Injustice Folc4evernaday
Chapter 15: Hear My Voice
“Order up!”
The smell of peppers and freshly fried potatoes hung in the air. Clark glanced over the rim of his glasses, catching a glimpse of Agent Dan Scardino taking a messy bite of his meatball sub as he pulled a file jacket that was worn and torn along the edges. A dribble of dark red and brown stains along the binding.
“Your story on these kidnappings…” Scardino cleared his throat as he unwound the file jacket string and tugged a yellowish sheet of paper out of it and slid it across the table to Lois. “Look familiar?”
Clark craned his neck to glance over Lois’ shoulder to scan the page Scardino had handed her. It was a case summary of a missing girl from five years ago. “What’s the DEA doing investigating kidnappings?” Clark asked, frowning as he skimmed through the page.
Scardino took a sip from his drink and answered, “The Agent on this case had been working undercover to expose a drug ring. She inadvertently stumbled upon something…much bigger.”
Lois pointed to the name on the top corner of the page, “Agent on the case was a J. Blake? Any chance we could speak with her?”
Scardino’s face went pale, tapping at the tabletop as his face twisted and speaking up, “She, uh…Unfortunately, she died on an undercover assignment.”
Lois pursed her lips and tapped her hand against the page in front of them, “Let me guess? This case?”
A sad smile crossed his face, and Scardino nodded, “You, uh, never know when a case is going to become too big for you, you know?” He cleared his throat, pointing to the page in front of them. “Your …. Esma, was it?” His face scrunched up as he pulled out a photo, “Meet Yvonne. Bright, funny, top of her class, and disappeared on her way home from school. No one saw a thing.”
Clark’s jaw tightened, looking at Lois, who nodded, “Sounds familiar.”
Scardino nodded, “Here’s where it gets different, though. Yvonne disappeared and was never heard from again until Jenna…err Agent Blake ran across her on assignment tailing this case. She, uh, endured a lot.”
“This Yvonne, did she make it out?” Lois asked, reaching over to grip Clark’s hand from beneath the table.
Scardino shook his head, “No, she paid with her life for trying to help me.” He grew quiet, “Look, I’ve been chasing this case for almost eight years trying to find these people. Every time I get close, something happens.” His jaw tightened, “I think the same people that kidnapped this girl you’re trying to find are the same people that kidnapped Yvonne and killed Jenna.”
“Well, let’s say you’re right, Agent Scardino,” Clark began cautiously. “Even if these are the same people…I’m not sure what you expect us to do about any of this.” He gestured toward the newsstand across outside. “We’re already taking a lot of heat for daring print this girl’s name. Wouldn’t it be better to turn to the FBI on this?”
“The FBI won’t help,” Scardino scoffed and gestured to himself, “I was a decorated agent and had accolades and dreams before this now I’m just holding on by sure will and defiance until they try to force me out.”
His hand tapped at the table with a bang, “Don’t you find it just a little convenient that these stories keep cropping up every time you print something on this kidnapping…or the corruption to hide it?”
“We’ve received threats,” Clark shrugged his shoulders, still uncertain about the man sitting across from him and how much they could trust him. His story, while moving and heart-wrenching, was convenient. No one was around to help vouch for any of it, though.
“I’ve seen it happen before. It’s only a matter of time until I outlive my usefulness. A top agent was forced into retirement for helping me.” Scardino shook his head in disgust. “And McCord was one of the good guys.
Lois’ brow rose, and Clark glanced over at Scardino again, “McCord?”
“We got caught in a bombing with one of these guys’ movers and shakers, and McCord took the fall,” Scardino explained sadly. “I’ve been chasing this case for years, and everywhere I go, it’s another bureaucratic door slammed in my face because no one wants to talk about what’s happening to these kids.”
“Makes you wonder what they’re trying to hide,” Lois agreed, squeezing Clark’s knee and giving him a silent look, signaling to him to give Scardino a chance.
He relaxed, unfolding his arms and nodded in agreement, “Or who they’re trying to cover for.”
“Look, I’m no one’s prize, I know that,” Scardino grunted out. “But I know this case better than anyone. I’ve been reading your work. You’ve been chasing the same leads and are getting nowhere. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can stop these guys and save these kids.”
“I suppose working together wouldn’t be a terrible idea,” Lois tapped her hand on the file in front of her.
Clark glanced at Lois, nodding his agreement, “No, but just so we’re clear you double-cross us, and that sad little story you offered up will look like a fairy tale when I’m through with you.” Clark’s jaw clenched, and he narrowed his gaze across the table, “I even think you’re in cahoots with these animals and I will string you up by your toenails and unleash a firestorm like you’ve never seen. Got it?”
Lois jabbed him in the side, but Clark didn’t look away, keeping his gaze steady on Scardino. Lois chuckled nervously, “What my…Clark is trying to say here is that…”
“You two are tight with Superman, and I won’t be able to hide if I tried to double-cross you.” Scardino chuckled and then tapped on the table. “Noted.” He blinked, unfazed by the threat as he stared back at Clark, lifting his glass, “Well, now that we’ve got that settled, how about we…move onto the actual case?”
A buzzing sound jumped in Clark’s ear, and he looked down to see Lois’ phone was lit up in her purse. He nudged her gently, and she lifted it, glancing at the screen. “It’s ...”
“It’s me,” Jack called from the doorway, rushing toward them, looking over his shoulder. “I’ve been looking all over for you guys.”
“French Fry?” Lois held out a basket for him as Jack leaned over, slightly flushed with his hands on his knees, knelt over trying to catch his breath.
“I…need a minute,” Jack stammered out.
Lois pointed to him and introduced Jack to Scardino. “Agent Scardino, this is our colleague Jack. He’s been working with us on the case along with his team at HRO.”
“HRO?” Scardino’s brow furrowed, glancing toward Jack curiously.
“Human Rights Organization,” Jack explained, glancing over at Clark, “Th-there’s a ransom.”
“What?” Clark echoed in surprise.
“Ransom?” Lois repeated the word with intrigue.
Jack handed over a notecard he had jotted the message down on. “For the missing girl. Pay it, and she’s free.”
Clark exchanged a look with Lois, who wore the same skeptical look. “I don’t know, Jack. This doesn’t seem right.”
“Look, I can work with HRO to get the funds. We just have to make sure we don’t involve the police, and we’re home free. We have the account information. We have everything we need.”
Scardino shook his head, “No way. These guys don’t do ransom. You pay it, and you’re just funding their operation.”
“Who are you again?” Jack asked.
A badge landed on the table, and Scardino looked to him with a firm introduction, “Dan Scardino. DEA.” He looked at Lois and added, “You want this girl back, don’t pay the ransom. They know they can get money out of you they’ll never let her go.”
“But this is the first lead we’ve had,” Lois argued.
“And why do you think that is?” Scardino asked. “You’re making them nervous.”
“Look, I know it’s not common, but this could be our only chance,” Jack insisted.
“Says who?” Lois shot back irritably. “Your friend Omer? Jack, you said it yourself he seems untrustworthy when it comes to this.”
“He’s our only lead,” Jack argued.
“Omer?” Scardino interrupted, snapping his fingers. “What’s his last name?”
“Demir,” Jack answered. “Why?”
________________________________________
<<“Five thousand dollars as agreed upon.”
“Pleasure doing business with you, Sister Tracy.”>>
<<“No one wants you. I saved you.”>>
<<“The forgotten girl.”>>Ingrid felt her hand tremble as she fiddled with the card in her hand, wondering what her next move should be or even could be. If Omer was here, then there had to be a reason. He didn’t stick around for long unless he was inflicting his torture on another unsuspecting victim.
<<“No one is coming for you. No one even knows you’re missing.”>>________________________________________
Phones were ringing off the hook, and voices were raised as journalists struggled to speak over one another. Lois reached her hand over to take Clark’s hand in hers as they ventured down the ramp and into the pit of the newsroom floor, stopping by her desk to pick up the file box she had left in her bottom drawer.
When the three of them had connected Omer Demir – Jack’s mentor and founder of the HRO – as the same man Dan Scardino was after in connection with the sex-trafficking ring Scardino was in pursuit of Jack had stormed off. Jack was unwilling to indulge the angle they were trying to pursue; however, she and Clark hoped he would come around soon and help them. They both understood he needed time to process the bombshell that had been dropped in his lap. The more they discussed and compared notes with Dan Scardino, the more convinced she was that Omer Demir was involved in the kidnappings.
Jimmy walked up to them excitedly, grinning from ear to ear, “Boy, you guys certainly like to keep things interesting, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Clark asked, helping to pull the file box out of its snug location in her bottom drawer.
“The defamation suit,” Jimmy raised his eyebrows at them and grinned happily. “I’m glad you’re finally fighting back, but the place has been going crazy with everyone trying to get a comment.”
“You know what’s good for you, you won’t comment,” Scardino interrupted, tapping the file in his hand. “Believe me, I know.”
Clark pointed to the conference room, “Jimmy, is the conference room still available?”
Jimmy nodded, “As far as I know. Jacks’ stuff is still in there.”
“Great,” Lois let out a sigh of relief as they made their way toward the conference room.
Clark looked over his shoulder, “You sure this is the same guy?”
“It’s not a common name, Kent.” Scardino let out a grunt. “It’s the same guy.”
“Okay, so here it is,” Lois pulled out a headshot of Omer Demir from the paperwork they had gathered so far.
Scardino nodded, jabbing his finger at Omer’s face. “That’s him.”
Clark let out a heavy breath, “Well, then I guess Omer owes us some answers.” He placed a hand on Lois’ shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here and wait for Jack and Scardino, and I’ll go down to the museum to see what we can get out of Omer?”
<<“You were struck by …Lois, I’m so sorry…”>>
<<“Clark, is our baby…?”
“I’m so sorry…”
“No… Please, no…”>>
<<“Please don’t leave me.”>>A flash of memories crossed through Lois’ mind, and she quickly argued, “No, I’m coming with you.”
“Lois, Jack might come back. Someone should be here.”
“And Perry and Jimmy are more than capable of talking to him.” Lois placed a hand on his chest. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
His expression was torn, but he finally relented, placing a protective hand across her shoulder. He nodded, uttering a quick, “Okay.”
“You two sure you’re ready for this?” Scardino warned, shooting a warning gaze in both their direction. “This guy is bad news.”
________________________________________
Two Years Ago…Lois bit her lower-lip, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Congressman Donald Schumer to appear. The appointment had been set to begin nearly half an hour ago and still no sign that the congressman planned to keep the appointment
His assistant looked in her direction with a frown, “I’ll try him again…”
Lois folded her hands across her chest, staring at the clock, “Well, I hate to interrupt his afternoon with something as trivial as an explanation to his constituents.”
“He really is coming, Ms. Lane,” his assistant tried weakly.
“Uh-huh,” Lois huffed, feigning a patience she didn’t feel.
Donald Schumer had been one of the hold outs on the recent vote for a bill intended to put tighter restrictions on the country’s borders. Despite assurances from both sides that this bill would make its way to the Senate, it never got past the House. Her sources said Schumer had been for the bill until recently, and she wanted to know why he had a sudden change of heart.
So far, all attempts to meet with him had been greeted with the classic game of avoidance as she was left playing cat and mouse with the congressman that remained elusive to the public in recent weeks. She ran a weary hand across her face, feeling the tension within her begin to rise.
She glanced at the time once more.
She could wait ten more minutes before she would have to leave.
She glanced toward the secretary, who was eying her nervously and let out a heavy sigh, jotting her number down on the back of the card and handed it to her. “Tell your Congressman he has until the end of today to respond before I write up my scathing expose on his hypocrisy, and I’ll include this game of making appointments he doesn’t show up for in it as well.”
With that, she turned on her heels and headed toward the door, smiling to herself when she saw the secretary reach for the phone and begin to dial. ‘Gotcha.’
________________________________________
Dan Scardino stood outside the worn-down building, watching as men came and went. His insides churn with disgust as he stared at the smug, superior expressions that covered their faces. He wanted more than anything to barrel through the door and take every last soulless monster into custody, but he couldn’t.
This was just another stop on his way into the dark world of Schiller and his cohorts. So far, he had been warned of a man named Omer and another man by the name of Elias, but he still had yet to find a face to match the name.
That would change once he stepped into the lion’s den.
It was a risk.
A dangerously deadly risk that could end up getting him killed.
It was also a risk that could give him the answers he sought and help save the lives of the girls Yvonne had warned him about. Children as young as twelve forced into a life of prostitution by their captors and subjected to abuses the world could only imagine.
He couldn’t fathom such atrocities.
His days as a field agent had brought him to some of the darkest parts of the world, seeking to bring in the deadly scum that pushed drugs on the streets. It was his job to stop them, and he had been the best. Or so he thought until Jenna had run across a lead that led them here.
<<“Any word on the girl?”
“She didn’t make it….Just be careful, Jenna.”
“When am I not careful?”
“You sure you’re up for this, Jenna?”
“Hey, Danny boy, you getting sentimental on me?”
“Dan’s right, Jenna, if you’re not up for this…”
“We’ll waste another week training another agent up. I can do this.”
“Be careful.”
“I’m always careful, Dan. You’re the one that needs to tighten the reigns before jumping in head first….I’m fine. I still have a ring to pick out.”
“Count on it.”>>Qatar had many painful memories, but the one that seared into his mind was that of his last conversation with Jenna. The last time he had seen her, she had been scared. Terrified but resiliently brave and willing to put herself on the line in order to protect the innocent lives at risk.
This was for Jenna.
________________________________________
Lois dialed the familiar number as she sat outside the doctor’s office door, waiting until the last minute to enter. Here she was in the same hospital she had found herself nearly bleeding to death months ago, waiting to be released from her doctor’s care and hopefully reclaim some semblance of normalcy. She had completed her Post-Op two weeks ago and finally been given the freedom to return to work on a restrictive basis. It wasn’t the best news, but it had been something.
Then there had been the concerned ‘hmm’ and the referral to a specialist, which led her here.
She glanced at the frosted glass in front of her, feeling her hand tremble as she heard a voice come over the line.
“She hasn’t moved since you left, Lois.”
“Just…keep an eye out. I have a feeling she’ll be calling Congressman Schumer or meeting up with him.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she will,” Jimmy chuckled over the line.
“I’ll be back this afternoon. Just call me if anything changes,” Lois instructed, pressing the end button on her phone. She tucked it back in her purse, letting out a heavy sigh.
Her gaze shifted to the door in front of her. Her appointment at the Post-Op had been so much easier. It was in a different building. Far away from the reminder of everything she had lost nearly three months ago. Her hand instinctively reached out to cover her abdomen, and her lips trembled, fighting back the raw emotion that was stirring within her.
She had found herself in life-threatening situations before. Survived from the depths of darkness and come out stronger for it time and time again, but this had been different. The danger had been lurking in the shadows and struck her as innocently as it had struck officers and security guards that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It felt so cheap to summarize her loss with such an overused saying.
There had been a heartbeat.
There had been a dream.
A life that she’d envisioned the moment she saw the two lines appear on her pregnancy test.
That life had disappeared as quickly as it had been conceived, maybe even faster.
Now all that was left was an aching empty void which left her longing for what had been taken from her, and the painful aftereffects from her injuries. Injuries, she was still nursing even twelve weeks later.
Still, the thought of sitting in that waiting room with all the sympathetic stares and other families that hadn’t had their lives turned on its axis with one cruel moment in time left her painfully aware just how little she had healed from everything.
Her muscles still weren’t nearly as strong as they once had been. She felt the occasional spasms make themselves known after an extra tiring day. The burns from the electrical current she’d been struck with had recovered thankfully. Though her body continued to struggle to catch up with her, her mind so desperately ached for the chance to return to normalcy.
“This seat taken?”
Lois smiled, turning her head to see Clark standing over her with a coffee in hand. “Hey, I thought you had that interview with Senator Harris…”
Clark took a seat next to her, leaning over to capture her lips with his, “I rescheduled.” He ran his hand against her cheek. “I didn’t want you sitting here alone.”
“It’s just a doctor appointment,” she shrugged.
“No, it’s not.” He whispered, cupping her cheek.
________________________________________
An MRI image was taped up on the screen for review. A red marker circling the scar tissue along the uterine wall on the MRI image. Clark tried to focus on what the doctor was saying. The words were important, but he just kept looking at the red markings. That was where she had been struck. The electrical current from LiveWire had literally run through their unborn child’s helpless body and out again. And he was to blame.
He hung his head, feeling the weight of his guilt press down on him as he focused on the words the doctor was saying. “Between where you were struck and the complications with the surgery right after …there’s a lot of scarring around your uterine wall here, which will make it very hard to conceive naturally.”
The pressure from Lois’ hand tightened around his as the doctor uttered those words, and he reached his arm around her, holding her close as he continued to process what it was the doctor was saying.
“I’m not saying it’s impossible, but if you do decide to try again, you may want to consider consulting with a fertility specialist…”
The words felt like a hard slap across his face as he stared at the MRI image once more. The loss of their unborn child and Lois’ subsequent injuries from after her run-in with LiveWire had pushed both himself and Lois’ mental and emotional strength as they fumbled their way through the grief that had overtaken them both. The possibility that they might have lost their only chance of conceiving another child seemed ludicrous to him.
It seemed inconceivable that Jon would never have a brother or sister. Or that he would never look into a newborn face that was the perfect blend of both himself and Lois. The miracle of Jon’s conception and that of the unborn child had been miracles in themselves. Miracles neither he nor Lois had considered even thinking twice about. Each of those precious miracles had caught him and Lois by surprise with an overwhelming joy that had consumed them both to the depths of their soul. Now, to be told, they would never experience that again seemed like a cruel twist of fate.
“I’ll give you a moment…”
________________________________________
Present Day…Jeremy Novak sat across from Senator Michael Harris, tapping his hand across the tabletop of his elegant wooden desk. He stared at the senator, trying to gather what Harris wanted from him. His jaw tightened as he looked over the colorful images across the many publishing media powerhouses. Many of them with the same story that he’d heard over the last month.
“I agree with you, senator, it’s troubling behavior, but it isn’t criminal.” Novak reached over to take a sip from his glass.
“What if I told you I had a witness willing to testify that the star witness the FBI used to put Lex Luthor away was just as guilty for the crimes he’s been charged with?” Harris asked, seeming to tremble as he set his glass down. “Isn’t it your job to prosecute all criminals, Jeremy?”
Novak leaned back in his chair and then nodded, “Bring me your witness, and we’ll open an investigation.”
________________________________________
Clark grimaced as he looked around the empty office, looking over his shoulder at the open door that was split along the side. The desk had been moved against the wall, and the ceiling panel had been moved, resting above them with the gaping hole revealed. He focused his attention toward the ceiling, noting a missed file up above.
“He’s gone,” Lois hissed out in dismay.
“Son of a…” Scardino slammed his fist against the desk, shaking his head as he looked around. “Always one step ahead of me.”
Clark frowned, observing the trembling of Scardino’s body as he ground his teeth, looking across Omer’s office in dismay. It was clear this wasn’t his first time of being given the slip by Omer Demir. The emotion coming from the DEA Agent told him this was personal.
“Something tells me this isn’t your first run-in with Omer,” Clark observed, placing his foot on the edge of the desk to climb up and investigate the open ceiling panel.
“Not my first rodeo,” Scardino muttered, shaking his head.
Clark stepped up on the desk, reaching above him to slide the ceiling panel out of the way. He put up the act of searching above his head and then felt his way toward the file he’d seen in his scan earlier.
“What is it?” Lois called out to him.
He gripped the file in his hand, lowering himself down to the desk and handing the file to Lois as he climbed down. “He left this behind.”
Scardino shook his head, stepping over toward Lois and peering over her shoulder. “Omer doesn’t do anything by accident.”
“Clark?” Lois let out a sharp gasp.
“What’s wrong?” Clark approached, noting the concern on Lois’ face.
“It’s Esma,” Lois uttered in a harsh whisper, holding up a photo with a gagged picture that matched Esma’s. She shook her head in dismay, reeling from the evidence staring back at her as plain as the nose on her face.
________________________________________
Ingrid sifted through the towering stack of unread magazines on the corner table next to her. She glanced toward the front desk, spotting the deputy on the phone. She shifted nervously in her seat, wondering how much longer she would be waiting for the detective to arrive.
The sound of the door slamming caught her off guard, and she jumped, startled to see a woman in light curly red hair with glasses pushed down the edge of her nose. She pointed to the deputy and asked, “You had a walk-in?”
He pointed in Ingrid’s direction, and she shook her head, feeling second thoughts flood through her mind as she caught a glimpse of more police entering the building. The face of one of the officers came into focus, and she went numb. She scrambled to her feet and made her way toward the exit.
“Wait!”
________________________________________
Michael Harris turned back and forth in his desk chair, pondering his next move. He glanced toward the broken glass, still covering his floor from where Tobias had thrown it earlier. He knew beyond any doubt Tobias and the underlings he worked with were capable of doing much more harm than the mere threat and bruises he had received tonight.
He gritted his teeth, reaching over to dial a familiar number. After two rings, he heard the familiar voice of his sister, “Michael, I’m working. What is it?”
“Can’t a brother call up his sister when he has a spare moment?” Michael Harris asked, trying to hide the wavering tone in his voice. “How’s school?”
“Busy,” she replied with a heavy sigh. “Juggling the different personalities that come into my classroom and trying to make science interesting to a freshman class.” She let out a chuckle. “How are you? Mr. Big Shot Senator?”
“Busy.” He acknowledged with a wry expression, keeping the phone nestled between the crook of his ear and shoulder. His attention shifted across his desk from the notes and busy calendars to the photo of himself and Susan. An optimistic kid standing in his red and white cap and gown with his kid sister sitting next to him in her wheelchair with so much pride written on her face, he could feel it even now. ‘What would she think of me now?’ It seemed like so long ago he was just a kid with a dream. How had he fallen so low?
“Michael? Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Suzie.” He replied, hearing the determination in his voice, and he let out a chuckle. “I just miss you is all.”
“Well, you’re welcome to come visit anytime you like.”
“I know,” he said gently, shaking his head. “I might just do that.”
________________________________________
Lois stared at the image in front of her, shaking her head as she waited for the elevator to arrive on the newsroom floor. Clark followed her gaze from behind her, reading the scribblings in the file depicting the value Omer thought he could get out of Esma based on a sick pricing scale he applied to her looks and age. Her stomach churned as she scanned the scribblings feeling her eyes water as her hand instinctively covered her abdomen.
“Your friend Jack going to be a problem?” Scardino asked, hanging his head as he leaned a hand up on the edge of the corner of the elevator wall.
“He wants to stop these guys as much as we do,” Clark responded with a frown.
“He was friends with this, Omer,” Scardino pointed out.
“He thought of him as a mentor. Nothing more.” Lois cut in, shaking her head. “Sometimes we don’t always know everything about everyone.”
“Speaking from personal experience there?” Scardino asked, furrowing his brow.
Clark leaned over to glare at Scardino with a clenched jaw, “How about you just focus on the case?”
“Fine by me,” Scardino flashed them a quick grin as the elevator pinged, announcing their arrival on the newsroom floor. He gestured to the open door and added, “After you.”
Lois rolled her eyes and stepped out on the newsroom floor with Clark a few paces behind her. She let out a frustrated growl as she turned the corner, noting the two of them were still right behind her. She reached for the coffee pot, pouring herself a cup.
A hand reached out to hand her the low-fat creamer, and she glanced up to see Clark’s sympathetic gaze. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she flashed him a quick smile. “We’ll find her, Lois, I promise.”
“Don’t be promising things you can’t keep, Kent.” Scardino’s voice came from the corner where he had helped himself to the selection of snacks on the table, taking a bite from a candy bar, and Lois glared at him. “What?”
“Are you always this…hopeful?” Lois glared at him.
“It’s a part of my charm,” Scardino grinned at her, and she let out a huff.
“There is a sixteen-year-old girl being sold on the black market to the highest bidder.” She waved the file in her hand in the air. “Here is your proof.”
“It’s not enough,” Scardino said, shaking his head, following her toward the conference room.
“It’s the breakdown of how these guys are pricing these girls to sell,” Clark cut in aghast that it was still not enough to draw attention from anyone.
Scardino pointed at the file, “Did you see Omer write this?”
“We all know it was him.” Lois shot back irritably.
“Really? Maybe it was just the poor helpful art instructor trying to find the right amount to offer the kidnappers.” Scardino quipped innocently.
“You don’t really believe that,” Lois scoffed in dismay.
“Of course I don’t believe that, but that is the story he’ll tell, and that is exactly what these bureaucrats in Washington will believe when they let him walk. You want to nail him to the wall, then you need a smoking gun, and that ain’t it.”
“Hey, Lois, CK?” Jimmy walked up to them with a red-haired girl that couldn’t be older than seventeen behind him. Though hidden in her eyes was a wisdom that aged her. Lois immediately recognized her. Hidden beneath the makeup and dyed hair was the same girl Clark had been searching for since discovering her disappearance from the Fifth Street Mission.
“I hate to interrupt, but …” Jimmy gestured to the girl behind him, and Clark interjected before he could finish.
“Ingrid,” Clark let the name roll off his tongue with ease, and Lois’ eyes widened, realizing he might have given a little too much information away with the name slip.
“How did you…?” Ingrid looked at him in surprise, her eyes widened in fear.
“Wait,” Lois called out to her. “We’ve been looking for you. Superman was worried about you when you disappeared from the Fifth Street Mission. We just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She stopped mid-step, seeming to be trying to determine if she believed Lois or not. “Superman saved me,” Ingrid spoke up in broken English. The faint German accent could be heard as she spoke. Her tone was harsh, as she added. “Then he took me back to where I lost everything.”
“I’m sure he didn’t know,” Lois took a step toward her as Jimmy and Clark both remained quiet, watching as Lois tried to stop this poor girl from disappearing into the darkness she had been swallowed up in for the last several months.
Ingrid gave her a hesitant gaze then turned away, “No one ever does.”
“So, let’s change that,” Lois prodded gently. “Let us help you.”
Ingrid turned to face Lois, folding her arms over her chest, shaking her head. “I sat in the police station for thirty minutes, ready to do whatever it takes to help save the girl you were searching for. Then the door opened, and I was staring at a man that had raped me for an hour and then spat on me like garbage. Don’t you see? No one can help me.”
“I can,” Dan Scardino called out to her from the corner where he had been seated quietly, watching the exchange unfold between the two of them.
Lois watched as recognition crossed Ingrid’s face, pausing with a curious expression and looking at Dan Scardino as if she was trying to place him from somewhere. “I’ve seen you before….How…?”
Scardino held stood up from his seat and walked over to her, pointing at a long scar across his jawline, “Nearly eighty-three stitches and a limp I’ll live with.” He frowned, meeting her fearful gaze. “You were the girl. The one that was hiding?”
She bit her lower-lip, recoiling as she recalled the moment he was reminding her of. “I try not to think about…” her voice wavered, and she finally responded, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
Lois watched helplessly as Ingrid sunk down into one of the conference room chairs, letting out a labored sob that shook her to the core. She knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, wondering how to reassure her after trust and safety had been violated for so long. “Ingrid, why did you come here? What are you searching for?”
“I saw the papers. That girl…they have her. I know they do,” she let out a choked sob.
“Who has her?” Lois asked gently.
“I can’t say,” Ingrid shook her head, turning away.
“Why?” Scardino asked.
“You don’t understand. I will be killed. I survive because they don’t know where to find me.” Ingrid’s hand trembled as she let out a soft whimper. “You cannot stop these animals.”
“We can get Superman to help you,” Clark remarked softly, squeezing Lois’ shoulder.
“He doesn’t know what to look for,” Ingrid said with a sob.
“Then maybe you can tell us.” Lois pleaded with her. “Look, we know you’ve had a hard life. You were never given a fair shot at anything and forced to struggle and endure things no child should have to be put through. You’re a strong and capable individual, and if you help us, I know we can stop these people from ever hurting you or girls like Esma ever again.”
“I won’t go into these shelters or foster families. I won’t put myself in that situation again,” Ingrid warned with a dark gaze.
“Do you have somewhere to go?” Clark asked curiously.
“I am not on the street or living in my car if that’s what you’re worried about,” Ingrid sniffed, shaking her head.
Lois exchanged a glance with Clark, and he signaled his acknowledgment with a head nod. She turned to Ingrid and shook her head in agreement. “We just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“I can take care of myself,” Ingrid said, turning away.
“I’m sure you can,” Clark responded, pausing briefly as Ingrid looked away. Lois met her husband’s conflicted expression, seeing the tension and worry lines across his face briefly before he reached his hand up to cover his face. A gesture he often did when he was trying to keep his emotions at bay. Clark hung his head and spoke up, “Six months ago you tried to jump in front of a train to get away from these guys. I may be wrong, but it sounds to me like maybe you could use some help in keeping away from these guys.”
“I don’t trust the police,” Ingrid shook her head.
“Then trust me,” Scardino interjected. He pointed to his chest. “You want to help us find this missing girl, we’ll gladly welcome the help, but we do it my way.”
________________________________________
Two Years Ago…Lois glanced across the room, catching the forlorn expression on Clark’s face as he sunk down on the edge of the bed, not bothering to change out of his suit and tie from earlier. She set her things down on the dresser and ran her hands across her upper arms, rubbing them gently as she walked further into the room. She hadn’t had the strength to put on the pretense of being okay after the news from the specialist earlier.
Clark had called his parents and arranged for Jon to have a sleepover with them for the night. She wanted so desperately to be able to hold Jon and never let go, but given the gravity of her emotions right now, she knew it was probably for the best. Seeing her and Clark like this would only scare him.
“Your dad called,” Lois found her voice as she claimed the spot on the bed next to him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Jon’s having a blast with your mom making paintball art.”
Clark chuckled, letting out a snort, “That’ll be fun getting out of his hair.”
She nodded her agreement, resting her head against his shoulder, waiting for him to work his way up to the news they’d received this afternoon. She didn’t have to wait for long. His haunting gaze shifted from his lap and back to her as he choked out a painful, heart-wrenching apology.
“I’m…so sorry, Lois. This is all my fault.”
“Your fault?” Lois squinted back at him, not following his logic as her hand slipped inside his, clasping her palm around his as she looked back at him expectantly.
“You were right. I was being a hypocrite and arrogant thinking I can handle these guys.” He explained gently, hanging his head in shame, continuing in a hoarse murmur. “First Bad Brain then LiveWire. I should never have confronted her there.”
“Clark,” Lois felt her heart hammer in her chest, feeling the weight of the guilt he was carrying from the words that escaped his lips. She reached her hands out, cupping his face as she forced him to look at her. Her voice trembled as tears escaped the corners of her eyes. “Listen to me. You did not do this. There’s no way anyone could have known what LiveWire was capable of.”
“No, Lois…It’s my fault. I should have…”
Lois felt the lump in her throat., watching the turmoil of emotions cross his face in dismay. “Clark, don’t you dare blame yourself for this. It was LiveWire that did this. Not you.” She pressed her lips to his forehead, feeling his steel muscles relax against her. Her arms wrapped around him as she felt his body shudder against her.
Tears burned against the corners of her eyes as his lips met hers. A soft whisper reached her ears as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks, unable to hold them back as her body shook uncontrollably.
Clark brushed his palm against her face, wiping away her tears. She let out a shuddered gasp as he nibbled his way down her jaw and to her throat. “I love you, you know that?” he murmured in between heated kisses.
She let out a shuddered breath, and he tilted her chin up with his thumb, brushing his lips against hers. One kiss became two, then four until she lost count. Raw, uninhibited instinct quickly took over as her hands roamed up and down his body, refusing to lose contact with him for a minute, she wrapped her arms around him, deepening the kiss. He groaned his approval against her lips as she ran her palms up and down his back.
Three months. It had been three months since they had made love. Three months since the incident with LiveWire. Three months since she had felt his heartbeat in-sync with hers. She needed to desperately feel him pressed against her the way he always did when they made love. She needed him almost as much as he needed her in that moment.
She ran her hands up and down the front of his shirt, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the cotton of his dress shirt. Her body molded against his, feeling him begin to respond to her touch. “Make love to me, Clark,” she murmured against him, gripping the collar of his shirt as they sunk back on the bed.
________________________________________
The distinct scent of incense swiveled through the air as Dan Scardino looked around the dimly lit room, toward the dinged red and gold trim that swayed back and forth where a man dressed in dark robes stood at the center of it all. The crowd circled around the man as a handshake here, and there was exchanged.
Scardino stood along the sidelines of the crowd, fidgeting beneath the dirty cloths he wore, trying to fit in with the degenerates that seemed more interested in getting their fix from the local medicine man than anything. He stared down at his bare feet, grimacing at the bloody cracks on them. As painful as it was for him, the advice Yvonne had given him had helped him get through three levels of tests in order to bring him here.
“My friend, I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before.”
Scardino jumped, startled by the hand on his shoulder. He looked behind him and noted the burly man behind him with a long goatee. He looked to his left, where the man that had been in the center of the room had moved to his side and was staring back at him expectantly.
“I, uh, haven’t had the pleasure,” Scardino grunted out, flashing his best smile at the man. “Anwir,” he introduced himself, feigning his best Arabic accent, hoping against all odds he wouldn’t draw any more attention.
The identity he’d assumed was one given to him by Yvonne. It was dangerous. Not knowing who might have come in contact with the man prior, but it had helped him cut through many of the barriers and given him a somewhat believable backstory when asked.
“Anwir?” the man stared at him for a long time and then asked, “How did you hear about us, Anwir?”
“Anwir,” Scardino responded with a smile.
There was an uncomfortable pause for what he felt would last forever, and then the man’s face relaxed and broke out into a smile, “Well, then, any friend of Anwir’s is a friend of mine. Come, get yourself a drink.” He pointed toward the table where many of the crowd were huddled around.
Scardino nodded, forcing a smile across his face as he skirted his way toward the crowd, feeling the eyes on him. Something felt off. He glanced toward the corner of the room where he saw a woman in gold and pink dancing. Her eyes caught his with an almost urgent calling that drew him to her. He found himself following her with his gaze, and with it, his feet followed until he stopped a few feet away from her.
As he stopped, he noted the woman was no woman at all. She was merely a young girl dressed to the nine in clothing made for a woman nearly ten years older than her. His gaze settled on her face as he saw the panic in her eyes.
“You can’t be this close to me.” She warned.
“How old are you?” Scardino asked.
“What do you care?” She scoffed, giving him a dirty look before sneering at him. “You stand out like a sore thumb.”
With that, a hard blow came from behind, and everything went dark.
________________________________________
Clark stared at the ceiling, feeling his heart pounding against his chest from the aftermath of the recent lovemaking with Lois. Three months. It might as well have been three years. The pain of losing their unborn child had left them both in a grief-stricken fatigue that weighed heavily on them. A gaping hole that gnawed deep inside his gut of the guilt that he had carried with him. Holding her like this felt so right. The world seemed to make so much more sense with Lois by his side.
“Clark?”
He turned his head, looking down at where Lois was laid across him, resting her head on his chest as she let out a heavy sigh. “Hmm?”
“Do you think that doctor’s right?” She lifted her head up, meeting his gaze as she looked at him expectantly. “Do you think we really won’t be able to have another baby without seeing a specialist?” Tears trickled down her cheeks, “I don’t even think that’s an option. What if…?”
He quickly cut her off before she could ramp herself up into full babble-mode, “Lois, it was one opinion.” His voice trembled as he spoke, not sure how convinced he was of the statement but continued, leaning over to stroke her cheek. “The very fact that we were able to conceive children is a miracle in itself. Trying to over-analyze if it’s still possible seems premature.” His gaze softened, and he added gently, “We live the impossible every day. The mere fact that we’ve conceived not one, but two children has combated the odds of supposed experts. Will there be challenges? Probably, but nothing worthwhile is worth having without its own challenges. This is no different.”
Lois nodded, placing a hand across his chest, hesitantly gazing at him as she found the strength to say the words weighing on her mind. “I want to try again.” She brushed her lips to his and murmured. “I want another baby.”
________________________________________
Present Day…Clark stared across the dinner table at Jon, trying to focus on the jibber-jabbering about his favorite Bob the Builder episode and how his friend Davey colored on his picture. He wanted so badly to be able to sit across from him and not think about the gruesome realities his mind had been opened up to this afternoon. Children as young as Jon plucked up off the street and sold into the black-market world.
How could the world be so cruel? How could this be happening here in Metropolis without him even knowing? Children taken from the safety of their homes and never to be seen again. Children.
“Dad! Dad! Dad!”
“Yeah, bud?” Clark shook his head, turning to Jon as Lois gave him a questioning gaze.
“Look an airplane,” Jon held his fork up in the air, making a whirring sound as he imitated an airplane flying in the air. “I am a fighter pilot! Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!”
Clark cracked a smile, chuckling at his son’s antics. Lois reached over to point to the broccoli still sitting on Jon’s plate. “All right, little bird, how about we focus on finishing this broccoli before trying to take off on any missions, hmm?”
Jon grumbled about how real fighter pilots don’t have to fly on a full stomach and poked his fork into the broccoli. Clark let out a heavy sigh and glanced in Lois’ direction just as she rolled her eyes.
________________________________________
Dan Scardino leaned back on the hotel bed, staring up at the flickering light that buzzed above him. He frowned, shaking his head and turning to look over at the photo he had propped up on the nightstand. The young kid with his arm around a beautiful brunette—That kid had it all. A life and someone to love and a fighting spirit that caught him some hell from the higher-ups. Somethings never change.
What he wouldn’t give to be that kid again.
Things seemed so much simpler back then.
He felt sick to his stomach with guilt over not finding a way to get more information from Omer or Yvonne when he’d had the chance. So many names. So many faces and the more layers that he pulled back, the more complicated things became. Drugs. This had all started with a cocaine and methamphetamine bust and had ballooned into a full-blown child trafficking investigation.
He had more than he’d started with, and this girl, Ingrid, could be the key to finding Omer and this Tobias. He just prayed they didn’t get to her before they did.
The phone on his nightstand rang, and he reached over to answer it, “Scardino.”
“Mr. Scardino, this hotel water is too hot.”
“So turn it down,” Scardino instructed Ingrid over the phone.
“I tried.” She hissed back with a sharp tone.
“So, you want me to call maintenance?” Scardino asked.
“You were the one that said I couldn’t talk with the front desk.” Ingrid reminded him.
“Fine,” Scardino sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching for the extra key card. “I’ll be there in a few.”
________________________________________
Lois placed her head against the tile wall of the shower, letting out a heavy sigh as she wrapped her towel around her body, reaching her hand out to open the shower door. After dinner, she had been hit with a wave of nausea that had nearly taken her out. Clark had thankfully taken over with Jon’s bedtime routine while she reclaimed her bearings. Nausea had been the first sign for her with her last pregnancy but had been noticeably absent with her pregnancy with Jon. She needed to sit Clark down and tell him, but with everything, they were juggling, she wasn’t sure she had the mental strength to open that door just yet.
Nearly a year of desperately trying to conceive had tested both their emotional and mental strength. The painful moment they had both resigned themselves to putting an end to the emotional burden that came with continuing to try for something that would never come was forever etched in her mind. She had let that dream go, convinced she would never know the joy of carrying another life inside her again. Like every challenge they had faced before, they had sought one another out, supporting one another through the unwelcome reality of being unable to expand their family. As painful as it was, they had both accepted this as their reality.
A family of three.
Now, here she was nearly two years later wondering how to process the news – the bombshell- she had dropped on her this morning. Hope was such a cruel thing. Each month it had taunted them both and then been dashed away with the blink of an eye. With it came fear and agony with which she was forced to carry on in silence. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about what had happened nearly three years ago was fair.
Opening up those wounds and daring to hope felt surreal as if it were someone else she was watching. It couldn’t be that simple. It couldn’t be that easy. They had tried for so long, and now all of a sudden, it just happened?
Her gaze shifted to the pharmacy bag she had picked up earlier, pondering if she truly had the strength to endure this test again.
‘One way to find out.’
________________________________________
Clark leaned back in his chair at the table, tapping the pen in between his fingers back and forth against the notepad in front of him as he listened to his friend, Roger Templeton explain all the reasons why the FBI could not pursue this case.
“I get there are politics involved here, Clark, but we can’t just go barging into another country without some kind of due process.”
“We know these guys were last seen in Qatar. Why can’t we send someone over there to search for them?”
“We know they were there two years ago, Clark. There’s no telling if these guys are even on the same continent now.”
“The people behind this are plucking children up off the street and shipping them off somewhere, and doing God knows what to them….” Clark trailed off, unable to let his mind go there. “I’d think Qatar is at least a good place to start. Are you seriously telling me there’s nothing the FBI can do to rescue these kids?”
“We have no guarantee these missing girls are even in Qatar,” Roger explained plainly. “There are politics and some heavy-handed border laws that prevent us from storming over there without more evidence than a sighting from two years ago. Hell, they want to make it even stricter…”
“I understand,” Clark replied irritably, recalling the uproar that the open border laws had caused. There seemed to always be an argument over the Border control laws. An argument for open borders looked good on paper and sounded good coming out of the different politicians' mouths during elections, but the details of just what those laws meant left a lot to be desired. Many of the congressmen that were running on this platform insisted it was a humanitarian issue, while the opposing side argued the risk it brought in welcoming criminals without the checks and balances and no way to identify their comings and goings. While the laws that had been put in place weren’t completely open borders, it did tie the hands of many governing agencies when pursuing suspects outside the country.
“Look, the only way we can do anything is to prove these girls are over there. We do that, and it then becomes something we can get the Secretary of State involved in with the UN to negotiate their release.”
“Negotiate?” Clark echoed, aghast at the word. “Roger, these guys are criminals. How about the simple act of law and order to take them into custody and freeing these kids from whatever hell they’re enduring right now as we speak?”
“I understand your frustration, Clark, but there isn’t enough intel to even confirm your kidnappers are even in any of these countries. A sighting two years ago isn’t enough to warrant breaking a country’s sovereignty. Hell, even the Secretary of State can’t…” Templeton trailed off with dismay. “I wish I had better news for you. I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” Clark barked, setting the phone down on the receiver with a click.
“How many is that?” Lois asked, poking her head around the corner with a towel wrapped around her hair and her terry cloth robe wrapped snugly around her.
“Eighteen,” Clark grumbled, pointing to the list in front of him as she approached, looking a little more refreshed than she had after dinner. “You feeling any better?”
“A little,” she admitted, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek as she slid on his lap with a heavy sigh. “I guess I was more affected by everything Ingrid and Agent Scardino told us today than I thought.”
“There is nothing anyone outside of people that sit in the White House can do to help these kids.” Clark remarked with a heavy sigh, “I just…I don’t know what to do.”
“We don’t know for sure they’re still in Qatar,” Lois pointed out, resting her head against his shoulder. “They could be anywhere.”
“We don’t know that they’re not,” Clark argued, shaking his head. “I don’t get it. How is the FBI supposed to stop human trafficking if they can’t go to the country they’re taking these kids to?”
“Have you tried calling Jack Davenport?” Lois asked curiously. “Or Director Talley? Maybe they can get through the red tape?”
“Talley’s not taking any calls, and Davenport has his phone going straight to voicemail,” Clark grumbled.
“Well, maybe we can try them later?” Lois pondered aloud.
“I’m not sure there’s much they can do. Roger seemed pretty insistent that the FBI’s hands were tied unless some agreement can be made to allow the FBI or troops into Qatar. There is no way that’s happening.” Clark asked, disheartened over the current situation.
“Something tells me you’ve already convinced yourself of an alternate way of handling this,” Lois observed, placing a hand across his cheek.
“Superman could confirm these guys are still in Qatar.” Clark began quietly.
“And what happens if Superman comes across these missing girls?” Lois asked, letting out a heavy sigh. “I want to bring them home as much as you do, Clark, but if Superman flies over there and tries to rescue any of these kids without the right authorities, it could start a war in an already hostile climate.”
“I know,” Clark acknowledged with a torn expression. “I have to do something, Lois. I can’t just sit back and do nothing.”
“You can’t go break another nation’s sovereignty in the name of justice either,” Lois shook her head. “If you find her there. You won’t be able to bring her home. You will have to leave her there. Are you sure you can do that?”
“If I do find her there, then I’ll know where to send the FBI or whoever they decide to send in and rescue her,” Clark said with a somber expression. “I have to know.”
Lois nodded, seeming to be mulling over something before she finally relented and then added, “You’ll need to wear something a little more discreet than the red ‘S’ and cape.”
________________________________________
TBC...
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