Rules of War
Folc4evernaday
Chapter 11a
A/N: This chapter ended up longer than I anticipated so it was split into two parts. Part B will be posted on Thursday. Sorry it’s been so long since the last chapter. Kerth Planning and RL took over there for a bit. One more chapter and an epilogue after this. Thanks to everyone for following this story (and the series through). A lot of action to come and Chapter 12 is soon to follow.
Thanks all!
***
The long black town car pulled up to the corner where a young woman with short blonde hair stood, clutching her black trenchcoat around herself. The window in the backseat of the town car lowered and Bill Church Jr. leaned out the window to speak to the woman, “Dr. Kelly, I take it the program was a success?”
Gretchen Kelly smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Metallo is the perfect weapon completely under Intergang’s control.”
The door opened, and she climbed into the back of the town car. She checked her reflection in the mirror as the apartment building disappeared behind her. A loud blast could be heard behind them, and she smiled back at Bill Church Jr. “Metallo’s target has been annihilated.”
A smile crossed Bill Chruch Jr's face, and he took a puff from his cigar, “I’ll be sure to keep Carmine updated on the progress.”
“Once we determine how to replicate the Kryptonite ring with the red meteorite, we should be able to replicate the process on demand.”
Bill Church Jr took another puff from his cigar, “Replicating an army of cyborgs to do Intergang’s bidding and permanently stomp Superman out of commission.” He let out a low whistle, “Best billion I’ve ever spent.”
***
‘James Olsen must be eliminated.’ The words ran through his mind on a repetitive track as Johnny Corbin struggled to wrestle through the images and memories that haunted him. A fight with Superman. A car chase. A metal table. They all conjoined together to create memories that made no sense.
“Jimmy!”
Johnny Corbin turned to see Lucy Lane in tears as she watched his target –her boyfriend—James Olsen cross the barrier. It would be so easy to take care of all of his problems and let him be terminated with the orders he’d been given. It would be so easy to continue down the path he’d been on. But something stopped him.
“Jimmy!”
His heart lurched as he heard the cries from Lucy Lane. At the last second, he changed the frequency and attempted to disable the bomb from the remote in his hand that was programmed to communicate with his internal system.
A loud blast erupted from the apartment building, and he swallowed hard, staring at the spot where James Olsen had been standing. He was too late….or was he?
***
“Jimmy!”
A soft cry from the top stairs. The shouts from the police. A loud crash. It all melded into one as Lucy stared at the agonizing image of Jimmy falling from the top step with flames Lucy Lane was sure would consume him in seconds behind him. Then just when she thought all hope was lost the world around her slowed down and within a blink of an eye, Jimmy was standing beside her.
Before he could say a word, she flung her arms around him, tearfully scolding him, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, James Olsen!”
“I’m okay, Luce,” Jimmy reassured her, running a hand across her cheek.
She should be relieved right now, but all she could feel was the panic still running through her. She glanced back toward the building that was in ruins and turned back to him, “You were…” she felt her voice waver as she swallowed hard. “Now you’re…”
“I don’t know,” Jimmy said glancing toward the burning steps leading up to his apartment building.
***
“Hi,” Clark responded as he moved through the living room with an uneven saunter toward Lois. A million thoughts ran through her mind as she watched him struggle to remain upright, catching himself on the couch and straightening up to finish crossing the room.
Unable to hold back on the emotions that were flooding through her any longer, Lois crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, “Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”
He seemed surprised, crinkling his forehead as he shrugged his shoulders, “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine,”
“Fine?” She scoffed in disbelief, reaching over to grab a copy of the Daily Planet’s evening edition as she slapped it across his chest, “Superman Declared Enemy Of The United States.” She read the headline, arching an eyebrow at him. “That’s fine?”
“Luthor belongs behind bars,” he shrugged his shoulders as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to bypass the judicial system and kidnap the current Vice President.
“You can’t just drop him in prison because you feel like it, Clark,” she countered, taking a step toward him. “You know this! What is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” he let out a deep sigh, “I just got tired of waiting for more people to get hurt. I took things into my own hands. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” she argued, shaking her head. “It’s a very big deal. You’re Superman…or supposed to be rather.”
“Maybe Superman doesn’t want to wait for the inevitable to happen,” he said with a defeated sigh.
“Superman upholds the judicial system,” Lois reminded him, feeling her voice tremble as she spoke. Something was definitely amiss with him. He wasn’t talking like himself or acting like himself. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he was drunk.
“Not when a known criminal is behind the crooked laws of the judicial system,” Clark snorted, sinking himself down onto the couch.
Lois bit her lip, feeling a wave of apprehension hit her as she stared back at him. Talking about his kidnapping of Lex Luthor seemed to only bring out aggravation and annoyance. She needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with him. Though she wouldn’t let the issue drop completely she supposed a change of subject wouldn’t hurt. Maybe find out where Clark had been for the last five hours.
“Fine,” Lois shrugged her shoulders, “How did the rescue go?”
His face crinkled and confusion filled his eyes as he echoed, “Rescue?”
Lois did her best to control her reaction at the confused expression on her husband’s face. “The rescue you left for this morning.” She held her breath, watching the uneasiness wash over him. It was clear he was trying to process everything. Did he sense something was wrong?
She took a seat next to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, explaining calmly the events leading up to his departure this morning. “This morning we were talking to Mayson about the double of Bill Henderson and the who had access to Professor Hamilton’s cloning research. You got a call for help…”
“I don’t remember,” he frowned.
‘He doesn’t remember?’ her mind screamed as she did her best to control the panic that was rising within her. ‘Five hours…’
His face tensed and he ran a hand across it as he leaned his head toward her. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
She felt her shoulders relax against him, sensing the remorse behind his words as he looked back at her.
‘Five hours.’ “I’m sorry.” Clark ran a hand across her cheek.
“It’s okay,” she responded, knowing deep inside her that it definitely wasn’t okay. Something was seriously wrong here but figuring out what that remained a mystery. All she had to go on was what he remembered and what was reported by the news. With his memory faulty at best the only thing she could think to do was try and keep him here home with her to prevent any further incidents.
She reached her hand over and patted his knee just as he tilted his head, capturing her lips with his. A flutter palpitated inside her abdomen and she let out a soft moan, a mixture of relief and anguish filling her mind as she leaned back against the couch, enjoying the solace of her husband’s arms.
***
Bruce gripped the side of his head as he hobbled his way through the long corridor of WayneTech with the help of Lucius Fox. He gritted his teeth as he made his way around the corner. “I never knew I had so many bones and tendons that could feel pain…”
“Well, when you try to take on a God…” Lucius gave him a disapproving look as they inched toward the executive chair at Bruce’s desk. “Are you sure you won’t be more comfortable in the penthouse?”
“No,” Bruce remarked, sinking into the chair cautiously. “I’ll be…fine.” He glanced toward the double doors leading to Dr. Snow’s laboratory. “Any progress?”
“I've been preoccupied, sir,” Lucius responded with a raised eyebrow.
Bruce held his hand to his side, cradling the ribcage he was sure was cracked as he let out a muffled groan, acknowledging just what Lucius had been preoccupied with. The behavior exhibited by Superman had been bizarre and entirely out of character. He prided himself on being an accurate judge of character. Risky behavior that went against the judicial system Superman claimed to uphold, and aggressive actions were not attributes anyone would associate with Superman.
“Something’s wrong here, Lucius,” Bruce commented carefully.
“How many cracked ribs did it take for you to figure that one out, Master Wayne?” Lucius responded with a frown, handing him an ice pack.
Bruce cracked a smile at Lucius, ready to retort. Lucius was never one to talk around an issue. He had warned Bruce of the risk he was taking in engaging the Man of Steel, but Bruce had been convinced he knew who and what he was dealing with. Now he wasn’t so sure.
“Mr. Wayne?” The loud crackle from the speaker on Bruce’s desk echoed in the large office, and his secretary’s voice came over the speaker, “I have a Mr. Wells here to see you.”
“Professor Wells,” Bruce heard Harrington Wells’ voice through the speaker.
He let out a light chuckle and turned back to Lucius, “We’ll finish this later.”
***
It would be so easy to forget about the last twenty-four hours. The chaos that had ensued from the impromptu visit from Lex. The bizarre behavior of Clark. His disappearing act. It would be so easy to forget all of it and focus on the overwhelming emotions that threatened to overtake Lois.
It was easy to forget how out of character he’d been acting moments ago.
It was easy to forget the last twenty-four hours.
But she couldn’t, could she?
<<“This isn’t like Clark. There’s got to be something else going on that we’re not seeing.”>>
‘He’s not himself,’ her mind screamed at her as Lois fought the rampant desires that were coursing through her. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in her husband’s arms and forget everything.
<<“It would be wise to remember who it is you’re dealing with, Lois…I could destroy everything you hold dear with the swipe of a pen.”>> How could she do that?
“Clark…” Lois called out, pulling away from him and readjusting the front of her dress from where he’d begun loosening the buttons. It took him a moment to register the lack of contact. His head turned to look at her with a lazy expression and an unspoken question in his eyes.
“How are you feeling?” She asked tentatively, toying with the hem of his cotton t-shirt. She could feel the warmth of his breath against the nape of her neck as he leaned closer.
“Content,” He whispered as he nibbled on her ear, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth.
Lois chuckled, uncertain how to react to his chosen word. He was now public enemy number one, yet he felt content. She ran her hands up and down his chest, “Clark, there’s something…going on here.” She let out a deep sigh as his breath teased the nape of her neck. “The memory loss and…Oh, God, that’s not fair.”
“Nuh-uh,” He shook his head and insisted. “I’m fine.” Before she could argue any further, he captured her mouth with his, allowing her to taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue. He stroked her cheek with his palm and traced the frame of her face.
She slowly broke off the kiss, leaning back as she eyed him appreciatively. It was quite entertaining to see him like this.
The sloppy grin on his face remained as he let out a long breath, “I’m hot.” He jerked at the hem of his shirt in an effort to pull it off and ended up tangled in the mess of cotton. She laughed, taking pity on him as she helped him shed the garment from his limbs, tossing it to the floor. He sighed, leaning back against her, slipping his hands up her back.
“Uhm, hmm,” She breathed against his lips, eying his perfectly chiseled six-pack and hardened muscular chest smooth as a baby’s bottom. She fingered his chest, brushing her hand against the velvety smooth skin as she took his glasses off, folding them in one hand, leaning behind her to place them on the table next to her just before he recaptured her lips.
<<“Any idea where that husband of yours disappeared to?”>>
<<“This isn’t like Clark. There’s got to be something else going on that we’re not seeing.”
“Like what? You saw the footage just like I did. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t …”>>She felt her body involuntarily stiffen against him. His hand moved up and down the side of her face as he moved his attention to her jawline, feathering light kisses along its path. “Cla…” She attempted to make her voice heard, “You’re not yourself.” Her hand wrapped around his shoulders, feeling the hardened muscles beneath his velvety smooth skin.
“So what if I’m not?” he challenged with an arched eyebrow.
She felt his hand slip below the hem of her dress and whispered, “We should stop.”
“Why?”
She laughed, leaning closer to him, “You’re not yourself, Clark.”
“So?” He whispered, huskily, stroking her cheek. “You’re beautiful you know that…”
“Smooth talker,” She observed, fingering the tip of his nose with her forefinger, “I don’t….” His mouth found its way to her throat, creating a heated trail downward as she struggled to string her thoughts together. “Cla…”
“You feel so good.” He whispered, holding her close.
“So do you.” She sighed, running her hands through his dark locks.
“I love you,” He whispered, stroking her jawline.
“I love you too, but right now… you need to get some rest…” She whispered.
“I don’t want to rest.” He argued, stroking her cheek as he leaned in to press his lips against hers, tracing the outline of her lips with the tip of his tongue,. She moaned against him, allowing him to pull her into his arms. “This is so much better than resting…”
“Clark..” She gasped as he moved his attention to her right ear, tugging on the lobe with his lips. “We need to stop…”
“Do you want to stop?” He asked, slipping his hand up the hem of her dress, brushing his palm against her upper thigh.
She could lie and say she did, but she knew that was a moot point. He could tell when she was lying. She let out a short gasp, “No, but I don’t want to take advantage of you…wouldn’t be…”
“Maybe I want to be taken advantage of.” He whispered huskily. To prove his point, he pressed his hips against hers. “I am in my …
very right mind…” He reassured her.
The last of her resolve gave away, and the room began to spin as she felt his hands move up her body, tracing a circular pattern against her. She could continue to try and argue her point with him but what good would that do? She knew he wasn’t in his right mind, but he knew it too. It wasn’t like he was behaving any differently than he would. At least this way she knew where he was and could ensure he wasn’t doing anything to further damage Superman’s reputation.
***
Yellow and red. That’s all Zymack could see as he stared at the wall of bodies linking the concrete slabbed walls. An ominous glow of pale yellow emitted from the lifesize incubators that appeared to be housing men and women of different sizes and shapes.
Mike jabbed Zymack in the ribs as he looked around the room, “What in the name of Christ…?”
“You’re asking the wrong detective,” Zymack muttered under his breath.
“Hey, guys, there’s a stairwell!” one of the officers called out from across the room, pointing to the cement steps and metal door.
Zymack looked to Mike, wondering if he should get his hopes up just go. Mike patted his shoulder, “Come on, let’s check it out.”
***
Dr. Caitlin Snow looked up from her notepad, then glanced at the time. It had been twelve hours since she had begun reviewing Bill Henderson’s file. Over the last few hours, she had run blood tests and cognitive tests to determine her patient’s cause of amnesia. Using the lab and tools that had been given to her with free reign from Bruce Wayne she began trying to stimulate the missing memories with an interactive game coupled with putting her patient in a hypnotic state.
“Dark,” Bill Henderson mumbled with a croak in his tone as he let out a short gasp.
“What’s dark?” Caitlin asked curiously, setting her pen down.
“Tunnels are so dark.” He whispered in a monotone voice. “It’s so tight.” He reached his hand up to grab his throat.
“What’s tight, Bill?” Caitlin asked.
“The elevator shaft.” He whispered out before uttering, “Our escape.”
“Our?” Caitlin pressed.
“Zymack. Me. The SWAT Team.” Came his response before his face scrunched up. “So tight.”
Deciding he’d been under long enough, Caitlin nodded, “Bill, you’re not in the tunnel anymore. Now, listen to me. When I snap my fingers, you’re going to be back here in the present and remember everything.” She instructed, holding her hand up to snap her fingers.
A soft snap came, and his eyes changed from the glossed-over expression to active as he stared back at her. “Zymack,” he whispered aloud. He looked up at her with a smirk, “I’m telling you you’re wasting your time. I can’t be hypnotized.” A faraway expression crossed his face, and she smiled to herself.
“You remember something?” Caitlin asked, waiting for him to respond.
“Yeah,” he ran a hand across his face. “I gotta get out of here.”
***
“Oh, God!” Zymack let out a loud gag as soon as the door opened. The putrid smells from the sewer took over his senses as he lifted his arm to protect his face from the foul scents.
“After you!” Mike let out a muffled grunt.
“How desperate do we got to be to walk through this?” Zymack muttered from behind his sleeve.
“If it gets us back to the land of the living, I’m all for it,” Mike responded, following him through the dark sewer tunnels that would hopefully lead them above ground.
***
<<“Angel... where'd you go? I gotta get to a hospital.”
“Don't worry John. I called a couple of doctors I heard about.”>> The sliding glass doors slid open, and Johnny Corbin stepped inside, on instinct moving through the corridors, recalling the turns inside the rundown laboratory he had been holed up in with Dr. Gretchen Kelly.
<<“Metallo.”>>
<<“Cyborg!”>>
<<“…robot…”>>The memories clouded his mind as he recalled the names that had been used to describe him. Everything but his name. Johnny Corbin. It was a simple thing. Being known as the man, he was. A sour expression crossed his face as he swallowed the bitter bile.
Man. Was he even a man? A machine powered being that couldn’t feel warmth. A super-powered robot, programmed to do the bidding of someone he couldn’t say he trusted. Still, he didn’t dare cross her for fear he would lose the semblance of reality he had regained. So, here he was, roaming the corridors and making his way into the lion’s den.
<<“Metallo?”
“I guess I got lost,”
“Come now, there are some people we want you to meet. We have a lot to talk about.”>> The door at the end of the corridor was ajar, dimly lit with a lamp in the corner. Corbin mentally prepared himself as he entered the room, ready to report his mission to Dr. Kelly with the prayer she wouldn’t push for details.
“The experiment on Superman has proven successful. Better results than we could have hoped for.” The man standing behind the desk remarked, holding a glowing crystal up for closer examination.
Dr. Kelly leaned in, entranced by the illuminating stone as a red hue emitted from it and danced across her face. “I’ve passed your findings off to our team.”
<<“I thought I was helping you!”>>
<<“You’re hurting me!”>> “With this new weapon against Superman Intergang will be unstoppable.” The other man standing to the left of her spoke up, tapping his hand on the desk.
“Superman controlled by a rock that doesn’t cripple him.” Dr. Kelly mused. “Who would have thought?”
<<“You should have kicked it the first time, John!”>>
The first man looked up, catching sight of Corbin, “Metallo, I trust your mission was successful?”
Before he could think too hard about what he was saying, Corbin found himself offering up a confirmation, “The mission has been completed.”
“Excellent,” Dr. Kelly responded before turning back to the two gentlemen, “And you two were worried. See, I knew he wouldn’t let us down.”
“I’ll pass along the word,” the first man said with a nod.
<<“What am I?!”
“Well, actually you're a... robot...”
“Cyborg!”>> ***
Ralph walked through the abandoned train station just on the outskirts of town. It had a whimsical charm about it that made him think of stories like the Great Gatsby or Catcher in the Rye. Nostalgia filled tales that transported you to a time and place where things were a little less complicated and enough years had passed to color the past with rose-tinted glasses.
Great stories came out of places like this, and that was what he was here for. The story. More and more reports had come in with sightings of this mysterious savior that remained nameless and faceless. He was going to be the one to report on this story.
While the others were distracted with the story of Superman’s reckless behavior and the politics of Lex Luthor he would find this new hero that had quietly begun protecting Metropolis and make his mark at the Daily Planet.
He walked through the terminal where he found a rusted forklift with an open crate hanging from the fork. Ralph moved closer, recalling the woman’s tale of being rescued from a crate by the savior. As he inched closer, a chill ran through him, feeling a sense of dread wash over him.
He stopped, taking note of the crate waving in the wind. He felt an uneasy feeling wash over him as he stared at the empty crate swaying from side to side. The nostalgic beauty of the place began to fade as he noted the sinister scene in front of him.
He looked away, uneasiness washing over him as he stood a few feet away from the rusted forklift. He moved his gaze to the wooden planks of the terminal he was standing on. Dust covered the plank boards. Much of it hadn’t been disturbed in years it seemed—with the exception of the area around the forklift where it appeared a small group of people had walked across one another’s footprints. There he expected to see the dust shuffled around.
He didn’t expect to see it shuffled up on the edge of the terminal steps. He frowned, approaching the spot where the dust had been moved, hoping for some clue that would point him to the savior that he was searching for. His frown fell as he approached, seeing obvious boot prints in the dust and a frayed fiber sticking out from the aged wood. As carefully as he could, he reached down to grab it, uncertain just what it was he’d discovered. As he held it up in the moonlit sky the reality of what he’d found began to set in. There in his hands was a bright red fiber he was certain belonged to a certain superhero.
“Bingo.”
***
Superman Declared Enemy of The United StatesThe headline across the Daily Planet’s front page was the thing of dreams. Lex wore a broad smile as he traipsed around his hotel suite. Not only had he grabbed the gauntlet of unbridled power and assured his placement as Vice President would stay long enough for him to arrange for the president’s devastating death. He had also been granted a window of chance by using Falcone’s testing on Superman to his advantage and had the once celebrated hero deemed a traitor.
He swirled the bourbon inside his glass, taking a sip of it and savoring the taste. Though it was the finest bourbon money could buy it wasn’t nearly as sweet as the revenge he had finally been awarded. Unbridled power was finally at his fingertips, and the once beloved superhero was now public enemy number one. Even in his first musings of forming the plans to reclaim his power with Falcone he'd never dreamed of such an incredible twist of fate. To have the once adored hero reduced to a criminal, destined to a life behind bars that Lex himself found himself in just a few short months ago.
“A twist of fate indeed,” he mused aloud to himself.
Superman would soon be forced to reap what he sowed and face the justice system he had defended so righteously. A smile spread across his face as he imagined the superhero forced to live among the criminals he helped put away. The timing of everything had been perfect. The inconvenience of being thrust among lowly criminals by Superman while Falcone’s Dr. Strange tested this new form of Kryptonite had been worth it. More so, given that the fates at work had solidified his position as Vice President and given the world a glimpse of just how corrupt their hero was.
Soon he would reclaim everything Superman had taken from him. Some things, however, would require more persuasion and finesse than others. His mind drifted to the current predicament with Lois Lane. Stubbornness and willfulness had been traits that had drawn him to her in the first place. That and the soft spot he recognized Superman to have for her made it impossible for him to turn his back on what had been offered up to him. The opportunity to take what the hero obviously so desperately sought but for whatever reason couldn’t have was too tempting.
Reclaiming Lois Lane would serve as retribution and a satisfying win on his part. The thrill of taking her as his from both Clark Kent—the giblet that had been a thorn in his side for too long —and Superman would solidify the last step in his revenge. His life had been in ruins thanks to those two. He would ensure a victory for himself and go down in history as the most powerful being this world had ever seen. Nothing would stop him. Especially not some God in a cape or a pesky thing like the rights of the people.
A light chuckle escaped his lips. It would be only a matter of time until the latest change would take place and the independent Lois Lane would be reminded of just how powerless she truly was without him, she would come running back.
“Just a setback,” he reminded himself. “A minor setback.”
***
“Harrison,” Bruce remarked looking at his colleague uneasily. “This is a surprise.”
“Is it?” Harrison mused, looking at Bruce with a thoughtful expression, “Dr. Klein mentioned your request for a patient’s files.”
Bruce immediately began wracking his brain for a plausible reason for his request for Superman’s medical files. He had hoped the conversation regarding Dr. Klein’s records on Superman could have been kept private, but it was too late to worry about that now. All that was left was damage control.
Harrison thankfully didn’t seem too interested in pressing him for more information at the moment as he paced in front of him with a saunter, “I told him I would evaluate the situation for him.”
“I see,” Bruce responded carefully.
Harrison’s expression grew concerned as he stopped in front of Bruce, squaring his shoulders as he added, “And assess your involvement with my lead neuroscience researcher. Dr. Caitlin Snow?”
Harrison Wells was one of the most well-known names in the scientific community. He had established STAR Labs in Central City and brought together the brightest minds to build the particle accelerator that in one night made him the most well-known man in the world. The double edge sword that came with that new standing soon followed when the accelerator exploded and riddled the city with what was now being called metahumans.
“You have to understand my concern, Mr. Wayne,” Wells remarked calmly, looking up at him. “Dr. Caitlin Snow is an important part of my team and when you whisk her off to do God knows what without cluing me in I…”
“God knows what?” Bruce chuckled back. “What exactly do you think it is I’m doing, Harrison?”
The calm demeanor fell from Harrison’s face, and he narrowed his gaze at Bruce, “You do have a reputation, Mr. Wayne.”
“And it’s your job to what? Babysit your staff to make sure what?” Bruce argued, uncertain he wanted the answer.
Quick to deflect, Harrison cut in, “STAR Labs’ reputation is underfire, and I can’t afford another scandal.”
“And whose fault is that, Harrison?” Bruce argued, shaking his head. “You and your stubborn dreams of going big or going home cost millions in litigations for STAR Labs. Ten years down the drain. You make the data breach Harley Quinn pulled off look like child’s play.”
“You and I both know that data breach wasn’t just in Metropolis,” Harrison responded with a narrowed gaze.
“Gotham is being investigated along with Metropolis and Central City,” Bruce replied calmly.
“And the cloning project?” Wells pressed.
“What about it?” Bruce asked uneasily. “Hamilton’s research was securely transferred through the proper channels.”
“That’s not what my sources say, Mr. Wayne,” Wells retorted with an arrogant boasting. “From what I hear your security detail in Metropolis could have been funneling the information to someone outside STAR Labs. Now, why would they do that?” Wells sized Bruce’s lack of response up and added, “Perhaps you should find out, hmm?”
***
<<“Superman, stand down!”
“Where is Luthor?!”>>
<<“I can’t go anywhere these days without you showing up.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You made yourself a wanted fugitive for what? Revenge!”>>
<<“Luthor’s been taken care of.”
“Yeah, great justice system there...You’d fit right in with the loonies in Arkham, invoking your own brand of justice on the world...You certainly dress like the Joker’s usual crowd of suspects. Is the makeup not in yet, Supes?”
“You don’t want to cross me.”
“Why? You already showed me how big and bad you can be.” >>Jagged memories folded through Clark’s mind as he began to slowly drift to consciousness. The memories pushed their way to the forefront of his mind as he let out a low groan, running a hand across his face. The soft strands of his wife’s hair in his face teased his hand. His eyes flew open, and he looked around the room, trying to assess his surroundings as his mind flooded with memories from the night before.
<<“Superman Declared Enemy Of The United States. That’s fine?”
“Luthor belongs behind bars.”
“You can’t just drop him in prison because you feel like it, Clark. You know this! What is going on with you?”>> Clark let out a low groan, feeling panic course through him as the reality of what he’d done in the last twenty-four hours hit him. Rarely did he feel the effects of the temperature change but in this moment he would guess this is what a drastic temperature change felt like. Goosebumps washed across his body, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Enemy. Those were the words used to describe his alter-ego. His years of working hard to develop a relationship of trust among the city of Metropolis and the entire country were lost. In twenty-four hours all the work he’d done had been obliterated with a single action.
Enemy.
Nemesis.
Foe.
Adversary.
He took a heavy breath, trying to squash the prickling within his dry throat. Images from the day before continued to flood through his mind. Impulses he had buried deep inside had made their way to the surface, and now he was forced to face the fallout from those decisions.
<<“I just got tired of waiting for more people to get hurt. I took things into my own hands. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. It’s a very big deal. You’re Superman…or supposed to be rather.”
“Maybe Superman doesn’t want to wait for the inevitable to happen.”>> Clark swallowed the hard lump in his throat. His fears that had simmered below the surface since the news of Luthor’s return appeared to have bubbled to the surface. What could have caused him to lose control like that?
<<“I’m invulnerable, remember, Brucey?”
“Invulnerable except when Kryptonite is involved, remember?”
“Whatever it is that’s going on with you has affected your mind, Superman…”>>Bruce Wayne was the Batman.
Clark’s eyes fluttered open, recalling the revelation he had uncovered. A pang of guilt washed over him, recalling how he’d discovered the truth. He of all people should have understood the need for privacy, and yet he had been the one to cross the line, revealing his knowledge of Bruce’s secret identity as a trump card.
He ran a tired hand across his face, wondering momentarily if things could get any worse.
“Clark?” a hand ran across his chest, and he let out a heavy sigh.
“What happened?” his voice croaked as the burning question escaped his lips.
***
Step by step brought Zymack and his team closer and closer to freedom. The anguishing over when and where disappeared in one moment. Light. It filled the dark tunnel, and in one instant the despair that seized them all was replaced with hope.
“Great works are performed not by strength but by perseverance.” Mike Rogers quoted as he held out a hand for Zymack to help him up the last step on the ladder, leading to the surface where Mike had helped the handful of other officers through.
“I think we’ve persevered enough to last all of us a lifetime, Mike,” Zymack commented as he climbed past him.
“We made it, Zymack,” Mike commented.
Zymack let out a shaky breath and forced a smile, “I know.” A determined expression crossed his face, and he added, “Now I’ve got to get some answers.”
“Zymack, you don’t even know where Bill is,” Mike called after him.
“I’ve got to try!”
***
The Pentagon was one of the most secure locations in the United States. The headquarters of the United States Department of Defense was the heart of the country’s defense. The most advanced technology and confidential information were located here. Still, it wasn’t without its flaws. The changes in security policies and the turnover on staff were a perfect opportunity for someone to squeeze through if he or she knew what they were doing.
A young red-haired officer blended in with the crowd as she walked through the sterile hallway, keeping herself in cadence with the officers patrolling. Finally, she reached the corridor she was looking for and stopped, turning to address the security desk where a guard was standing at his post.
“Hey, what are you doing, soldier?”
Before the officer could finish his question, his eyes flashed yellow. A smile crossed her face as she reached up to grab the card from his breast pocket, “I believe you have access to something I need.”
“Yes.”
TBC…
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