Nairomi, Africa

9 Months After The Black Zero Event

Most people would be terrified of being stuck in her shoes. Being in the middle of a war-torn, East African country where the scorching sun is just as liable to kill you as a bullet from one of a dozen of the warring factions vying for power. Driving in a car full of people who perpetuate the sorry state of the country through fear and horrid violence with a black hood over your head and a gun ready to blow your brains out at any moment. Venturing off into the heart of this hostile land to speak with a known and cruel murderer.

Most people would be terrified, most people never went there, but Lois Lane was not like most people.

As an army brat, traveling became a necessity for her, to not travel every so often was the same as being choked. The presence of guns didn't deter her either, her father made it a point to teach her how to use any number of them. Especially when she told her parents she wanted to become a reporter. A real one, not the kind who sit back surfing the information superhighway, but one ready to throw herself into the middle of a third world war to get to the truth.

A pursuit that made her quite a pain in the neck to those around her sometimes, even her boyfriend, the most powerful man in the world. Something she found irresistibly cute about him.

She couldn't tell how much time had passed since she, and her new photographer, Heron, were driving by that point. The black bags over their heads made it impossible to see anything of the outside world. The militiamen around her said nothing, neither did the surprising addition to her crew. When she arrived there, she expected to find Jimmy Olsen waiting for her, a young man of 26 years with brown hair, thick beard, and a chatty mouth. Something he quickly learned to keep shut whenever he was on assignment with her.

That's why she picked him. That, and he was a damn good photographer, managing to capture Superman in action at moments where most people would simply find him a blur of red and blue motion. She had no idea how good this Heron was, and for an interview with the infamous as General Amajagh, she wanted the best.

She felt the car slow down, the bumping growing weaker and weaker and the previously loud engine growing quieter. Now, she could hear people talk around her in a language she didn't understand, some older, some younger, some female. When it came to a screeching halt, the men in the car opened the doors with one of them grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out of the vehicle.

The harsh wind blasted her, helping to keep the scorching sun's heat at bay a little. She found it a refreshing after sitting in a cramped, un-air-conditioned car. The locals, however, as per the warning of an older man who gave her and Heron some Coca-Cola just ahead of the militias arrival, didn't agree. The powerful wind to them was an ill omen, the foretelling of a bloody sky.

Her escort barked at her and Heron again, pushing them down to their knees. The bags were pulled off, temporarily blinding the duo as the sun blasted them in the faces. The first thing Lois saw was a man in black combat gear standing a few feet ahead of her. In stark contrast to the more meager and obvious militia soldiers around him, he stood out thanks to his lighter skin color, lengthy yet slid back hair and more advanced looking weaponry and a detached demeanor in comparison to the less refined militia.

All around the place she spotted similarly dressed men standing guard, observing her and Heron intently, their hands never moving away from their rifles or pistols.

They're mercenaries, She immediately realized, given the diamond-rich areas controlled by General Amajagh and his men, she knew it would be a simple task for him to acquire guns for hire to bolster his ranks. Especially well equipped and professional mine like these. It was a standard practice all over Africa for militant leaders.

If Amajagh had control over the oil fields as well, he'd likely be running the country by now.

As if he staged it, the moment his name crossed her mind, the man bearing it came walking out of a nearby house, flanked by two soldiers armed with AK-47s. His demeanor stood out from everyone else's', the armed men around the place remained stiff and ready for action at any moment, the General, on the other hand, with his black sunglasses and sly smile, appeared completely casual in these tense surroundings.

For a moment, Lois felt their gazes met and with a smirk, he waved her over to the spot where he sat on a well-decorated chair. Cautiously, she approached him, taking her journal and notes out with slow, deliberate movements. Just by glancing at the men around her, she knew they didn't want her here and would look for any excuse to rid themselves of her should she present a problem.

She returned his smile and sat just a few feet away from him. "Um," She begins, glancing down at her journal and readying her pen for writing. Most reporters preferred to use voice recorders, but Lois' journal was to her what Clark's typewriter was to him: a little piece of journalistic past she couldn't quite get rid of. In spite of Perry's groaning protests.

"Do you consider yourself a terrorist, General?" She cut right to the chase. She expected to hear a passionate speech about how he fought against the corrupt, pro-American government and how he was shaping a better, more liberated future for his people. A recurring theme with him whenever he addressed either the public or the world.

Instead, he leaned forward and gave her something approximating a charming smile. "They did not tell me the interviewer was a lady."

"I'm not a lady, I'm a journalist." She smiled back and nodded her head, he nodded back with a look on his face saying 'fair enough'.

"What I am, Miss Lane," He spoke while taking his sunglasses off, his smile never faltering. "Is but a man with nothing but a love of his people."

"Is that how you're paying for these security contractors, General?" She inquired with a slight tone of accusation. Many other reporters, ones she trusted, told her of how he sentenced his enemies to work in the diamond mines until their bodies failed them. What he also did was sentence their families to the same fates. Revenge was a well known past time in these parts of the world, and by snuffing out the families of his enemies, he ensured no such retribution would come to him.

"It is no different than how you American's do things," He replies with an attempt at keeping his previously laid-back demeanor steady, but this time, Lois noticed how his smile didn't quite seem as genuine as a moment ago. "After all, is that not how you build and pay for the drones that fly over our heads? Attacking us from the sky like gods hurtling thunderbolts?"

"Oh no, you just exposed-" Behind her, Lois hears the blonde haired, surprise reporter Heron complain but doesn't turn around. Her focus was entirely on the general.

"The US government has, on multiple occasions, declared its neutrality in your civil war," She pointed out as if he wasn't aware of these declarations already. "Both in policy and principle. Are you saying these are nothing but lies?"

"More like pious American fiction, spread around as if it were the truth," He chuckled with a hint of resentment in his otherwise casual voice. Then, the features of his face shifted, taking on a more serious but not quite hostile visage. "The real truth of the matter, as I've learned it, is that men with power obey neither policy nor principle, Miss Lane. No one is different, no one is neutral," he leaned a bit closer, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. "And no one... is innocent."

A year ago, Lois might've found herself agreeing with his statement, but as someone who lived with Superman, the most powerful man in the world, she knew it was not always this way. True, Clark did break many international laws and quite a few domestic ones to operate as he did, but he only ever did so with the purpose of helping people. To save them from bank robberies or floods or from frozen wastelands. Never to impose his will on anyone, never to consciously intimidate, and never as an excuse to murder someone.

Men with power did frequently act as Amajagh said, both as individuals and collectively, but Clark was proof that this was far from an absolute truth.

Before she could ask another question, she heard a loud crashing noise behind her and turned to find her photographer go pale. Next, to him, the man with the slid back hair and shades rummaged through the remains of Heron's destroyed camera and from it, picked up a small, blinking device. He turned to one of the older militia troopers standing nearby and coldly said: "It's the CIA, they're tracking us."

In an instant, screams, and yells of outrage burst out from the militia soldiers, the mercenaries kept their cool but Lois noticed them holding onto their weapons just a bit tighter. Amajagh leaped to his feet, taking a pistol from a nearby troopers chest holster. "You're CIA?"

Lois' attention returned to the general who know looked at her accusingly, his fingers removing the safety of his firearm. Immediately, she shook her head and took a step toward him. "No! No! We're just reporters!"

"You brought him here!" He said through gritted teeth, in an instant, Amajagh's arm shot up and she felt the cold barrel of the gun press against her forehead. She found herself at a loss for words at the quickly escalating situation. Then, Heron yelled at the General in the same tongue they spoke in.

Amajagh's attention turned to Heron as he, what Lois could understand given the pleading look on his face, tried to explain himself. One he noticed Amajagh drop his gun, Heron took a more determined tone with the militia leader, no doubt trying to strike a bargain with him if he was really CIA. For a moment, Lois thought that perhaps it would work, that he would let them go without incident. Then, Amajagh's pistol went off, and Heron's head exploded in a gory display of blood and ruined flesh.

As she stared in shock, Lois didn't register the two soldiers forcing her into Amajaghs' house until she was halfway there. She couldn't take her eyes off the dead photographer until Amajagh pushed her in and slammed the door behind him. By then, she regained somewhat from the ordeal and sat down where the militia leader gestured for her to sit.

"I-" She stammered out, nervously meeting the General's gaze. "I didn't know."

"Ignorance," He said, taking a step closer toward her. "Is not the same as innocence Miss Lane."

She looked away, feeling small and vulnerable in the dark lit, one-story house in the same presence as a man who sent women and children to die in the dark corridors of African diamond mines. Yet true fear didn't grip her, she knew he wouldn't let anything happen to her, but this time, in a situation as sensitive as this one, she hoped it wouldn't have to come to that still. He didn't need to find himself in the middle of a disaster such as this, people were hard enough on him already.

When more gunshots echoed through the house, Lois found herself grabbed from behind by Ajamagh who once again pressed the barrel of his pistol against the side of her face while his arms crossed over her chest. The gunfight, if she could call it that from the scant few seconds it occurred it ended just as suddenly as it started. What followed was something else assaulting her senses, not the sound of shots firing, but the smell of smoke... and a horrid stench following it.

Ajamagh dared not leave the house, instead, he walked both of them towards the corner of the room where he could keep an eye on the sole entrance to it. From the outside, she heard the sound of motorcycle engines revving before vanishing off into the distance. Clearly, this was not the CIA coming to her rescue or to avenge Heron or the government launching an assault of their own. In both cases, Ajamagh would've been dead by now.

She heard the sky crack, followed by two explosions going off in the air. In spite of knowing what his presence would cause here, at that moment, Lois couldn't bring herself to care too much about it. She didn't want the barrel of this gun pressing against her head anymore. With a loud crash through the ceiling on the opposite end of the room, he landed and instantly,.Amajagh held her closer than ever before at the sight of the world-famous man with the S adorned on his blue suit.

"Not one step closer freak!" Amajagh roared, the gun barrel practically drilling into Lois' head at this point. "Leave! Or she dies."

Clark looked at his gun, then to him. "You don't-"

"Silence!" He barked, stepping even further away from Clark now. "I'll not have you brainwash me with your... alien words!"

Falling silent, Clark looked disappointed at not being able to defuse the situation with words. As he stood there, Lois noticed him fiddling with something in his hand an instant before she felt something whizz across the air and with a loud thud, hit Ajamagh right in the face. The General's grip on her instantly disappeared and he fell backward, slamming into the wall with a pained moan.

Spinning around, she noticed a large, red mark on his forehead as he lay there, barely conscious. Next, to his face, she found a tiny pebble land on the ground, no bigger than a pinkie toenail. Despite the relief, she couldn't help but worry about him choosing to appear here. "You didn't have to-"

She could practically hear the smile in his voice as he walked up to her. "I did," He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear. "I know we agreed that I shouldn't get involved in things like this... But I couldn't just do nothing."

With a loud sigh, she let herself enjoy the feeling of his strong body around hers, momentarily forgetting about everything that just happened. She knew that with him here, nothing could possibly go wrong. Still, she knew him showing up here was sure to stir trouble back in the states, and the longer he stayed, the worse it would get.

"You've got to go," She advised, suddenly feeling extremely tired.

A moment of silence passed.

"Okay," He turned around to face her. "If anything else happens-"

"You'll be here," She grined momentarily, giving him a light peck on the mouth. "Now go, I doubt I'm the only one who needs rescuing today."

With some reluctance, he did as told and let go of her, flying back out through the opening of the ceiling he just came through and vanishing from the area with another crack of thunder. Outside, another ruckus broke out, this time of more people pleadingly entering into the facility mixed in with the sounds of American men approaching the area.

Cracking the door of the house open cautiously, her stomach almost turned as she found the source of the smoke and stench: a dozen freshly incinerated corpses littering the base at various places. She fough back the urge to vomit and pulled her scarf tightly around herself to fight back the smell. Exiting the building, she noticed many younger and older women entering the place, reaching out to the burned bodies of their husbands or sons or brothers.

In-between them, Lois spotted American troops, no doubt CIA, address the pleading and crying women, while a few others kept their weapons trained for any remaining hostiles. From the corner of her eye, Lois noticed her journal lying in the sand. Still fighting back the desire to puke, she knelt down and took the journal into her hands just as the troops finally reached her.

She didn't know who the men responsible for this massacre were or what they wanted, but with the bullet encased into her book, Lois knew she had a lead, her 15-years experience as a reporter told her as much. The truth was out there for the taking, and she would discover it. For the sake of these people here, and for Clark, who would soon no doubt feel the repercussions of being anywhere close to this place. Because of her.

So yeah, I made Superman not killing the general a lot more clear in this version. In the film, I can see a multitude of ways he could fly him through that without killing him but I felt a clearer way would've shut a lot of "Murderer of Steel!" people up. If you've read N52 Action Comics, specifically the first arc, Superman fires his miniaturized ship through Brainiac like a bullet. Same thing happens here, with Superman obviously just knocking the guy out of course :P

Next time, our first glimpse of the Batman!