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TOC is
here . Part 3 is located
here .
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From part 3:
I jab my finger into the button and wait impatiently, my mind alternately trying to concoct another plan whilst the mantra continues to roll through my mind. ‘Take the bait, Lex. Come on, take the bait you son of a b…’ Lex calls my name. My heart flutters and I smother a triumphant grin before turning to face him.
“Lois? One thing I forgot to mention. I received a call from Jim Bradley yesterday about his ratings.”
“Jim Bradley,” I murmur, trying to place name, “The LNN news director in San Francisco?”
“Yes. It seems he’s having quality issues with his team. I can’t fit a trip into my schedule so I’m hoping you can help me. You’re the real expert on reporting the news anyway. I realize it’s an inconvenience, but may I have Mrs. Cox schedule a trip for you this afternoon?”
“Of course, Lex.” I nod, beaming in honest pleasure at his request before I step into the lift. He places his hand along the frame to keep the door open.
“And if you *do* happen to get that Superman exposé while you’re there, I won’t complain.”
He leans in and gives me another kiss – the last if I can help it. Everything has come together. Now I just need the evidence to put him away forever. I hope Clark Kent is the one to help me do it. I wave as the doors close between us.
“Goodbye, Lex.”
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Master of Disguise - Part 4
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
I reattach the binoculars to the tripod and peek through to make sure everything’s set when Kent comes into focus. My eyes meander across his broad shoulders and down his back as he places a cup of coffee down. By the time he stretches across his desk to pick up his phone, my gaze has dropped lower and I unconsciously lick my lips. The sudden ringing of the phone makes me jump and I chastise myself for getting distracted. I dig into my bag for the offending equipment, shoving aside my LNN phone and scrambling to open my ‘Jimmy’ phone.
“What have you got?” I answer brusquely.
“This morning Lex told Nigel how pleased he is that he tricked you into tracking down Superman. Aside from that, your tail either isn’t aware of your disappearances, or he hasn’t wanted to report how often he loses you.”
“Good. I hate every minute I’m spending at the LNN offices, but it’s worth it if Lex thinks he’s fooled me into doing his dirty work. Besides, getting away from Lex’s thug to follow Kent is child’s play.” Apparently, it’s beyond the dolt's imagination that I would rent the hotel room below mine and climb between balconies using a length of nylon rope.
“How’s it going?”
“Fine. Kent arrived at work a few minutes ago. I’m set up on the roof across the street from the newsroom and can see his desk from here.”
“Any problems?”
“Not really. I only had to pick a couple of locks to get set up here for surveillance.”
“I feel a ‘but’ coming. What’s the problem?”
I reach up to rub a kink in my shoulder at Jimmy’s perceptive question. After shadowing Kent for three days in various disguises, I feel exhausted. He’s a busy and observant man and he always seems to find a way of evading my tail, but that isn’t the difficult part.
“The problem is that there are other people watching him, too.”
“Lex?”
“I thought so at first, but they don’t look right. If they weren’t so sloppy, I’d say they’re military.”
“Why is the military interested in Clark Kent?”
“I don’t know.”
Staying out of the way has been tricky, but squelching the impulse to find out who they are is darn near impossible. I bite my lip, reminding myself to stay focused on my own tasks. I shake off Jimmy’s question and get back on task. “As long as they don’t interfere with our investigation, it can wait.”
“So have you made up your mind about Kent?”
“I think so. He’s even more impressive in person than on paper – honest and hard-working.”
I haven’t stumbled across any dirty little secrets during my reconnaissance, but I remind myself bitterly that appearances can be deceiving. I grimace at the uncharitable thought and concede, begrudgingly, that Kent does have a kind heart. Last night, I had cased his apartment dressed as a bag-lady and he had stopped to offer me money and directions to the nearest soup kitchen.
“He sounds like a good guy,” Jimmy says.
“Maybe – his neighbors think him friendly, I saw him help a cat out of a tree and his apartment is neat as a pin.” I watch Kent smile at someone before he walks out of view. “Not to mention he’s drop-dead gorgeous.” I mumble the last under my breath, but Jimmy still hears it.
“Watch it, you’re a married woman,” he jokes.
“Not for long,” I grumble, squinting through the lenses again to check on Kent’s whereabouts. I know Jimmy is just kidding around, but I’m not quite ready to joke about my marital status. Maybe it’ll be funny after Lex is safely rotting away in a prison cell. Jimmy sighs.
“Be careful, Lois.”
I roll my eyes, but am secretly happy that he cares enough to say it. “You too. Call you later.”
I snap the phone shut and peek through the binoculars again. Kent’s still not in view, but I’ve seen enough to decide that he’s the one and it’s time to move forward. I reopen my “Jimmy” phone and dial Kent’s phone number. Through the binoculars, I see Kent sprint into view to answer my call, settling down in his chair as he chirps a greeting.
“City Desk.”
“Mr. Kent?”
“Yes, this is Clark Kent. How can I help you?”
“I have some information.” Through the phone, I hear a pen click and a rustling of paper as Kent pulls his notebook open in preparation. I smile.
“What kind of information, Miss…?”
I ignore his request for a name and dive in, attempting to knock him off balance from the start. “Before I say anything, I need some answers from you, Clark Jerome Kent of Smallville, Kansas. For the past five years, you’ve traveled the globe freelancing, always drifting to your next job within weeks of arriving. You’ve reported on everything from geckos to disaster relief efforts, but all of that changed when you came to San Francisco. There are many sides to you, Mr. Kent. Which one is real?”
He’s quiet for a moment. I watch through the binoculars as he rubs his chin in thought. When he finally answers, his voice is wary. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean. You seem to know an awful lot about me, Miss. Have we met before?”
“No, I just did my homework.”
“You’re investigating me?”
“Yes, and when I thought I had you all figured out, along came Superman.”
I hear plastic creaking, as if the handset casing is being squeezed too tightly. I see him swivel his chair away from the newsroom, a hand running through his hair above hunched shoulders. “What do you … Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but…”
“Why don’t I tell you, then,” I interrupt. “Your recent investigative scoops have been hard-hitting and insightful – especially those exposing Domo – but then you were soft on Superman. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t you ask Superman any tough questions? Your article was more puff-piece than investigative journalism.”
Kent doesn’t answer for a minute as he leans back in his chair and exhales slowly. “*That’s* what you want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s because … Superman is very busy and doesn’t have time for lengthy interviews.”
“That’s what I suspected.”
It’s a relief to know that Kent isn’t intimidated by a powerful person or hasn’t lost his touch. We will need all the skill and talent we can muster to break Lex. I start rolling over the next steps in my mind when Kent’s voice startles me.
“Why go through the trouble of investigating me when all you needed to do was ask?”
“I needed to know if I could trust you.”
“Trust me with what?” he asks.
“I don’t know if I should tell you over the phone.”
“Then why did you call me?”
I can hear the amusement in his voice and his teasing irks me. “This isn’t a prank call, Kent. What I’ve got is big – I just need to be careful with whom to trust.”
“And how can I trust anything you say if you won’t even tell me your name?”
“Call me Lelaine,” I say glibly.
“Call you…? Giving me a pseudonym isn’t a great way to build trust, ‘Lelaine.’”
“I can’t use my real name. If he finds out, he’ll kill me in a Metropolis Minute.”
After a beat of silence, his voice softens. “If you’re in danger, I can quote you anonymously. We can ensure your safety.”
“No one can guarantee that. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“Listen, I can protect you...”
I laugh. “No, you can’t – you can’t even protect yourself. Did you know you’re being watched?” I see his head jerk up and scan the newsroom before shifting his glasses down his nose to look out the window. I know he can’t see me, but I duck when his glance passes my position on the roof.
“You mean by someone other than yourself?”
“Yes. I don’t know who they are, except they look military.” I hear his sharp intake of breath, but I ignore it. I’m letting him get me off-track. “Don’t distract me, Kent. That’s not the reason I called you.”
“You’ve got something better than the military following me?”
“Yes. Hold on.” I remember my scrambler and reach down to turn it on. In theory it emits a high-pitch frequency that interferes with listening devices. I sit back up and look through the binoculars in time to see Kent pulling the phone away to rub at his ear. Weird.
I wait impatiently for him to bring the handset back to his head, but he speaks before I get a chance. His annoyance is obvious.
“Listen Lelaine, or whoever you are, I’m trying to be patient, but I don’t have time to play games. If you have something to say, then say it.”
“I know who the Boss is,” I whisper, “I know who he is and I want you to help me bring him down.”
I hold my breath and watch as he turns to face the window again, looking toward my spot on the roof. His silence is eloquent in its simplicity. I’ve definitely caught his attention.
“Where do you want to meet?” he asks.
“The fountain near Third and Fulsom in fifteen minutes – and be sure to lose your tail before you get there.”
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
I arrive at the fountain and lean up against the wall next to a take-out sushi joint, scanning the area for Kent. I try to be unobtrusive, but it isn’t long before building security notices me loitering. I don’t blame them for being concerned. In Hobbs Bay, my unkempt goatee and dirty clothes help me blend in, but in this neighborhood, I look like trouble.
The guard starts making his way toward me just as I see Kent crossing the green toward the fountain. Although Kent’s not looking in my direction, I raise my hand in greeting to show the guard I’m moving along. As I walk, I watch Kent settle on the edge of the concrete wall that surrounds the fountain before looking around for me. I can almost feel his gaze when he notices me walking toward him.
For some reason, I become unaccountably nervous as he watches me cross the plaza, like he’s seeing not just through my disguise, but also into my soul. My heart starts pounding and my palms start to sweat at the fanciful thought.
‘Get a grip, Lane,” I scold myself. ‘There’s no way he could know who you are.’ I take a deep breath, steeling myself to meet the man who could set me free.
I sidle up beside him and glance around to make sure no one is paying us undue attention. He does the same. I’m so intent on checking for either Lex’s men or Kent’s shadows that his cautious voice startles me.
“Lelaine?”
I nod once and he chuckles, a soothing rumble in the back of his throat. “You’re right. You can take care of yourself.”
I smile at that. Any man that can respect my ability to run my own life is definitely someone I want to know. “Were you followed?”
“No. I saw the men you told me about though. You’re right, they’re military.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I… um, overheard one of them speaking to a Colonel on the phone."
After catching glimpses of them these past few days, I realize how difficult it would be to get close enough to his shadows to overhear a phone conversation and my esteem for Kent's abilities as an investigative reporter goes up. It reassures me about my decision to bring Kent into my investigation of Lex. I finally feel myself relax until his next comment reminds me of the looming danger inherent to betraying Lex.
"Maybe they are working with the Boss,” he says, the question clear in his voice.
"Shh,"I scold, scanning the surrounding area with my eyes to see if anyone overheard his comment. Kent opens his mouth to speak again and I hold up my hand for him to wait. I palm my scrambler from my bag and covertly flip the switch on. I may not see anyone tailing us, but I don’t want to take any chances. Kent winces and reaches up to rub his forehead.
“You okay?”
He grunts some kind of affirmation and leaves his head bowed, asking his next question softly on the breath of a sigh. “So you know the Boss well enough that if he knew you were speaking to me, he’d kill you. Who is he and what is he to you?”
“Straight to the point. You’re a man after my own heart, Mr. Kent.”
“Clark, please, otherwise I’ll keep looking over my shoulder for my dad.” He lifts his head and smiles at me, a smile that leaves me feeling a bit dazzled. “Tell me about the Boss.”
His request brings me back to earth with a thud. “The Boss has operations all over the country and although you’ve exposed a few, what you’ve found is the tip of the iceberg. He’s a crime lord that runs practically every illegal scheme you can think of, from drugs to gun running to gambling. You were on the right track when you exposed Domo’s involvement in the prostitution ring, but the General is just one underling in the Boss’s West Coast operations – he didn’t orchestrate anything.”
“I suspected as much,” Kent says. “One of my sources told me about the Boss just before we caught Domo, but I ran into a wall when I tried to dig deeper.”
“You won’t get any information from Domo either; he’ll never turn evidence against Le … the Boss. Everyone that works for the Boss understands that betrayal is death.”
“I’ve got an FBI contact that I trust. If you give me what you know, he could put you into the witness protection program …”
“Forget it,” I interrupt. “The Boss’s reach extends throughout the underbelly of most major cities, into the police precincts, the prison systems and the federal government. You can’t trust anyone and I won’t be shoved aside while the big, strong men take over and fumble it, letting him get away.”
I can tell that my words take him aback and I close my eyes and take a deep breath to control my emotions. I remind myself that he doesn't know who I am or that I know how to run an investigation; I can’t afford to scare Kent away, but he also needs to understand that this is my show.
“Let’s get this straight from the beginning,” I explain. “I may need your help but I won’t be marginalized. I’m running this investigation and if you want in, you’ll come with me to Metropolis and we’ll get the evidence together.”
His eyes narrow in contemplation and the silence stretches out between us as he mulls over my terms. I find myself holding my breath until he nods, deciding to go along. “I’m going to need something substantive to convince my editor. What have you got?
“I’ve been able to plant surveillance devices in his office and have recorded some of his ‘business’ deals over the past few weeks. I know, recordings are inadmissible – hard documentation is where I need help. We’ve been able to get a few tidbits, but his network security is too tight.”
“If you’re in a position to plant bugs, why do you need me?”
“While I’ve been able to poke around a little, I’m too closely watched to do any real digging. That’s where you come in.”
“Who exactly are we talking about Lelaine? I need a name.”
I lift my eyes from where they’d been focused somewhere to his left and meet his intense gaze. “The Boss is Lex Luthor.”
His eyebrows climb until his forehead puckers with skepticism. “Lex Luthor, the wealthy philanthropist and business magnate, *that* Lex Luthor?”
“That’s the one.”
“And you know this because…?”
I can’t speak. My terrible failure to see through Lex's deception assails me again and the embarrassment is almost more than I can bear. Clark doesn’t say anything; he just waits until I can work up the courage to answer his question. I clear my throat.
“I know this because I married him.”
If I thought he was surprised before, that was nothing to the look of stunned amazement on his face now. “Whoa.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but he’s very good and covering his tracks. You’ve got to believe me.”
“I believe you.”
My breath escapes in relieved huff; he believes me. I can hardly describe the feeling his statement gives me. I hadn’t even known how weighted down my heart felt until his words set it free to float on a concoction of gratitude and relief.
His simple declaration halts my persuasive argument. I had it all planned out; laying out what little evidence we’d gathered to convince him, but his acceptance takes me by surprise. I stare into the depth of his eyes, trying to puzzle out the reason he’s taking the word of an unknown woman dressed in an old stocking cap and dirty flannel shirt.
“Without a shred of evidence, you’ll just take my word for it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because you're Lois Lane.”
Hot tears prick the back of my eyes and a lump grows in my throat at his bald statement, as if being Lois Lane is all the proof he needs. I can’t help it; his confidence in me, especially after being fooled by Lex, is indescribable. I look away while I struggle with my emotions until his next statement makes me laugh.
“Wow.”
“You have a gift for understatement, Clark. Metropolis’s four-times man-of-the-year turns out to be the biggest crook in the country and that’s all you can say?”
“No, you misunderstand. I can’t believe I’m meeting *the* Lois Lane in person. I followed your work religiously and was looking forward to meeting you. I was on my way to Metropolis to interview with Perry White for a job when the Daily Planet took a financial turn. Losing it was a great loss.”
“You have no idea,” I mumble under my breath, feeling that familiar ache of loss in my chest.
He touches my arm briefly drawing my attention back to his compassionate eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I look away and rub my hands up and down my arms to ward off the sudden chill. Some part of me recognizes that the bleakness is coming from inside me, but I blame it on the weather. Whoever coined the phrase ‘sunny California’ definitely wasn’t from San Francisco. I don’t know which is colder, the biting wind or the penetrating fog. At least I have the stocking cap.
Clark seems to sense my need to change the subject. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but I remember hearing somewhere that you don’t work with partners.”
“What I said before is true; I’m too closely watched to be effective.”
“You really want me in on this with you?”
“Yes. I’ve been reading your stuff. It’s still a little soft for my tastes, but you’re a pretty good investigator, Clark.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Also,” I continue, ignoring the irony in his voice, “I need someone who’s not afraid to go all in after the big story. We’ll need it to survive.”
“If half the rumors I’ve heard about the Boss are true, I can’t wait to bring him to justice.”
“So, partners?” I ask.
“Partners,” he agrees.
We shake on it and he flashes that brilliant smile again and it feels like a ray of warm sunshine breaking through the overcast sky. His grip is strong and reassuring, so much so that I don’t want to let go. Given how attractive he is, both physically and intellectually, I could see myself coming to rely on Clark's strength, rather than on my own abilities – and that scares me. It’s a weakness I can’t afford.
Uncomfortable, I release his hand and clear my throat, trying to get myself back on track again. “So, you’ll come with me to Metropolis?”
He nods. “I’ll need a little time to fill in my editor, but yes. When do you want to meet?”
“The best time for me to leave is just after the maid cleans the hotel suite tomorrow. I’ll leave an anonymous ransom note that shouldn’t be found until the following morning. We should be able to get started the day after tomorrow in Metropolis.”
“A ransom note?”
“Yes, investigating Superman was my excuse for being in San Francisco, but I need a new cover-story to disappear; what better than a kidnapping?”
“You’re investigating Superman, too?”
His brusque tone and rigid posture tell me what he thinks of that idea, so I rush to reassure him; I’m not out to steal his story. “No. Although I must say that if I weren’t so intent on toppling Lex’s empire, my curiosity would be piqued. Lex is obsessed with knowing Superman’s strengths and weaknesses. I manipulated Lex into thinking I’d expose Superman for a fraud so I could come here to meet you.”
“*Do* you think he’s a fraud?”
I shrug. “There’s too much evidence to dispute the superpowers. As for his character – I don’t know. His actions have been noble so far, but how can I say whether he’s to be trusted? No one knows his motivation for helping.”
“Maybe he feels a responsibility to help simply because he can.”
“In my experience, no one is that altruistic. And if he has nothing to hide, then why all the mystery? Where did he come from, why is he here, is he alone, what gives him the superpowers? Come on, Clark, don’t you want to know?”
“Yeah, I do,” he answers wistfully.
“In my experience, everyone has an angle, especially men. If I knew his, he might be easy to figure out.” Clark looks so grim that I feel bad for indirectly putting him down. Clark’s outlook on life is refreshing and I realize that he might just be the last honest man, trusting and optimistic. “You surprised me though.”
He blushes furiously and ducks his head, showing me he heard my softly uttered words. He looks away almost guiltily. “I have my faults,” he admits. “No one is perfect.”
I agree with him, but I find his humility endearing. I reach into my bag and pull out a sheet of paper. “These are my travel arrangements under an assumed name. If you have a cover ID, you should use it. If you don’t, I’ll get you one. Here’s the address of the suite in Metropolis we’re using for research. It’s a dingy hole, but it’s convenient and someplace Lex would never think to look. If you can, meet me there tomorrow evening and we’ll get started.”
I flick off the scrambler and shoulder my pack to leave, but stop when he catches me by the wrist. “Why don't I pull everything I can from the morgue today and we can get started tonight? My place?”
I feel my heart thump heavily at the feel of his hand on my skin. I tell myself that I’m excited because he’s as eager as I am to expose Lex. I know that’s not the only reason for my racing pulse, but I refuse to examine any deeper meaning.
“Sounds good," I nod. “I’ll see you at six o’clock.”
“Wait.” He tears off a strip of paper and writes an address on it. “Here’s my address.”
I look at the paper and try to smother a laugh. I don’t bother to take it.
“I already know where you live, Clark. The soup kitchen you recommended was superb.”
~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~
tbc...
