might have simply captured her and taken her to the police, or flown her to one of the countries who would surely imprison or execute her, or he might have just pulled her head from her shoulders and left the pieces to rot where they fell. In any case, she’d have been without her babies and they’d be without her. She couldn’t take that.
But the biggest reason was that she couldn’t add Lucy’s face to the parade of dead who haunted her in her sleep. Her finger refused to complete the motion to fire her pistol. Smacking Lucy’s head with the butt wasn’t being nice, but she should survive that with no long-term ill effects.
Probably.
She hoped so, anyway.
But she hadn’t been able to kill her sister, not even for her children’s sake.
Thinking about Lucy led her thoughts to Clark. He was a good man, the kind of man she’d decided didn’t exist anymore, assuming they ever had. Even after she’d told him about her children’s dubious ancestry, he hadn’t flinched or changed his mind. He’d still been willing to help her.
If only, she thought. If only she’d come back from the Congo. If only he’d found her soon enough. If only she could have escaped from Rodolfo and made her way back to Metropolis. If only he’d found her before she’d killed Carla. If only—
She shook her head. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. She was what she was and nothing could change that. Superman could never love a murderer.
Lois took one more step toward the stairwell door, then it burst open again and two more people exploded from it.
Her fatigue, her regret for all the death she’d brought, her unspoken sorrow for Dominique’s pain, her own wound, her fear for her children, her guilt over Lucy, her frustration that this whole thing had ended with more people dying, all slowed down her reflexes and made her hesitate half a heartbeat. She didn’t react until the man screamed “Police! Drop your—”
Up snapped both her pistol and Lester’s Glock. She fired one round from each weapon at the man with the glasses, then shifted her aim at the blonde woman sliding across the floor in the other direction. She was sure she’d hit the man at least once. But before Lois could fire again, the blonde woman pulled the trigger on her pistol three times.
The blonde was well-trained. All three bullets hit Lois in the middle of her body.
Both weapons tumbled from her nerveless fingers. Her head sagged toward the outside wall. She fell to her right and hit the floor limp and slack. Then she saw Superman smash through a window. That used to be my desk, she thought, and now he’s got broken glass all over it. I’ll have to speak to him about that.
Then the big strong guy in blue and red – who was really, really fast – flashed past her and picked up Dominique and was gone through the hole he’d made in the wall before the plaster stopped falling. Lois tried to take a breath but couldn’t tell if she was inhaling. She tried to speak but no sound came out.
Then strong and gentle arms lifted her and she felt air rushing past her face.
Superman bent his mouth to her ear and said, “Your children are safe.”
At almost the same moment, she felt herself lowered to a cloth-covered surface. She managed to lift her hand to Clark’s face and touch his cheek. She tried to thank him, but there was no strength for words.
He took her hand and held it for a moment, then put it down beside her uninjured hip. His hand touched her forehead and brushed her hair for a moment. “Get well, Lois,” he said. “It’s what Lucy would want.”
She almost smiled. Then she closed her eyes and slipped into the beckoning darkness.
*****
James and Lex slowly stood from where they’d knelt beside Dominique and raised their hands. Bill Henderson lay on the upper landing of the newsroom floor, groaning. The woman who’d shot Lois lay ten feet from him, her hands gripping her weapon, still pointing it at the place where Lois had been standing.
Lex whispered, “Don’t make any sudden moves, James. The young lady might shoot at us.”
James looked around at Lester, his eyes closed in permanent sleep. The blood had stopped draining from his body, and he looked like a rag doll carelessly tossed into the corner of a closet.
Lex called out, “Excuse me? Officers? Neither of us is armed. We are, in fact, two of the victims here. May we move now?”
Bill sat up and groaned again. “Man, that’s gonna leave a mark. Thank God for Kevlar vests. Yeah, you guys are good to move. I know who you are.” He retrieved his weapon from the floor and holstered it. “Mayson? Mayson! Are you – ow! Are you hurt? Were you hit?”
Her only response was to point her weapon at the ceiling with one hand and cover her face with the other. Then she started crying.
Bill levered himself up off the floor and slowly moved toward her, then took her weapon from her hand. “Mayson? I’m okay. And you did exactly what you needed to do. You did good, honey. You did real good.”
She responded by curling up into a ball and letting out a wail that lifted the tiny hairs on the back of James’ neck. James watched Bill sit down beside her, then gently lift her into his embrace. He held her head against his shoulder and let her sob and cough and howl and shudder.
It had to be a reaction to her shooting Lois. James wanted to do exactly the same thing and he hadn’t fired a shot.
He watched Lex walk to the tall white-haired man on the floor and check his neck for a pulse, then lift one eyelid for a moment. Lex sighed deeply and straightened. “Nigel St. John was a good man. A faithful man. A man who was dedicated to my safety. I am sorry that he died defending me.”
“You make him sound like an Irish Setter.”
Lex turned rheumy eyes to him. “He was also my friend. I have known him for more than fifteen years and I shall miss him greatly.”
“I – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you should not have. But I think you are to be excused, given the circumstances.”
“How did he find you here, anyway?”
Lex pointed at his belt buckle. “This is a very high-frequency radio transponder. Nigel followed the signal to save me.” He clenched his jaw and wiped his eyes. “I am deeply sorry that our friendship cost him his life.”
“But you’re still alive. Sounds to me like he’d rather it be this way instead of him standing there mourning you.”
“You are probably correct in your assessment. Perhaps it will help me later.” Lex took a cautious step toward Bill. “Speaking of the circumstances, perhaps we should inform the police waiting below that the situation has been resolved and there is no immediate danger here.” He stopped turned to James. “And you, I think, should be waiting for a certain young lady to awaken after her surgery.”
Hope tried to blossom in James’ chest. “You mean – you think Dominique will make it?”
“I am not a doctor and therefore I can make no promises, James, but I have seen people survive similar wounds. Your presence will help her to recover faster, if I judge the depth of her feelings for you correctly.”
He almost smiled. “Thank you.”
He looked toward the elevators again and realized that Mayson had almost stopped crying and was just holding on to Bill as if he were her anchor to reality. Her voice broke as she stuttered, “I – Bill, I – I—”
“I know. You did good, May, you did real good. You’re a good cop and you saved my life.”
She squeezed her eyes shut again. James expected her to start weeping again, but she didn’t. But she also didn’t let her partner move away from her.
Bill worked one hand loose and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, then dialed it with one thumb. “Dispatch? This is Bill Henderson at the Daily Planet. We need a coroner here. Yes, two dead. Two others with gunshot wounds, already taken to the hospital by Superman. Oh, you do? Yes, I’ll relay the message. No, everything’s under control now. Yes, the situation has been resolved. We have two unarmed and uninjured witnesses. No, I thought we’d just ignore them and hope they go away on their own. Of course I’ll make sure we get their statements! Right, sorry, just a little emotional here. Sure, no problem. One of the vics in the ER was shot by a police officer. The one with multiple chest wounds. My partner. Right, full report this afternoon. Already have the weapon. No, I didn’t fire, didn’t have the chance. And I don’t think I’d be alive right now if she hadn’t taken the shot. That’s it. We’ll be back at the precinct in about forty minutes. Yeah, make the call to Internal Affairs, but this one’s going to come out clean or I’ll have somebody’s hide on my wall.”
He closed the phone and put it away, then gently stroked Mayson’s hair. “Mayson? Come on, honey, we have to report in. Can you stand?”
Her only reaction was to tighten her grip on Bill’s upper arm. Then, to James’ utter astonishment, the crusty veteran Detective Inspector William Henderson bent his head close to hers and kissed her gently just above the ear. Then he lifted damp eyes to James and said, “Go. Go be with your lady friend.”
James didn’t wait for a second invitation. He walked to the stairwell and trotted down the stairs. He was briefly detained by two officers on the second floor, but Mark Bailey, the Planet’s chief of security, identified James for them and escorted him to the lobby.
They stopped at the security desk. “Mark, are there any cars here that I can use to get to the hospital?”
Mark pointed at a young uniformed Asian woman near the front door. “Officer Marian Hu has been detailed to escort you, Mr. Olsen. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Thanks for everything.” He turned and began trotting toward the front door.
“And tell Mrs. Cox that we’re all rooting for her!” Mark yelled out.
James waved at him as the young officer opened the door for him and pointed at a police cruiser. “She’s in Metro General, sir. I think they took all the victims there.”
He all but jumped into the passenger seat. “Thank you, Officer Hu.”
She started the car and tapped the siren as cars and people opened up in front of her. “When the Chief of Police gives me a personal instruction, sir, I do what he tells me to do.”
“Well. Thank you in any case.”
She glanced at him. “You’re welcome, Mr. Olsen.”
Dominique had to make it, he thought. She just had to.
He hoped the policewoman who’d shot Lois – Mayson something – would recover from the experience and be cleared. If the police needed his viewpoint on the events of today – and surely they would – he’d testify on her behalf.
And even he even hoped that Lois Lane, the woman who had come to Metropolis to kill him, would survive.
Too many people had died today. It was senseless and stupid. They might never know all the reasons why he and Lex had each been targeted, why someone had wanted them dead, why someone had sent uncaring assassins to take their lives and destroy whatever good either man had built up. There was no rhyme or reason to the events of the past few days. He would never understand. It was enough to question his belief that humanity deserved a chance to live and thrive together.
He couldn’t imagine life being any more unfair.
