Eight

Lex Luthor railed at the indignity of being placed in a cell like a common criminal. The Cuban authorities were having none of it. Didn't they realize who they had? The man who nearly destroyed the U.S. east coast. The man who nearly killed Superman? The greatest criminal genius of this or any other century?

Luthor and Kitty Kowalski had been picked up off their tiny island by a fishing boat three days before, hungry and dehydrated. Despite Luthor's promises of riches, the fishermen took the two fugitives back to Havana, where the government, instead of rewarding him for crippling a major U.S. city, threw him in prison cell and notified the U.S. State Department of his capture.

-O-O-O-

The news hit the wire services late morning. Castro's government was willing to turn Luthor over to the U.S. in exchange for opening trade negotiations with Washington.

-O-O-O-

Lois read the bulletin as soon as it came in. She dialed Clark's cell phone. "They've found Luthor and his woman friend!" she announced as soon as he picked up.

"Where?" Clark demanded. Lois was surprised at his abrupt tone, but then Clark had been surprising her a lot the last few days.

" Havana, Cuba. They're being held at the Clovedeo prison complex. How'd the interview go?"

"Fine. I'll tell you about it later. Did he have anything with him when he was found? Did he have the crystals from the fortress?"

"There's nothing in the bulletin about it. Maybe they're just not saying, or he may have hidden them somewhere," Lois suggested. "Or he may have lost them while escaping from New Krypton."

"Well, there's no way of knowing without talking to him."

Alarms went off in Lois's head. "Clark Kent, you are not heading off to Cuba to interview Lex Luthor. Not without me."

"I have no intention of going to Cuba, Lois," Clark assured her. "Besides, isn't it still illegal? But I'm betting Superman will be there shortly. And he has a serious bone to pick with that bastard."

" Clark, are you okay? I've never heard you like this, and after this morning..."

"I'm okay, really. And I'm really sorry about blowing up at you. I don't know what happened. But just knowing what the misuse of Kryptonian technology did, having those crystals missing, scares the hell out of me."

"Scares the hell out of all of us," Lois admitted.

"Lois, I need to be someplace. I'll see you later."

"Uh, Clark, what about that interview with Eldon Stoner?" Lois asked.

"Lois, goodbye."

Just above the Daily Planet, Superman turned off Clark Kent's cell phone and tucked it into his belt at the small of his back where it would be hidden by his cape.

-O-O-O-

Superman landed just outside the prison where Lois had said Luthor was being held. Armed guards came out, stopping short when they recognized him.

"Señor Superman," Captain Gregorio Mendez called. In an instant, Superman's mind clicked over into Spanish. It was a faculty STAR Labs had not been able to fully explain, but Superman suspected was another bit of Jor-El's training to help him survive on Earth. He only needed a few phrases of spoken language to begin understanding it. A day's exposure and he could hold a conversation. Three days of full submersion and he was talking like a native.

"What are you doing in Cuba?" Captain Mendez asked, leading the way into the building's office.

Superman noted the security cameras that were in place as he followed Mendez. "Looking for some items that were stolen from me by Lex Luthor. A set of crystals about 25 centimeters long."

"He had nothing like that with him when he was turned over to us," Mendez assured him. "When the fishermen were interrogated, they did not mention finding any crystals."

"May I to speak to him?"

Mendez was dismayed. "But, he's not here. A man from your State Department came with papers from the president's office, releasing him into their custody."

"Did you get his name?

"Fletcher. Adam Fletcher"

"How long ago did they leave?"

"Less than an half an hour ago. Fletcher said they were flying him straight to Metropolis."

"I see," Superman commented, mostly to himself, then to Mendez: "I assume you confirmed the orders with the president's office."

"Of course."

"May I have a copy of the papers you were given?"

"Certainly, Señor Superman." Mendez gave orders to one of the guards to photocopy the papers and give them to their visitor.

"And if it's not too much trouble, may I see the playback from your security cameras covering the transfer?"

"Of course."

Mendez opened the door to a nearby room where several uniformed men were watching a wall filled with video surveillance monitors. "We have the most up-to-date security system available," Mendez boasted.

"I'm sure it is. Could you replay the recording?"

Within minutes, the recording appeared on a desktop monitor. Luthor looked tired, angry, dressed in prison overalls, but it was the other man, Fletcher, that sent chills down Superman's spine. He was older than Superman remembered, a heavyset man with graying hair and a hint of an Australian accent. The man's real name, at least the name that came up in his research, was Alec Freeman and he was a senior operative of SHADO. Former RAF officer, Freeman had been seconded to SHADO at its founding and was one of the lead suspects in both the arms dealing and a series of murders that seemed designed to cover up SHADO's continued existence.

"May I have a copy of that as well?" Superman asked. Mendez nodded yes. "The woman, Katherine Kowalski, did they take her, too?"

"No, sir. She's still here. Would you like to speak to her?"

"Yes, please."

Mendez led the way to a small isolated cell toward the back of the building. Kitty Kowalski sat huddled in one corner. She looked exhausted, worn out, and far older than her twenty-five years.

"Señor Luthor kept threatening to kill her," Mendez explained. "So we felt she would be safer here."

"Miss Kowalski?" Superman said.

Kitty looked up and after a long moment, the identity of the person standing beyond the bars registered on her mind. "Superman?" She struggled to her feet. "Are you here to get me out? Please, take me away from here."

"Miss Kowalski, where are the crystals Luthor stole from me?"

" Crystals?"

"Yes, the ones you and Luthor took from the Arctic and used to create that abomination he was going to use to destroy billions of people."

"I left them there," Kitty said.

"Where?"

She looked up at him, confused. "On Lex's new continent. I dropped them there." They're still on New Krypton. They may as well be on Krypton itself, for all I can do about it.

"Why?"

She studied his face, looking for some clue as to what he was after. "I didn't want Lex to use them again."

"What happened to the other men who were with you?"

"Dead. The whole place started falling apart and some of the big pillars fell on them. Are you going to get me out of here?"

"Miss Kowalski, please tell me why I should?"

She looked confused. "You're Superman. You help people. That's what you do."

"You stood there and did nothing while Luthor and his men tried to beat me to death and when Luthor stabbed me in the back. You did nothing when Luthor attempted to murder an innocent woman and a five year-old child. You did nothing when Luthor tried to destroy the planet and billions of people... Please, tell me again why I should help you get out of here?"

Kitty just looked at him.

He turned on his heel and walked out.

As soon as he and Mendez were out of earshot. "Captain, if it's possible, could you move her to somewhere more congenial?"

"Superman, I heard what you said to her," Mendez said. "Considering what she did, what kind of woman she is, why would you help her?"

"It's what I do," Superman said with a smile. "Thank you very much for your help, Captain."

Mendez watched in awe as Superman started to fly away, then stopped in mid air, turning to look back at the Cuban officer. "Captain, you wouldn't happen to know which landing strip they used when taking Luthor away?"

"There's a military strip about five kilometers north of here," Mendez told him. "I believe that's where they went."

Superman nodded thanks and then sped away five kilometers north.

The airstrip was lightly manned. The guard told him a Cessna Citation III, with USAF markings had taken off only half an hour before. Superman headed ten miles up and north to search for the plane with Luthor on it. There was no sign of it.

-O-O-O-

Colonel Alec Freeman of SHADO, alias Adam Fletcher, AKA too many other names to mention, picked up the radio-phone in the control cabin of the Citation III. After several satellite re-routings and encryption protocols, he heard the other end of the line pick up.

"We have the package," he announced.

"Any problems I should know about?"

"Smooth as glass. We'll be taking off again in a few minutes and we'll be in Metropolis in about 4 hours."

"Check in as soon as you land. I'll have our people meet you."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, good job, Alec."

"Thanks," Freeman said as he rung off.

The man known as Eldon Stoner hung up the private phone in his office at STAR labs. His ice blue eyes glittered in anticipation. The Kryptonian technology was almost in his grasp, and as soon as it was, Superman would be nothing more than a bad memory.

-O-O-O-

Back in Metropolis, Clark walked into the bullpen at the Daily Planet. Richard was still in the conference room. He didn't see Lois. Jason was curled up a corner, reading a book.

"Richard, has anything come over the wire about Luthor being transferred to U.S. custody already?"

Richard looked up at him. "No, why?"

"Because Luthor was flown out of Havana about forty-five minutes ago on a jet with USAF markings, supposedly by a member of the U.S. State Department by the name of Adam Fletcher."

"How do you know that?"

"Superman," Clark said. He pulled out the CD Mendez had made and handed it to Richard. "This is a copy of the security record at the prison Luthor was being held at."

Richard placed the CD in the conference room computer and opened the video file.

"Ohmygod, it can't be. Please tell me this is a fake," Richard murmured, watching the video.

"It isn't."

"That's Alec Freeman, isn't it?"

"We'll need to verify it biometrically, but yeah, that's Colonel Alec Freeman," Clark agreed. "SHADO is now in league with Lex Luthor. God only knows what they're up to. And to make matters worse, Superman tried to track down their plane, only it's disappeared, with Freeman and Luthor on board. That particular model has a maximum cruising speed of about 470 mph, and they took off about half an hour before Superman got there. Since I've no reason the believe SHADO has Star Trek cloaking technology, that puts them touching down less than 200 miles from Havana, probably somewhere in Florida."

Richard started sorting through the pile of notes on the conference table. "I saw a list of installations SHADO operated in the eighties somewhere here." After a moment: "Here it is." He read through the list. "They had a supply base in the Florida Keys, a hundred miles from Havana."

"From there they could go anywhere in the country," Clark said.

"You're forgetting about Homeland Security," Lois said as she walked into the room.

Clark gave her a puzzled look.

"Clark, you came back into this country from Shanghai, or wherever, and you didn't notice all the increased security at the airports? They do body cavity searches on suspicious people, for cryin' out loud. Nothing gets through by air without the TSA knowing about it, except maybe Superman."

"Not even military jets?" Clark wondered. "According to the guards at the airstrip, the plane had U.S. Air Force markings when it left Cuba."

"And how do you know that?" Lois asked.

"I told you, Superman was looking for Luthor. Luthor was in Havana."

"So Superman went to Havana," Lois completed for him. "And he just gave you this evidence?"

"In trade for any information we come up with that might lead him to Luthor and the missing crystals," Clark explained. "According to Katherine Kowalski, the crystals were left on New Krypton when she and Luthor escaped."

"And you believe her?"

"I don't know," Clark admitted. "If she is telling the truth, it means the crystals are gone. There's no safe way I can think of for Superman to retrieve them. And if she's lying, I don't even want to think about the consequences. Especially since Luthor is now in the hands of SHADO. And I can't think of a worse combination right now, can you?"

Lois just glared at him.

"Uh, Lois," Richard interrupted before Lois could start up again. After nearly six years, he recognized the warning signs of Lois on empty. Clark didn't stand a chance, and if he really was stressed to the breaking point... "Have you had anything to eat today?"

Lois gave him a blank look.

"Thought so," Richard commented. "I'm positive he hasn't eaten at all today either. You know, it's a wonder that the two of you didn't starve to death when you were working together. I've never met two people who are less in tune with their bodies than the two of you. You don't remember to eat and he's worse than you are. He forgets to eat and sleep."

"I think I was in charge of feeding Lois back then," Clark said with a sheepish grin. "I kind of figured that was your job now."

"But who's in charge of you?" Richard shook his head with a grin and started putting the papers on the table into file folders so he could put them into Perry's office safe. "We can get a fresh start on this tomorrow," he said. "It's time for lunch, or for the two of you, breakfast. Then home." He stabbed a finger in Clark's direction. "You need some time off. I don't want to see you in here until after your appointment with Kraus."

Clark started to respond but Richard cut him off. "No 'buts'. By the way, I found Emil Duvall and a couple former members of the IAC. Duvall's in a nursing home, but I have an appointment to go out and talk to him tomorrow morning."

"I was trying to forget about Kraus," Clark said. "If you don't mind, I'm just going to head home, try to get some sleep." He turned to pack up his laptop.

" Clark, tomorrow we need to sit down and talk, the four of us," Lois said. She glanced meaningfully at Jason, sitting in the corner.

"Sure, but I'm okay with whatever you decide. I mean... " his voice faltered. He wasn't really sure what he meant. "Tomorrow."

"See ya' tomorrow, Unca' Clark," Jason said with a big grin.

"See ya' tomorrow, sport," Clark said, finally leaving for the day.

Lois turned to Richard. "Why do I think Jason's already decided for us?"

"Ya' think?"

-O-O-O-

Clark did not go to his apartment immediately. Instead, he flew high above the city, listening, watching. SHADO and Luthor were on the move. He knew it, even though he had absolutely no proof of anything. It simply made sense.

The sunlight was stronger at this height. It bathed him with healing energy and he started to feel stronger, better, than he had since leaving Smallville. The ache in his back finally receded to an unpleasant memory and soon, even the scar would be gone – he hoped. Recovering from kryptonite poisoning was unpredictable at best, and this was the first time he'd actually been cut by the mineral. It was just possible it would never completely heal. He didn't want to think about that.

He rode the air currents, dozing off and on for several hours, thinking, dreaming. Before, he'd only needed an hour or so of sleep a night, mostly for dreaming. Since the stabbing, he'd been needing far more than that.

It felt good to be away from other people's needs for a while. Then there was the stab of guilt at putting his own needs above those of the planet he'd pledged to protect so long ago. But if I don't take care of myself, how can I help anyone else?

Night was falling over Metropolis. There was the rumbling of a quake near Coast City. The epicenter was inland – no tsunami threat. An earthen dam in Thailand was threatening to breach, an apartment fire in Moscow, a wild fire in Oregon that was threatening a housing development. Why did they insist on building so close to dangerous places? Ten muggings, a lost child, and a bank robbery. All in all, a quiet day on Planet Earth.

Evening mass was just getting over at Sacred Heart Church in Metropolis, one of the oldest churches in the city. He landed softly behind the church and changed into his street clothes. The sign board next to one of the winged lions that guarded the entrance of the granite Romanesque church indicated Father Daniel Leone was still rector. Clark waited in the shadows until the church was empty then walked across the street to the rectory, a brownstone that dated back to the early parts of the last century. Lights still shown through the main floor windows as he climbed the short flight of steps to the door.

At his knock, a young man opened the door, peering up at Clark incuriously. "Can I help you?"

"Is Father Daniel around? I'm Clark Kent."

The young man ushered Clark into a side parlor and disappeared. Clark looked around the room. Little had changed over the years. The sofa had been replaced and there was a new rug under the coffee table. He stood a moment, reflecting. He'd met Father Daniel, how long ago? Nine years or so, not long after Superman made his first famous appearance in Metropolis, when he rescued Lois Lane and the Daily Planet news copter.

There'd been an explosion and fire in a child care center. Superman hadn't been able to get there in time and a dozen small children had died horribly. The emergency workers at the site had assured him at the time that he had done all that could have been done. He hadn't been convinced, and he'd had no one to talk to, no one he trusted besides Mom, and he knew this was one discussion he did not want to share with her. So many tiny bodies, and for what? So a disgruntled non-custodial parent could collect insurance and get revenge on his ex?

He'd frightened Father Daniel half out of his wits when he showed up in the middle of the empty church one evening after mass as Superman, wanting, needing, to talk, to confess that he wasn't sure he was up to the task he'd chosen to accept. He hadn't known, could not have known, that Daniel had his own demons, cancer being one of them. But their talk had helped and Clark had found someone he could trust, someone he could talk to, someone who understood, at least a little bit, the burden of knowing how much pain and need there was in the world.

After a few months Clark Kent the reporter actually started attending services occasionally and discovered he found comfort in both the ceremony and the community.

A tall slender man with the face of a boxer and close-cropped hair walked in. Father Daniel was far thinner, and grayer than Clark remembered. The past six years had not been kind to the older man.

" Clark, I was wondering when you'd wander in," Daniel said with a wide grin. "I saw your byline in the Planet."

"It's been busy, what with Luthor and all," Clark explained.

"Want some coffee?" Daniel asked, beckoning Clark to follow him back to the kitchen.

"Sure."

The kitchen was large, with a breakfast table at one end. Coffee was brewing, and Clark scanned the cabinets to find coffee cups. Finding them, he pulled out two mugs.

"So, what has been happening? I read Miss Lane's article on Superman," Daniel finally said as Clark poured coffee and brought both mugs to the table. He remembered that Daniel liked his coffee black.

"Where to begin? My mom is moving to Montana with her boyfriend. I found out my girlfriend was pregnant and didn't tell me before I left, assuming she knew, so she now has a son and has found a man to take care of her and her son. I don't have a place in her life any more, really. And please don't give me the 'responsibility' lecture. My mom's beat you to it."

"I wouldn't dream of giving you that lecture," Daniel said, stifling a grin. "But I really want to meet your mother one of these days... So, what else?"

"Oh, I got stabbed in the back last week and I should be dead. I really, really want to pop Luthor's head off his body, and my boss thinks I'm suffering from post traumatic stress."

"Are you?"

"By all rights I probably should be," Clark said, sipping his coffee. "But no, I don't think so, at least, not as bad as it would be if..."

"So what's the problem then?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe I just need a reality check. I almost decided to not come back, not put the suit back on. Just go to work everyday, and not worry about the rest of the world."

"Couldn't do it, could you?"

Clark shook his head. "No. I heard a cry for help, and I had to respond. There was no choice. My personal trinity: 'Save me...'" He didn't voice the final word: Superman.

"There's always a choice," Daniel corrected. "No one forced you to take up that mantle again."

"And if I hadn't, there wouldn't be a Metropolis standing here, billions of people would be dead."

"It's not easy having a vocation like that," Daniel commented. He recognized the conversation. It had been on ongoing theme in their talks long before Clark disappeared to find Krypton.

"In Florida, when it was all over and everybody was safe on the ground and the people in the stands started cheering, it felt so good and I realized how much I had missed that."

"Being worshiped?"

Clark was horrified. "No, of course not. But it does feel nice to be recognized, appreciated, even if I don't necessarily deserve anything. I mean police, and firemen... every time they get a call, they're on the firing line. Me, there's not a lot that can hurt me. I certainly don't deserve to be called a hero, and definitely not a savior."

" Clark, I read the Planet. You nearly died."

"My own fault. I went into the situation without looking. It was a stupid mistake. I've been making a lot of those recently. When I left, I never considered how hard it would be to come back. I tell people I haven't changed, the world's changed but not me, but I'm lying. I've forgotten how to fit in. I've forgotten how to be ' Clark'."

"Coming home is always hard. And it's even harder when you discover your vocation might not be all it's cracked up to be. But you'd go ahead, even without recognition, wouldn't you?"

"Probably... yes. I forgot how good you are at reading minds," Clark mused.

"Just expressions and body language," Daniel corrected with a smile. "You have a calling, and I think you'd've made a good priest."

"I'm too flighty," Clark made a swooshing gesture with his hand. "Besides, my calling seems to be as a journalist. Truth and Justice. You can't have one without the other. And the power of the press is a remarkable thing. They say one person can't change the world, but one person with a printing press..." Clark stopped. He'd started preaching and Daniel was giving him a bemused look.

"Thanks, Daniel," Clark said, getting up and placing the two coffee mugs in the sink. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Pray for an old sinner?"

"So long as you'll pray for a not so old one."

"Always, Clark. You're always in my prayers, and have been since we met."

"Thank you."