Metropolis
Day 63 (Late Morning)
An imposing figure in black and white wingtips and dressed in an immaculately tailored pinstripe suit, Lex Luthor stormed from his lavish top-floor office at just after ten that morning. He shut the door behind him with a great deal more calm than he felt before heading down the long, almost deserted hallway to the elevators.
The couple of corporate monkeys who had not fled when evacuation orders came, remained closeted in their cramped offices. Not that leaving was much of an option for them. There was nowhere for them to go. Not after what city officials had touted as the city's only safe zone had been overrun by an obscene herd of undead just a few days ago.
Seeing the set expression on his face and the angry flush to his bald plate, even the head of his security team, a man known only as Hassam decided it was wiser, and much safer, to give him a wide berth.
Luthor preferred it that way. He had no desire to hear any more ridiculously made-up excuses, be given empty promises, or told another batch of outright lies by any of the buffoons currently in his employ. The Kent boy should have been delivered to him weeks ago and that was all there was to it. That the boy hadn't been brought to him vexed him.
Tremendously.
What irked him even more about the situation was that he had been in a relatively good mood up to that point. His hope for a speedy resolution to this predicament had increased when he learned Superman left Metropolis two nights before. He had assumed, and rightly so, that the caped superhero had headed to Gotham.
The men he ordered stationed throughout the various boroughs the city boasted had spotted his longtime nemesis atop the roof of what had once served as the Gotham City Police Department with the former police commissioner and the Dark Knight himself.
Such a late night meeting between the three men could only mean that Wayne was about to prevail upon Superman to either go to Georgia and personally bring Kean and her children home to Gotham or swoop over to the West Coast and ask the Flash to do it.
When he first received word of this late-night meeting between the three conspirators, he couldn't have been more pleased. He had expected this turn of things after Wayne vehemently rejected his more than gracious offer to send his own private army to escort the woman and her children here to Metropolis.
Of course ole Brucey was going to balk at his offer. His tenuous allegiance with the Justice League did not grant him access to either the boy or his mother. It was why he had extended the offer. He had suspected Wayne would send someone — and the most likely person was that obnoxious little scarlet speedster who had come on the scene a few months back — to retrieve the family from wherever the hell it was Kean had hidden them.
When the man coldly refuted his carefully worded suggestion about how Kean and her children would be safer with him in Metropolis than in Gotham, he had known a plan was already underway to bring them home.
He had sent his best men to Georgia, ordered them to search around the last known whereabouts of the woman and instructed them to watch and wait for the arrival of the caped superhero. Yes, a few days ago it had seemed like all of his plans were rolling along like good tires on a freshly paved road.
And then this gaping pothole arose to cause two of those tires to run flat.
Every ounce of his joviality fled when he discovered how not only had the Flash seemingly disappeared off the face of the planet, but that Superman himself had not gone to Georgia either. Flash had not been seen anywhere on the East or West coasts at any time in the last few weeks.
Where the little speed freak had raced off too was being treated as a closely guarded secret by the active members of the Justice League. Why he wasn't told about where the scarlet speedster was or what it was that he was doing, irritated him almost as much as finding out that Superman had returned to Metropolis about an hour after sunrise. Every one of his plans was slowly unraveling and he didn't like it.
He didn't like it one bit.
Added to his already mountainous pile of frustrations was the fact that one of the morons he had sent to Georgia before this walker virus went global suddenly showed up in his office, alone, and with a note from the Kean woman that threatened bloody warfare if he didn't call his goons off.
Luthor's fingers had trembled with the urge to wrap around the man's throat and squeeze until the man choked on his final breath. More, he found himself wanting to travel to Georgia and find the woman quickly becoming the bane of his existence.
It was long past time Dr. Kean learn her proper place.
Luthor rode the elevator from the top floor down to the manufacturing and administrative floor and stalked through the maze of dimly lit corridors, past dozens of now vacant offices, eerily silent assembly bays, and the ghost town that once had been his bustling shipping and receiving.
He had not spoken a word since learning of there being a double-agent behind the failure of the first group he sent to retrieve the Kent boy, and the three men who trailed him from a safe distance invited none. As far as he was concerned, the men were merely one of the dozens of shadows trailing along in his wake.
He absolutely detested those who did not respect his privacy or his boundaries. The only people he abhorred more virulently than those who lacked the ability to respect his personal space were those who failed or betrayed him. Or who let in people that I did not expressly give permission to allow in the building.
Luthor's jaw clenched, hard enough his teeth ground against each other. There was going to be an extensive shakeup in his security department for them allowing this breach. He would have Hassam investigate the matter personally. And, he thought as he stalked down another dark hallway, he would take whatever necessary actions against any of those who were found to not be who, or what they claimed to be.
Any action, so long as it was one that he could have cleaned up later, was one he deemed as crucial to maintaining his position as the head of this organization.
He despised mistakes of any kind.
Almost as much as he loathed the ones who made them.
"Has Aslakov made contact?" he questioned Hassam as he headed through a set of double-doors into a private section of the facility that the public had no knowledge about. Here housed the offices and private laboratories of his top researchers and developers. Here was where many of his most top secret plans came to life. "Do we know where he and his men are as of this moment?"
"Yes, Mr. Luthor," Hassam replied in his deep baritone. "He and his team made contact just this morning to say they were passing through Virginia and would be in Georgia by the day after tomorrow."
"And do we have any idea about where Dr. Kean has been hiding herself and her children?"
"Amir's last message was that they had tracked the Kean woman to a small farmhouse outside of Atlanta."
Outside of Atlanta. There were any number of small towns and open country in which a crafty woman like Doctor Kean could hide. The woman was fast becoming more trouble than she was worth. Still…
"Make sure that Aslakov understands that I want Kean, her daughter and the boy all brought to me." He paused to send a look over his shoulder that had made many a man and woman cower in fear. Hassam, though, merely met his gaze with dark, impassive eyes. Luthor hummed his approval before saying, "And make sure he understands that I want them brought to me unharmed. Or else there will be severe consequences."
It wasn't like he needed to explain what those severe consequences if his orders were ignored would be. Hassam glanced at the man on his left, nodding his dark head once in an indication that he was to carry out what Luthor had ordered. Instantly, the smaller man turned and headed down a long corridor to where their telecommunications hub had been set up.
The rest of the world may have lost all communications when the world fell. He wasn't just any ordinary man, however. He, much like Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen, and Ray Palmer had made sure to implement procedures to ensure they still had some form of communication available.
"At least someone in my employ is doing their job correctly," Luthor grunted as he resumed heading down the hall. "I was beginning to suspect I had a bunch of incompetent simpletons working for me."
Hassam did not offer a reply. Not that Luthor expected one. He finally arrived at the closed doors of a large office at the end of another long hallway. A straight-backed guard stood to the left of the door, his eyes empty black pools inside his swarthy, pockmarked face.
"Why was I called down here?" Luthor simpered as he stopped in front of the man. "What is it that Jenkins wants that he would request me to come down here to his office?"
"Harley Quinn broke in and demanded to see you," the man replied in a voice devoid of any emotion.
"Did she now?" Now that had Luthor's attention. "How interesting."
"Dr. Jenkins thought you would want to interview her yourself."
"And where exactly is Dr. Jenkins?"
"Securing the boy."
One of Luthor's brows lifted. "The boy?" A kernel of hope blossomed inside him. "What boy?"
"Quinn brought Robin with her."
Now that was unexpected. And quite interesting, as well. Luthor felt a smile curving his lips for the first time in days. When he spoke, his tone was one that the men who were with him recognized as his most lethal.
"Did she now?"
He flung open the office door. Harley Quinn sat in an overstuffed armchair, looking surprisingly stylish and sophisticated in a well-tailored pantsuit. Her face was free of the garish clown makeup she habitually wore, making her appear somehow younger and more innocent than he knew the woman to be. She had poured herself a cup of coffee as she waited and held it between hands that did not betray her nervous state.
Her eyes, blue as the paint on the walls, sparked with intelligence from behind the lenses of the glasses she wore. Luthor took a moment to let his rage over the ineptness of those in his employ to die down before he spoke to the woman. He had to appear in control at all times.
It would not do for any of those who worked for him to see him in any other state. Once he had himself under control he closed the door and slowly crossed towards the huge desk situated in front of the windows that looked out into a huge laboratory.
"Miss Quinn," he said cordially. "I am rather surprised to see you here. When last we spoke you did not seem interested in the generous offer I made you."
"I've had a change of heart." Quinn's voice sounded as if it belonged more to a little girl than it did to a woman fully grown. "Youse said youse would help me ta start over somewhere new if'n I'd help youse make contact with the Doc and her son?"
"No," Luthor corrected in a low, velvety purr. "I said that I would help you to start over somewhere new if you helped me find Christopher Kent and his mother."
"I already told youse that I dunno where exactly Doc Kean is." Harley gave a delicate sniff as she sat back in her seat. "She moved ta Georgia years ago. That's all I know."
"I am already aware that Doctor Kean moved to Georgia. What I don't know is what path she might take to get home."
"If'n the Doc is as smart a woman as I'ma thinkin' she is," Harley said airily. "Then she will stay wherever she is. That way them undead thingies don't get her and them kids."
"That," Luthor's tone said he was nearing the end of what patience he had. "Is why I have sent my own personal men to Georgia. I want to make sure that the…" His lips curled. "Undead thingies do not get her and her children. I want to keep them safe."
"Thinkin' they gonna be plenty safe now that the Red Birdie has left Gotham."
"Red Robin has left Gotham?" Why hadn't he known about this? "When?" he demanded.
"A coupla days ago."
It really shouldn't have been a surprise. It was well known that the Kean woman was closely tied to the Red Wonder. Even that demented freak, the Joker, knew that the woman's one weakness, besides her own two children, was... Robin.
A light flipped on as realization dawned. A slow smile curved his lips as he figured out why Quinn had brought the boy to him.
Clever woman, he mused. Bringing me the one thing that might convince Doctor Kean to not only bring her son to me but to place him in my care, as well.
"So," he purred as he took a seat behind the desk. "You have successfully managed to pique my interest, Miss Quinn." He steepled his fingers in front of him. "That is not an easy feat to accomplish."
A small smile graced Harley's pale pink lips. "Youse ready ta finally talk business, Mr. L?"
"Mr. L?"
"What?" Harley flipped the end of her ponytail over her shoulder. "Don't youse like it?"
He ignored the challenge in her tone. He could handle whatever the little nitwit wanted to call him so long as it would finally deliver Christopher Kent to him.
"What is it that you want, Miss Quinn?"
…
Virginia (Early Afternoon)
Rains swept in late that morning, pounded the ground, the top of trees, then swept out again so that the heat still clinging to the air became choking. A land cruiser sped down a long stretch of interstate, past mile upon mile of abandoned or burned out vehicles, past cities and towns that once teemed with life, past hurriedly put together sanctuaries that wouldn't keep out a flea, much less one of the voracious monsters roaming the globe.
A massive pile-up forced the cruiser off the highway a short time later. Suddenly, the SUV found itself driving across a barren countryside where scraggly patches of scrub and greenery dotted the side of the road. The only positive that could be said about this trek was that the cruiser had the road all to itself. It raced at breakneck speed towards its scheduled rendezvous in some podunk town on the outskirts of Atlanta without worry or concern about being pulled over.
It bounced over the road beneath a sky almost as black as the paint job on the cruiser. Definitely a bad omen, Nico Aslakov thought as he stared out the passenger side window at the nothingness flying by. The middle-aged man sat tensely in his seat. He was flanked by six other similarly grim-faced men in black suits and matching ties. Each of them carried enough weapons in which to stop a small army.
Or a woman personally trained by Batman and Wonder Woman...
More weapons, of a higher caliber and grade were stored in the silver cases stacked neatly in the back of the cruiser. Even still, Aslakov shifted in his seat, fighting off his increasing feeling that he should have told Luthor to take this particular job and shove it. Hunting a wild lion would be a whole lot easier than tracking down Fenix and taking her son from her.
Boss is outta his damn mind if he thinks this job is gonna be simple. Not that Lex Luthor really gave a shit about how difficult this job was. No, the way a man like Luthor viewed it, the world was his to command and control and they were the goons who helped him to do it.
"Are we sure Batman hasn't sent any of his other birds to protect the bitch?" One of the men, a new recruit named Dolonov broke the silence to ask. "Nobody has caught a glimpse of Robin, Red Robin or Nightwing in weeks."
"Or the Red Hood," another new recruit chimed in. "Of the four, he's the most unpredictable."
And the most dangerous of all of Batman's little birds.
"Red Hood was in Blüdhaven," Dolonov told the man who had spoken. "There's no way he could have gotten out of there without Luthor knowing about it."
"Luthor said that none of Batman's protégés have been sent to Atlanta to retrieve Kean and her brats," Askalov assured them. "He believes she is still safely hidden in Atlanta and waiting for Superman or that scarlet speedster to come and get her."
"Fenix has broken my nose thirteen times." The speaker, a swarthy-faced man named Timo, shifted to look at Askalov. In the confines of the cruisers interior, his eyes glowed with malice and malcontent. "She will not do so again."
Askalov made a low, speculative sound deep in his throat.
"Luthor wants the woman brought to him unharmed."
Timo's lips curled into a sneer. "Accidents," he rumbled. "Happen."
Askalov silently considered what the man said. Eliminating the Fenix would make bringing the boy to Luthor all the easier. However, they ran the risk of failure if they did not carefully consider all the angles or make sure to plan for any move a woman as well trained as Fenix might make.
"If an opportunity presents itself," he finally told him. "Eliminate her. If one doesn't? We take her to Luthor. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
They continued the drive in silence. They passed through what looked to have been a small town about ten minutes later. The streets were devoid of any walks of life. If they had not encountered dozens of ghost towns since leaving Metropolis, it would have been a huge red herring about how far the pandemic had spread.
Still, Askalov felt it was wise to err on the side of caution.
"Keep an eye out," he ordered. "Don't need to be surprised by a bunch of these undead things running around."
"Yes, sir."
They drove on, seeing nothing until they reached a crossroad about a mile outside of town. The way left, right and forward was blocked by a dozen armed men standing beside some dirty pick-up trucks.
At least a dozen more men watched from a handful of motorbikes stationed in a V-shape behind the vehicles.
"What the...?" Dolonov grunted. "Who are these assholes?"
"Don't know," the driver of the cruiser replied as he slowly brought the vehicle to a stop. "But those guns a few of them are carrying are military-grade."
"I say drive through 'em," a man in the backseat by the name of Holt grumbled. "Nothing they got is gonna damage the cruiser."
"No," Askalov said as a man with slicked back hair the same color as his leather jacket emerged from a white van. "Let's hear what they have to say first."
The man swaggered towards the cruiser, a slippery smirk twisting his lips and a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire held casually over one shoulder.
"So," the man said in lieu of a greeting. "You fuckity fucks thought you were going to simply drive through my town without paying a toll? Not cool, man." He shook his head. "Not cool at all."
Timo went to reach for his gun, but Askalov stopped him by holding up a hand.
"How much is your toll?" he asked the man in a clear, calm voice. "And who exactly are we paying it, too?"
"Well, excuse the fuck outta me for forgetting my manners." The man swept his arms wide. "Name's Negan. And half of whatever you dick fucking muther fuckers have in this cruiser is now mine."
Askalov regarded the man silently for a moment. His boorish and crude mannerisms disgusted him. However, there was something about the man that told him he ruled his ragtag bunch of men with the same cool efficiency that Luthor ran his corporation. Utilizing him and his men could well aid them in preventing the Kean woman from slipping by them.
"Well, Mr. Negan," he began as he flicked away an imaginary speck of dirt from the lapel of his jacket. "I am agreeable to your demand. However..." He let the word dangle for a second. "I am willing to supply you with even more weapons than we have with us here in return for your help in finding a woman and her two children."
"Why the fuck you shitheads looking for this woman?" A shadow passed over the man's face and warned Askalov to tread lightly. "What the fuck do you want with her?"
"I can assure you we mean the woman and her children no harm," he told the lie smoothly and without any regret. "We have been hired to find them and bring them to our bosses compound for their safety and protection."
"Yeah?" Negan opened the door of the cruiser and indicated for Askalov to get out. "Why don't you step into my office so we can negotiate terms and conditions."
"Of course." Askalov signaled for his men to stand down as he stepped from the cruiser. "After you."
A/N: Hello, all! Hope the week has been good to you!
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