Luthor couldn't help but smile as he turned up the volume on his television and listened to the news anchor speak.
"Evacuations continue on the island of Themiscyra, which was thrown into turmoil after the island's small male population revolted against the matriarchal government."
The pieces were falling into place, and the businessman knew that it was only a matter of time before he'd be able to move forward.
"The already economically strained Greek government is expected to spend millions housing and feeding the thousands of refugees from the small island, which, until now, had only received limited contact with the outside world."
As the anchor spoke, the image changed to a video of crowds climbing off of enormous cargo ships, and being led into camps with barbed wire fences on all sides.
"The decision to intervene in the affairs of the once sovereign nation has been met with criticism. Greece's Prime Ministers stands by his choice, saying that 'The people here are Greek citizens, and we will work to make sure that they receive the rights they are entitled to.' However, some have speculated that one, if not multiple third parties may have played a hand in the decision."
"Mercy, pack my essentials and get the Learjet ready," Luthor said, pressing a button on his intercom. "And tell LexCorp's Athens branch that I'll be coming for an extended stay."
To say that the queen of Themiscyra felt insulted would have been putting it lightly.
"I don't know who this wretched fool is that assigned me to these quarters, but I will find and punish them!"
Her handmaidens had heard this rant many times before, and, just as they always had, they smiled and nodded, reassuring her that her accommodations, which were the same size as everyone else's, were not befitting of royalty.
"All they do is pile insult upon injury," the queen said, holding the identification card that the Greek customs officer had assigned her. It had been printed only weeks after the men of her domain had revolted and days after her queendom had been dismantled. "Diana Prince" was the name on the plastic card, and the irony had not escaped her.
"I will not stand for this much longer." She charged through the tent flaps, and every person moved from her path. This was in part due to her wild temper, but mostly due to the xiphos on her hip, which customs had allowed her to keep on the grounds of it being an ancient heirloom.
"Your majesty, perhaps it would be best if we remained indoors."
"Yes, your majesty. Outside, you are very exposed."
"Nonsense. We have nothing to fear from these heathens." She pointed her sword directly at the soldiers watching the fence. Every single one was heavily armed, and had a single word written across their vest, "LexCorp".
"Men cannot be true warriors. They are too brutish and slow."
"That may be true, your majesty, but-" The handmaiden stopped and stared in complete shock as a piece of rotting fruit struck their queen in the head.
"Who dares to assault me?!"
"To Hades with you, tyrant!" screamed a group of men. The men and women of Themiscyra had been kept in different camps, with guard towers and extra fences in between them. However, that didn't stop the males from showing their displeasure towards their queen.
"Die, oppressor!"
"May Cerberus devour you!"
The queen refused to allow them to insult her. "Those will be your last words!" she cried, before drawing her xiphos and hacking through the metal fence, as if it were tissue paper.
The men ran at the sight of the queen charging towards them, but there was no need. Her vision became clouded when a dart filled with sedatives struck her in the arm. A second tranquilizer dropped her to her knees, but it took a third to finally stop her from crawling toward the fence, sword outstretched.
"She's completely nuts."
"Should we drag her back?"
"I'm not touching her as long as she's holding that sword. Get a drone to do it."
Cold metal pincers locked around the queen's waist, and soon one of the hovering robots was pulling her back to her tent, in front of all her subjects.
As the women crowded around to see their once proud queen drugged and docile, the royal heiress saw anger on all of them, and it only grew as the soldiers spread throughout the crowds, shouting about punishment for their leader's behavior and the cutting of rations.
The queen sat in her tent for hours, waiting for the drugs to wear off.
Eventually, her handmaidens returned, and she asked them, bluntly, "What were those men talking about, when they spoke of rations?"
"Well, your majesty, our food supplies are limited."
"When did this happen? I have not felt the effects of any food shortage."
The handmaidens looked at one another before tentatively revealing, "It has been a problem since we arrived here, and our supplies have only shrunk since then."
"You kept me in the dark? Why would you not tell me of this?" She cried, reaching for her sheathe, and then picking up the nearest blunt object when she realized that her sword had been stolen.
Seeing the Handmaidens cower in fear filled the queen with a sense of pride, but also reminded her of the angry subjects who had stared at her with hatred in their eyes.
Perhaps it was the realization that violence wouldn't solve all of her problems, or perhaps it was the sedatives, but the queen put down her weapon, and stepped away.
She picked up an ornate shield from her bedside, and looked at herself in its reflection.
"I was caught off guard by the revolt and then unable to defend my people from the battleships that came to our borders. I will not fail my people again. Go out amongst them, and tell everyone to stay strong. I must leave to find out why these strangers have pulled us away from our island."
"Your majesty, are you sure that that is a good idea?"
"Where would you even start looking?"
She pulled a new sword from a nearby chest and once again barged through the tent flaps, but this time, she pointed her weapon at a new target.
"That building must be where the soldiers and the boats came from, for it bears the same strange words upon it. I am going to the place known as 'LexCorp'."
"Approaching the podium is Lex Luthor, owner of LexCorp," the Prime Minister announced, before his guest was allowed to speak. "Please note that Mr. Luthor does, in fact, have business interests surrounding this debate, which shall be noted for the record."
The businessman stepped up to the microphone, as the stenographers continued to pound on their keyboards and translators prepared to interpret his message to the men of the Greek Parliament. Luthor's translator spoke to him through his earpiece, allowing the businessman to stand alone at the podium. He didn't like sharing the spotlight.
"So, tell us, Mr. Luthor. What have you come here to say?"
"Well, the truth is, Prime Minister, everything I plan to say, you already know." The members of Parliament looked at each other in confusion.
"You already know that a woman has to right to choose how she lives her life. You already know that modern women are strong and independent. However, to me, the most important and fulfilling thing that a woman can ever do is become a mother. It wasn't just men who were being oppressed on the island of Themiscyra, through servitude, it was also women who were being kept under the thumb of a tyrannical regime, by never being given the choice to become mothers. Instead, they were forced to be warriors and providers, and never allowed to consider the valid life choice of becoming a loving wife and homemaker."
The mumblings of the politicians sounded like gibberish to most, but Luthor could read their lips and faces, and he knew that he had struck a chord with them.
"We should not even be considering sending these poor souls back to their homeland, for to do so would be sentencing them to a life of slavery. It is the duty of this government to ensure that every citizen is given choice in how they live their lives, and to assume that every single one of these women was happy with the masculine role that society forced on them would be ridiculous, would it not?"
Luthor fought not to smile. Even though the Prime Minister was doing his best to keep a straight face, his subtle body language betrayed him. He'd eaten up every word.
"Mr. Luthor, I will not indicate towards my own personal leanings, as that would be unethical, but, hypothetically, if the people of Themiscyra were to remain in Athens, their care would be expensive. Since you have such strong feelings on this subject, would you be willing to donate a piece of your fortune to help clothe and house these people?"
"Well, I'm not sure that I would be capable of doing that. My finances are diversified. They're tied up in stock, foreign markets and things of that nature. I'm sure you understand. However, I do believe that LexCorp could offer assistance, in trade."
"Has that been your goal all along, Luthor? To extort us?"
"Of course not. I may be wealthy, but I don't just leave millions of dollars lying around my house, and acquiring it from my own company for a personal project, no matter how charitable, would be embezzlement. A small trade would be legally required in order for me to help."
"I see your point, but what is it that you will ask of us?"
This time, Luthor couldn't help but smile.
"Something easy. Something free. Something insignificant. Something that won't cost your taxpayers a dime. Something that technically hasn't been owned by Greece since the rise of the Roman Empire. Something that would just sit idle otherwise. The island of Themiscyra."
He strode out of the room feeling especially proud. It would take a few days for the paperwork to be drawn up, but the plan was underway.
Luthor climbed into his limousine, where two others were waiting for him. His assistant, Mercy, was, as always, dressed professionally, but with a button up shirt that she could easily open or close, depending on whether sexuality or threats would get her what she needed.
"I'd say that went well," she told him.
"Yes, better than expected."
"We've been having some trouble down at the camp. A few of the warriors from Themiscyra have been getting rowdy and cutting through the fences. We'll need to beef up security if LexCorp is going to maintain those security contracts."
"How much are they worth?"
"After fees and taxes, our profit will be approximately $200,000 per month."
"That's it? Did you cut the cost of supplies, like I asked?"
"We've been using the cheapest food suppliers we can find, and looking for any reason to cut their rations."
"See if you can use the warrior's aggression to extort a few more cents out of the Prime Minister. Tell him that the more dangerous they are, the higher the cost of holding them will be. Anything less than $500,000 isn't worth getting out of bed for."
"I agree, which is why I question why you choose to cut into your profit margin by hiring…" Mercy glanced at the third person sitting in the car. "By hiring extra security."
"Security? I thought I was just here to be your translator," the man said, sarcastically. He pulled an earpiece with a microphone out of his trench coat and tossed it in Luthor's lap.
"Oh, you're much more than that. My guards can handle those warriors, but before the revolt, my moles on Themiscyra brought back some rather… interesting reports about their queen. I don't think she'll stay in captivity for long, and I need you to be ready to stop her."
"Well, killing royalty is my specialty."
The limousine pulled into LexCorp's sublevel, and the three passengers climbed out.
"It's only a matter of time before she tries to escape, so wait down by the camp," Luthor told the man in the trench coat. Now that he stood up, Mercy could see how bulky he looked. No doubt from some form of armor he wore beneath his trench coat.
"Mr. Luthor!" said the driver, climbing out of the car. "I've been ordered to get you out of here. The most recent headcount at the camp says that they're missing someone."
"Well, that didn't take long."
"I'm surprised she didn't make more of a scene," said Luthor. "It seems like she might be taking a more subtle approach than I had anticipated. Wait here for her."
"Where are you going to go?"
"Probably to dinner, and then a five star hotel. I'm craving steak."
Luthor and Mercy climbed back inside the car, and as the two of them drove away, Mercy looked back and saw the mercenary putting on a purple helmet and drawing a white nightstick from his coat.
