The Powers that Be

Disclaimer: I do not own the Justice League or any of the DC Characters. No profit is gained by this fiction.

AN: I have to admit, I don't have all the details of all the characters committed to memory, but I DO have a beta now! Thanks KN – You're AWESOME! However, If something is wrong, I take FULL responsibility and I ask that you forgive me. It's all AU…

Chapter 21: Hollow Victories

Outside of Metropolis, in an unknown location, the old man cursed and fumed as he struggled to command his computer to find satisfactory means of monitoring the situation. His fingers, stiff and crooked from arthritis, resisted his will to type fast enough. Eventually, he had to resort to, of all things, a video feed from a news crew at ground level.

"Uneducated buffoon!" he muttered as he impatiently muted the news anchor commentary and squinted to see the images clearly.

Ultra witnessed Superman emerging from the S.W.A.T. communications van and, within a few moments, J'onn J'onnz and Hawkgirl teleported onto the screen. The news camera zoomed in to observe the situation as the three conversed with the S.W.A.T. Lieutenant. He wasn't taken completely by surprise that J'onn and Superman would be in the same place at the same time, but he was certain that they would have to stage some sort of ruse to cover up for Superman's powerless state. His interest in their cleverness built considerably.

Ultra watched with a smug smile contorting his gray face, trying to anticipate what 'trick' they would use and he prepared himself for omniscient superiority when he'd be able to find the flaws in their attempts. Instead, his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw the Man of Steel fly up and smash through the windows on the 18th floor of 1 LuthorCorp Plaza.

After that, from the obscure angle of the news camera, all that was evident was that there was gunfire. Superman was only visible from the waist up, but the peripheral debris made it clear that bullets were simply bouncing off him as they had done countless times before. The cameraman was also able to capture the bright red glow of energy flashing within the lab. A few moments later, the news crew captured Superman stepping out of view followed shortly by evidence of a torrent of wind blowing within the building.

The withered hands shakily typed again, switching to the video feed from the devices that his hired mercenaries had planted on the security cameras within the LuthorCorp labs. His monitor split into four grainy, black and white scenes, showing different angles of the same room.

From the relatively poor quality images, he didn't see much else that let him relax. It was quite clear that bullets were not hurting the hero, despite the point-blank range from which they were fired. It was obvious that twin beams of energy seemed to shoot out of Superman's eyes to disarm two henchmen. Ultra even saw his adversary's body flinch just before the camera angles were twisted unproductively away from the center of the lab by a whirlwind of activity. It had been unclear what had happened, but when the images finally settled, three screens were useless and from the fourth he could only see the tops of two of his hired thugs' heads.

He replayed the images again and again, trying to find some evidence that it was all a hoax, but he simply could not. All in all, from every bit of evidence he had, it looked like a typical "Superman Saves the Day" kind of situation.

Ultra slumped back in his wheelchair. His mouth hung open and his mind reeled in confusion.

'How could they have staged that? The Martian was on the ground… there was no time for anybody else to get into the room… there was nobody else in the room… he deflected bullets… the heat vision - nobody else has that power…'

The tired old man felt the black pit of anger sinking inside him as he considered that he might have been wrong. And he hated being wrong, absolutely hated it. It was a sign of weakness. His breathing slid into wheezing, then his wheezing melted into coughing and hacking. He convulsed and struggled to will his body to comply to his commands while he summed up the situation. He eventually calmed himself to the point where he could regain his concentration.

For as much as he felt that being wrong was a sin, not planning for all possibilities was more so. And he reminded himself that he could take solace in knowing that he had planned for even this possibility. After that, he was able to regain his composure and even his arrogance. His face grew cocky as he glanced at the machines at the far end of his lab.

'Merely, an inconvenience…' he allowed.

As that thought crossed his mind, the security feed on his monitors caught a tremendous flash from within the lab, then showed nothing but static.

He was able to switch back to the news feed in time to catch the news cameras on the streets shooting up to the 18th floor of the LuthorCorp building. Rubble and dust blasted out the remaining windows. Within a few confusing seconds, the cameraman had panned down to street level and focused in on some of the raining debris, including a few tiny, bright green pebbles.

Ultra smiled. Then he looked at his clock… 4:28pm.

"Excellent."

The bullets bounced off his chest like so many toys thrown by a child. He half smiled to himself, marveling at the absurdity of it all – an invisible man tricking humans into believing that an alien was invulnerable. If it weren't actually happening to him, he would have thought it ridiculous.

But it was happening. Every bit of it. He flexed his chest with a deep breath, watching each and every bullet sprayed in his direction. They might as well have been balloons on the wind, as slow and ineffective as they were in his eyes. If one wasn't going to hit him directly, he swatted it out of the way like a gnat. The taller man behind him had absolutely nothing to fear, and he felt the warm rush of accomplishment knowing that all was going according to plan.

Calmly, like he was retrieving a pen to sign an autograph, he pulled a small device out of his utility belt. It was a laser torch that he normally used to cut chain or other such metal devices. He had modified it this morning to direct the beams on parallel paths rather than focused on a point. Keeping the device invisible in the clutches of his gloved hand, he looked over his shoulder, checked the position of his friend's eyes, and hearing the signal, blasted the right bicep of the appropriate gunman. It was a quick flash. Maybe it singed the skin a little, but nothing major. Just enough to stun him… make him drop his gun.

The other gunman was closer to the hostages. Batman thought it would be better to disable the weapon altogether. So, upon hearing the second signal from his more visible partner, he took aim at the barrel and fired for a second longer. The end of the gun's barrel heated up very next bullet sprayed out like aerosol. The suspect immediately released the trigger and dropped the weapon.

That's when the showdown started. A hostage was used as a human shield and the ante was upped by one set of chlorine tanks.

'They never learn.'

He took the time to sigh before projecting his plans to J'onn, who, in turn, informed Superman of what to do next. After that, he just had to wait for the cue…

Moving at near mach speed while maintaining his invisibility was getting to be so natural now that he had been living a good portion of his days that way. Effectively, he had turned a 24-hour day into virtually a week. His strength had been more than equal to almost any task. His stamina waned after prolonged use, but recovered in mere seconds. In fact, he often found it difficult to slow down once he was motivated. There were so many things to do.

He blazed through the lab, securing the area, protecting the innocent, dissecting the guns… he even placed the disassembled components neatly on an examining table in the standard layout taught to privates in boot camp.

When the LuthorCorp guards filed in and started taking the suspects into custody, it was clear that the danger had passed. According to the plans, Clayface and Superman should have a couple of minutes away from prying eyes and they can trade places. It looked like everything was coming together.

The Dark Knight took a moment to stealthily scope the lab and even parts of the rest of the 18th floor of the LuthorCorp building. He didn't find anything out of the ordinary for the situation; a few black duffel bags, some dropped automatic weapon clips, spent casings all over the floor… without disturbing the lay of the area, and thus giving away his presence, it was difficult to spot any more danger.

'Outside…'

There were news crews and spectators on the roofs and in the windows of all the buildings within view. Countless people were peering out between blinds, from behind curtains, from dark rooms and well-lit rooms. Many had cameras or cell phones. Many had binoculars. For the most part, the people were giving in to the kind of morbid curiosity one would expect associated with such a spectacle. And these were just the average citizens of Metropolis watching their favorite son in action.

Or were they?

His keen eyes darted across the scenery. Like finding letters in a word search, he scanned each window, each face, each pair of eyes that he could find. He looked for that one person – the one that didn't belong. The one that years of experience would tell him to watch out for.

The one in the southwest corner apartment on the twentieth floor of the building two streets down.

He leapt out the window landing on the roof across the way, then vaulted himself to the roof of the suspect's building. He blasted through the stairwell door and tore down the stairs. Slicing down the hallway, missing a teenage boy and his dog, he burst into the apartment and found the tall man standing alone in the dark wearing a black trench coat. He was maneuvering large device on a tripod by the window.

The man didn't even have time to turn and see what it was that demolished his front door. He had been grappled by the collar and flung to the floor face down. He hadn't had a chance to take a breath before a knee dropped onto his spine, his hair caught in the Dark Knight's grasp, driving his face into the stale carpet.

Batman reached for a restraint from his utility belt when he saw the true look of terror on the man's face. For a moment, it seemed like the kind of expression anybody would wear if they'd been wrestled to the ground by an invisible assailant, but there was something else.

The man's horror was real. He was petrified and grew more so with each passing second. This man wasn't a cool-minded professional, no. This man was weak, both physically and mentally. And he was afraid of most things in life.

Batman took stock of the darkened apartment around him. The furniture was old and worn-down, second if not third-hand. There were empty bags of chips and other snacks littered on the floor and tables. An open pizza box had cold pizza from some dinner days ago. The place reeked of poor hygiene and odd latex items.

There was an impressive computer system in the corner. It was clearly the most expensive item in the room. It had a large flat-screen monitor that was fading through various pictures of naked women in obscure positions. Then there were all the odd toys.

The huge object on the tripod was merely an outdated VHS video camera. The long, black tube-like device… the thing that had looked like the barrel of a sniper's riffle from across the street… was nothing more than a telescopic microphone.

'This guy's not a hit man… he's a pervert… a creep!'

Maintaining himself concealed, Batman raised up off the pathetic creature, though he never dropped his look of disgust. Clearly this wimp wasn't a threat to Superman, but he was a threat to his neighbors – and the kind of person that Batman could save with just a tone of voice.

"Stop shaming yourself and live a life worth living,"

Not moving from his place on the floor, the man nodded his head frantically, confessing repeatedly that he would change.

Before leaving the putrid apartment, Batman stole a glance out the window. He turned just in time to see an explosion blast through the LuthorCorp Labs.

'Clark!'

Circling high out of sight around the outskirts of Metropolis, Green Lantern and Wonder Woman were in the Javelin, monitoring the activities of the LuthorCorp building via the link that Flash had established with them from the Watchtower. They had all the visual and audio feeds available and were following the goings on step by step.

The break-in and resulting alarm had happened exactly as Luthor had told them it would the night before. The sketchy details he provided had been more or less correct in that there were four culprits, possible hostages and a threat of chlorine gas making superhero intervention a necessity. They also knew that there would be a time when Clayface and Superman should be able to swap places undetected – but nobody was able to say precisely when or where. Nor was it clear exactly how or when Ultra would try to capture Superman.

In that, the League was on it's own.

For several hours that morning, Bruce and Clark had been working together in the training arena. They had effectively perfected their routines, making it look like Superman could do almost all those things he normally could. They had discussed the signals, both verbal and nonverbal for different plans of action. The others had observed and offered their two-cents' worth and by noon they were confident that they could pull it off… provided that everything Lex told them was correct.

And that had been the hardest thing for them all to swallow – believing Lex Luthor.

If Lex had been doubting Superman's condition, they all felt confident that he would at least be second guessing it after last night. Batman was able to testify that Clark's performance was damn near flawless. When they discussed different ways to deal with the hostage situation, Superman made sure to mention some of his more notable abilities – one's that J'onn wouldn't be able to replicate. By simply offering them as possible options, it showed that he was at full power, thus keeping Lex… and Ultra uncertain.

With the game afoot, things were going as discussed. J'onn had made an appearance and was on-sight outside the building. Superman was in the thick of the action, using his trademark abilities. The others were standing by in support roles to make it look like a typical Justice League operation… and just in case.

As the craft cruised lazily above the clouds, both occupants were waiting for each bit of information from the city. Even though nothing today had given them reason to doubt Lex's intentions, their history with him was never far from the backs of their minds. It wracked their patience as they waited to hear that their colleagues hadn't met with grim circumstances simply because they actually allowed a taste of trust for their bald nemesis.

"I can't stand this," Diana confessed, flipping a hand towards the monitors before them. "Just… waiting. If anything happens to Clark…"

"I know," GL cut her off. He was sick and tired of all his colleagues' talk about the 'what if' contingency. He had grown exasperated about all the vows people had voiced about what they'd do to Luthor if they found out he was lying. He had even snapped at Shayera before taking off from the Watchtower because she started expressing second thoughts about the whole situation. Despite all this, his voice towards Diana was still one of empathy rather than frustration.

"But everything's going according to plan at this point," he continued, remembering to keep his voice even and polite… after all, he was talking to a pent-up Amazon. "It's hard not to worry, but worrying won't make things go any better. It can however, take our mind off our mission and that can make things go worse. So, let's just keep ourselves focused…"

Diana didn't hear the rest. She knew he was right. He was a trained warrior just as she was. And he was stating the exact same thing that she had learned about battle plans eons before he was born. They had a job to do; stand by until Dick and Barbara completed their tests, observe the situation in Metropolis and wait. Adding stress didn't help the matter at all. She knew that as well as John.

But with all that had been going on, she found that activity was truly the only way for her to not dwell on her life and the situation that she had found herself in. She also, painfully, found herself questioning her own faith in Batman and his intentions. It was so natural to trust him with Clark's life, but then again, that kind of trust in his actions had been tested lately. Waiting in the cockpit for the past few hours had thrust a disturbing amount of inaction into play and she couldn't help but quietly dwell.

Lantern wasn't much help either. While on a mission, he wasn't much of a conversationalist. All serious, all business and by the book… One of the only welcome interruptions to the boredom had been news from Oracle and Nightwing about an hour ago about some confirmed findings. Another had been, ironically, the alarm at LuthorCorp. With the 4:30 mark only a few short minutes away, Diana's nerves were growing unacceptably thin.

The communications light flashed and she practically lunged for the activate button.

"Hey guys," Flash's sullen voice sounded over the speaker, "it's gettin' to be that time… catching anything odd from your end?"

"Negative," Lantern reported mechanically. "Has Nightwing contacted you with anything new?"

"No, not ye- wait… speak of the dickens! I'll put him through… Go ahead, buddy, we've got GL and the Princess on line with us."

"OK, we've found some stuff. First, the virus would have seized up the entire Watchtower. The Teleporter System would have been activated and powered up. A couple minutes after that, the system would have listened for a specific transmission – we're still working on the details of that. But either way, the teleporter would have locked on to the location of the source of the transmission and made two transfers."

'Two?'' John silently mouthed at Diana.

"… The first action would beam up the person carrying the transmission source – the target. It would then teleport anybody that was within a 10-meter radius of the target to a set of specific coordinates."

"Do you have those coordinates pinpointed yet?" John demanded.

"Yes… we're transmitting them up to the Watchtower…"

"Yeah, I got 'em," Flash announced. "Sendin' 'em to you now, John."

"The timing of the other systems failing on the Watchtower cascades after that… once the target is on board, internal sensors and lockdown protocols would become disrupted…"

"…making us blind to whatever the target was doing…" Diana observed.

"Exactly," Dick agreed. "Then, when the target switched the transmitter off, he would be sent automatically to roughly those same coordinates."

"That's how Clayface would get back," John acknowledged.

"Actually… he, or they," Oracle added. "It looks like the teleport routine would expect one or two people to be sent down on that second transfer…"

"Now it makes sense!" Lantern declared. "This virus would have covered two possibilities; One, if Superman was near the target at 4:30, then he'd be transferred to these coordinates, and Two, if he was aboard the Watchtower, then Mr. Target would be brought aboard to find him and they would both get beamed down… again, to the same place!"

"The target could possibly have Superman with him," Diana continued, following his logic.

"OK, can we stop saying 'target' now?" Flash begged. "We all know that it's s'posed to be Clayface doing all the dirty work…"

"So, now we know how Ultra was supposed to get Superman," Dick summed up. "But because we've intercepted the virus, it's not going to happen that way. We also know that some time soon, Clayface and Superman are supposed to change places or something like that."

"What time is it?" Diana asked.

"4:28" Barbara answered. "We've got a few minutes. If nothing's going to happen because we caught the virus, then we have to come up with something…"

That's when all five of them caught the violent explosion on the 18th floor of the LuthorCorp building on their respective monitors.

"OH SHIT!" Flash cried out over the coms. "What the… that was NOT supposed to happen! Was it?"

"No! Hold on!" John ordered to Diana as he banked the Javelin towards the heart of the city.

"Stand back! Both of you!"

Mercy and her security captain were standing over the motionless bodies of Superman and a LuthorCorp security guard. They turned to look out the shattered windows and saw the floating forms of The Martian Manhunter and Hawkgirl. The two heroes flew into the room quickly, J'onn checking on the guard, Shayera tending to Superman.

"It looks like Kryptonite, J'onn," Hawkgirl announced. "There's too much of it to clean up – we gotta clear the area. Get everybody out of here!"

"You heard her," Mercy snapped at her captain. "Move! Get the prisoners down to the holding cells!"

The senior man acknowledged her order and with a parting look at his fallen rookie, ran out into the hall and started barking orders.

Mercy turned back towards the injured guard and crouched down, reassessing his condition.

"Do you have medical training?" Mercy demanded of the Martian as he positioned himself near her injured man.

"Yes."

J'onn's eyes glowed fiercely orange as he tried to contact the victim psychically. He phased his hand through the guard's jacket and took note of the unusual angle of his torso. The Kevlar vest, helmet and dark safety glasses had blocked the shrapnel effectively, but his limbs, neck and his square jaw were bloody. J'onn agreed with Mercy's suspicion of possible spinal injury and also noted that the guard wasn't moving his extremities. He requested she call for the paramedics.

Mercy nodded in understanding and begrudging acceptance… The Marian Manhunter may just be the better person to handle such a medical situation.

"What about him?" she asked nodding to Superman.

"I'll get him to safety," Hawkgirl quickly answered, already down on one knee next to her teammate.

Mercy took a deep breath and forced herself to not lose her cool. Despite any run-ins that these so-called heroes may have had with her employer, they seemed to be genuine – at least today. Along with that, there seemed to be no hostility of any mention at the meeting last night… maybe she could trust them after all.

"His name is Bill," she told Manhunter, hoping that the Martian may have a better chance of communicating with her man if he knew something personal about him. Trying to reestablish her authority on the premises, she 'ordered' the two Leaguers to watch her guard as she stepped back a pace or two before turning to race out of the room. She was on her way to the elevators while she demanded an update on the whereabouts of the paramedics with her radio.

She was barking commands into the microphone as she waited impatiently for the sliding doors to open. When they finally did, she stopped in her tracks, not expecting the person that stepped out.

"Mr. Luthor!" she exclaimed and snapped straight up in surprise.

"What the hell happened?" Lex demanded stepping out and heading down the hall. Clearly he had been shaken up in the elevator when the explosion happened.

"Booby trap, sir."

Lex had stopped abruptly. He turned his head but didn't look at the young lady.

"What's the status?" he said in an all-business tone.

"One of my men is down and so is Superman. The primary crisis has been averted, but there's Kryptonite all over the lab…"

"Kryptonite?" he turned and sharply eyed his assistant.

"Yes, sir."

For a disturbing moment, Lex looked worried, if not confused. His eyes darted around as his mind raced. Finally, his face grew stern once again and he ordered the young woman to expedite the paramedics and then he turned to march down the hall.

"I swear… I didn't know about any of this!" Lex admitted waving towards all the debris and Kryptonite strewn throughout the lab.

Shayera didn't even bother to voice her disbelief; she simply grabbed her mace off her hip and made a lunge at the bald man in the expensive suit. Her huge green colleague caught her wrist mid-swing and held it firm.

"Don't!" J'onn ordered. "He wouldn't be here if he had known about the trap… he could have been caught in it too. We have to get Superman out of here and make sure…"

Before he could finish, a rolling blue flash disintegrated everyone in the room. Within a second, Superman, J'onn, Shayera and Lex had all reappeared inside an oblong windowless white compartment no larger than a semi trailer. The injured guard was nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell is going on, here?!" Luthor demanded as he marched towards the nearest wall.

He balled his fist and raised it over his head like a club and slammed it against the cold, white surface. He was rewarded with a paralyzing shock that sent him flying off his feet.

"You shouldn't have double-crossed me, Lex," a haunting voice boomed throughout the room.

Shaking his groggy head, Lex propped himself up on one elbow and willed himself into clarity. It was evident by the coldness of his scowl how furious he was, yet his slow movements also showed how restrained he was forcing himself to be. He knew that he couldn't do anything at this point but bide his time... and plan.

"We are trapped within a neutral point energy field," J'onn explained, his eyes glowing brightly. He tried to help Lex to his feet, although his offer was not accepted. "As long as the field is energized, it will not allow any form of penetration from within. I am not able to phase through it… I doubt even Superman could break us free."

Lex missed Hawkgirl's guilty look at the mention of Superman and his abilities. Instead, she looked on the floor to find the Kryptonian coming to. Again, she knelt by his side and helped him sit up. Once he showed signs of lucidity, she returned her focus to destruction.

"Brute force might not be able to break us out, but what about…?" Shayera asked, holding up her mace, buzzing with power.

"Your mace may have a chance…"

That was all she needed to hear. As J'onn continued to say "… but it could be dangerous." she doubled her fists on her weapon's handle and swung with all her might, screaming out in her rage.

Lex covered his ears from the deafening impact as the mace slamming into the metal wall echoed and shook the whole room, forcing small dents where it struck. The strange material of her weapon absorbed much of the destructive forces that had knocked Lex on his ass, but enough still traveled up the handle into her arm. Despite her obvious pain, Hawkgirl swung again, and again, until…

"You must think me a fool if you believed I wouldn't have predicted that, Hawkgirl," the voice boomed.

The boasting didn't waver the heroine's determination to blast her way out of their prison, and she swung again.

"It's time for you to settle down, little birdie…"

The floor panel energized directly under Shayera's feet. The white and silver sparks and bolts of electricity raced around and through her body, causing her to convulse and cry out in agony. After what seemed an eternity, the crackling and shrieking stopped. Her mace fell from her hand, followed shortly by her limp body collapsing into a steaming heap on the floor. J'onn rushed to her side, trying to comfort her.

"That must have been unpleasant," the voice teased, "and completely unnecessary. I assure you; the same pain awaits you all if any one of you is foolish enough to try that again!"

"What do you want?!" Superman managed to call out weakly.

"Don't patronize me. I know very well how much Lex told you all last night at your little meeting. If you didn't remember me from our previous encounter, Superman, then perhaps you can recall how I…"

"I know who you are!" Superman growled, finally managing to stand. "And I know what you want. You're not going to get it!"

The four prisoners heard the hoarse strains of laughter fading into a fit of coughing. The sound stopped abruptly, the audio feed obviously being cut in their captor's moment of weakness. A few short seconds later, the voice came back.

"Perhaps you are relying on you friends to come and save you… Do you really think that I wouldn't have predicted that as well? In a few short moments, the entire Justice League will be my guests. I will have what I need, then I will decide how quickly and painfully the rest of you die."

Before anybody could react, a blinding flash of energy split down the middle of the room, forming an impenetrable wall, separating Superman from the other three.

"Superman!" Sheyara called as she lunged towards the new wall.

"Don't!" J'onn warned yet again. This time, she listened and stopped her swing before it began.

The cell took on an eerie green glow on Superman's half. The other three captives watched helplessly as the huge man in blue sank to his knees, shouting, his face contorting with the torture.

"No!" Shayera gritted out through her clenched teeth.

Along the ceiling above the energy barrier, a small split formed, followed immediately by a solid white wall of metal slamming down – severing the prison in two. There was a low rumble and scrapping sound from outside the room for a few seconds, giving a sign that Superman's half was being moved away. After a few uncertain moments, the hissing and sizzling of energy stopped.

The silence was somehow more disturbing.

"J'onn…" Shayera turned to her teammate, deep worry set in her pretty face.

"I know…"

Author's Notes Section

Hello everybody. After such a long gap between chapters 19 & 20, I've made a big effort to get the next several chapters more timely. I'm sure this has become a big pain in the neck for my beta - Kipling Nori. Not only does she help me clean up my messes, but she's also a darn good author. I would recommend any of her works if you enjoy Justice League stories.

Here is the part where I drop all kinds of 'Thank You' notes on all you readers and the extra special thanks to those that post reviews.

To BKK:
You're absolutely right in that Batman's extra activities cannot be easily forgotten - but this Ultra/Lex thing is a bigger fish to fry right now!

To Rangerfan58:
Does Clark have his powers back? Batman had to do all the work for him! They're still putting up the act until they figure out what's going on with all this Ultra Humanite/Lex Luthor/Clayface stuff.

One last note: I got a personal message from a reader that was curious on my take on the Ultra Humanite. I thought I'd share this with the rest of you. See, we all know that he's an albino gorilla in the cartoons. However, when I looked him up at different web pages, I found out that he was an old, bald evil scientist in a wheel chair. When I imagine this version of him, I kinda picture a cross between two characters; Mr. Burns from "The Simpsons", and that old, rich, excentric dude from "Contact".